Superman: Dawnbreaker (DC Icons #4)(14)
“Listen, after we get a little work done, I’m going to teach you everything I know about the art of the interview. By the end of dinner, we’ll know all about this kid and his mysterious family. Once you report back to me, that is.” Lana rearranged the textbooks on the table in front of her so that her math book was closest. She looked up at Clark. “You know, for a tiny little town, we sure do have a lot of strangers hanging around lately. This Lex guy with the sports car. Dr. Wesley. I even met a cute stranger at the coffee shop this morning.”
Clark was surprised to hear Lana describe someone as “cute.” Most of the time she hardly even noticed when someone was flirting with her. “So, who’s this coffee shop guy?” Clark asked.
“He was ahead of me in line, and when I got up to the counter, the barista said, ‘The customer ahead of you is covering your order as well.’ And when I turned around, he gave me this little wave and came over and told me he liked my dress.” She mimed the little wave with a smile. “We only talked for a few seconds before he got a call on his cell and said he had to go. He seemed a tad ‘business smarmy,’ but he was definitely cute.”
Clark felt oddly protective all of a sudden, and he wasn’t sure why. A part of him wanted to head straight to the coffee shop and conduct an interview of his own. He couldn’t have a smarmy guy messing with his best friend. “You didn’t even get his name? What kind of reporter—?”
“We didn’t have time to introduce ourselves,” Lana interrupted. “My point is, what’s up with all the mystery men in Smallville lately? Seems kind of odd, don’t you think?”
“Speaking of odd,” Clark said, eager to steer their conversation someplace else, “have you heard anything about people in Smallville…disappearing?”
“Disappearing?” She was back to her loud voice.
“I’ll take that as a no. Someone mentioned it to me in passing, and I thought—”
“If anyone in Smallville disappeared,” she said, hastily putting her hair in a ponytail, “I’m pretty sure I’d know about it.”
Clark gave a sarcastic nod. “Right. Kind of like you knew Bryan Mankins was the one piloting the helicopter that crash-landed on my farm.”
She shot him a playful glare. “Whatever, Clark. That’s different.” She opened her math book and began flipping through the pages. “I mean, we can definitely look into any kind of possible disappearance. I just haven’t heard anything.”
Clark grinned as he opened his math book, too. Any chance he had to give Lana a hard time, he took it. It was often the other way around.
“Interview strategies to come,” Lana said, looking up at Clark. “But first…what should we start with today? Extreme Value Theorem or Newton’s Method?”
Clark pulled a folded homework sheet from his math book and flattened it out. With everything going on in Smallville, it was a relief to be temporarily turning to math.
The All-American Diner was famous for two things: cheap, massive portions of french fries and a generous owner who never seemed to stop smiling. The owner, however, was not as all-American as the name of his restaurant might suggest. David Baez was one of Smallville’s first-ever Mexican immigrants. He’d moved to town in the 1960s, from Oaxaca, and never left. He eventually married a local woman and had a large family and became a citizen. Dave’s constant jokes, his tendency to give away free milkshakes, and the restaurant’s proximity to Smallville High School meant that the place was almost always busy. Especially after school and on weekends.
Tonight was no exception.
The first thing Clark noticed as he walked through the front door was that every single table was taken.
And then he noticed Gloria Alvarez.
She was serving a table at the far end of the loud diner, smiling brightly at a group of football players. Most of them were Clark’s former teammates, including Tommy, Paul, and Kyle. If he were still on the team, he thought, he’d be sitting right there in the middle of their booth. Joking with everyone. Talking to Gloria.
But he couldn’t play anymore, so here he was, on the outside looking in.
Like always.
Clark successfully focused his super-hearing on their conversation for a few seconds, and sure enough, they were vying for Gloria’s attention. She snapped something right back at them that made the whole table of football players burst out laughing.
He felt a tinge of jealousy watching her laugh along with his ex-teammates. But at least she seemed happy. The last time he’d seen her, she was wiping away tears.
Gloria picked up a couple of empty plates, then turned and hurried off toward the kitchen. Clark must have stared just a little too long, because now Tommy was waving him over. Clark headed to their table reluctantly.
He noticed that Paul was wearing a much lighter shoulder sling. That was a good sign. His condition was improving.
“Clark,” Tommy said, “wanna join us?”
“Or can you not even sit with us anymore?” Paul joked.
A couple of the players chuckled.
Clark smiled good-naturedly and looked around the crammed booth. Even if he’d wanted to join them, there was nowhere for him to sit. The booth was designed to hold five normal-sized humans, but it was currently stuffed with four hulking varsity offensive linemen, a fullback, a six-four quarterback, and a pit bull of a running back. They all had big pops in front of them. “I would,” Clark said, “but I’m meeting a friend.”