Claire had dressed and returned to school before anyone realized she'd left the building. Keeping her eyes carefully averted from her classmates' faces, she slipped into math class and took her seat. Determined not to act embarrassed, she forced herself through the remaining periods with grim resolve, then headed to the hall where her locker was.

Spotting Lana sitting with friends, Claire made her way over. She didn't particularly need company, but wanted feedback about whether she'd become the school's laughingstock.

"Hey, Claire," Lana said, voice subdued with sympathy. "I heard what happened. It must have been terrible."

Claire forced a smile. "I'm good, thanks."

"You must have gone home to change," Lana observed.

"I did, but I came right back." Claire kept her tone light, dismissive.
Lana nodded approvingly. "That's the spirit. Embarrassing moments are all part of high school life."

While they chatted about homework and weekend plans, Claire noticed Pete leaning against the wall near the nearest exit door. The sight of him sent a fresh wave of anger washing through her chest. Because he'd laughed at her humiliation, their friendship was over.

The seething girl didn't want to talk to him, but she wasn't such a coward that she'd run away from a confrontation either. She tried walking past him without making eye contact.

"Claire, wait up!" Pete called, fast-stepping up beside her.

Claire spun to face him, eyes flashing with ire. "What do you want, Pete?"

"What's wrong? You sound angry. I just want to talk."

"I saw you laughing at me, just like all the others," Claire accused, her voice sharp as broken glass.

"I didn't laugh at you!"

"Don't lie. I saw the smirk on your face!"

"I wasn't laughing or smirking." Pete's voice remained steady, earnest. "I smiled to encourage you, to say that I was on your side."

"Do you expect me to believe that?" Claire demanded.

Pete shook his head, frustration creeping into his expression. "You should know me better than that!" He suddenly caught himself. How much could he reveal without admitting what he suspected?

"I'm not sure I know you at all," Claire said coldly.

"Isn't it possible you misunderstood what my smile meant?"

"I don't know what to believe anymore, Pete." Claire's anger deflated slightly into weariness. "I just want to stop thinking about that stupid incident."

"You can believe this," Pete said, stepping closer. "I was your cousin's best friend, and for his sake, I want you to have a good time in Smallville. I'd like to become your friend as much as I was his."

"I've got to go shop downtown," Claire said, pulling away from the conversation.

"Can I keep you company?"

"No!" The word came out sharper than she'd intended. Without another glance, Claire turned and walked away, leaving Pete standing alone by the exit.

Less than half an hour later, Pete stood outside the Kent home, his mind racing. When Claire lost her skirt that afternoon, he'd noticed something crucial—what she was wearing underneath were red trunks that looked exactly like Super-Sister's costume in the county fair photographs.

He'd been ninety-five percent certain that Claire was Clark. Now he was more than ninety-nine percent sure she was also Super-Sister. To reach absolute certainty, he needed to talk to the Kents while Claire was still away shopping.

This had been the Kents' home since they'd sold the farm and moved into town. Jonathan had been too restless for genuine retirement and had partnered with the increasingly infirm grocer, Abe McKinny. After only a few months, McKinny's health deteriorated further, and he retired completely. Jonathan gradually bought out Abe's share and continued as sole owner. Clark had helped him on weekends and after school.

Taking a deep breath, Pete strode up the walk and knocked on the front door. Martha Kent answered, wearing a warm smile.

"Pete, what a pleasant surprise! What brings you by?"

Pete returned the smile casually. "Hi, Mrs. Kent. I was just in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by. I heard Clark will be out of town for a while. Is Mr. Kent around?"

Martha nodded. "He's out back in the garden. You're welcome to join him."
Pete walked around the house to the backyard, where he found Jonathan Kent harvesting watermelons. The melons looked heavy, so Pete offered to help load them into the wheelbarrow.

"Much obliged," Mr. Kent said, straightening with a grunt.

As they worked together, Pete gathered his thoughts. He wanted to see if Jonathan would tell him anything believable about Clark's sudden disappearance.

"Mr. Kent," Pete began carefully, "I was wondering why Clark went off so suddenly. Is he all right?"

Jonathan looked up thoughtfully. "Clark's with his uncle. Roger's not as young as he used to be, and he needs help to do home repairs before winter. In return, he sent Claire here to fill in for Clark at the store."

"Could you give me the phone number of where Clark is? I'd like to keep in touch."

"That's inconvenient," Jonathan said with a sigh. "Roger's an eccentric guy. He got so steamed when his phone bill went up a few months ago that he had it taken out. Since then, we've been communicating by postcard."

This didn't sound credible, but Pete kept his expression neutral. "It's good to hear that Clark will be earning college money," he said lightly. "How does Claire like Smallville?"

"She seems to like it fine. But isn't that a question you could ask the young lady herself at school?"

"So far, we haven't had a proper conversation together. I was hoping she and I could change that."

"She's up in her room. If you have time now, the two of you can have a friendly chat."

Pete hadn't expected to encounter Claire at home. But it was hard to predict the movements of a girl who traveled at super-speed.

"She might be tired after school."

"She's always full of energy," Mr. Kent said. "Please push the wheelbarrow into the garage for me. Then we'll call Claire downstairs."

Pete wheeled the heavy load into the garage, then followed Jonathan into the house. Foreboding prickled along his spine. Claire was already angry with him—there was every chance this meeting might not go well.

Claire sat on the living room couch, looking up in surprise when Pete entered behind her uncle. Pete offered a tentative smile, trying to gauge her reaction without seeming obvious.

"Claire," Jonathan began, "Pete stopped by to say hi. He says the two of you haven't had the opportunity to get to know each other properly yet."

Claire's eyebrows raised, though her expression remained guarded. "Oh, really?"

"While you two talk," Jonathan continued, "I'll go help Martha get supper on the table. You're welcome to join us, Pete."

"Thank you," Pete said. He waited until the old man was out of earshot before addressing Claire. He had to think quickly to explain why he'd come here directly from school.

"Ahh, Claire, you left school so quickly that I wasn't able to tell you why I wanted to speak to you." He took a breath. "I've been building up courage the last couple of days to ask you to the Homecoming dance next Saturday night—as my date. Getting to know the kids when they're out having fun could be a good way to feel at home in Smallville."

"I see," Claire replied without warmth. "That's... very kind of you, Pete. But I'm still not sure what to make of you."

Pete nodded in understanding. "No pressure, Claire. I just thought that the best way to take my measure is to spend some time together at an easy-going social function. You may not have noticed, but life in Smallville can be fun." He paused. "If you change your mind about my invitation, the offer stands."

Claire returned only a small, uncertain smile. "Thank you, Pete. I'll let you know by next Saturday." With that, she stood and returned upstairs.

Pete remained alone in the living room, mind racing. Martha poked her head out from the kitchen. "Are you two done with your talk already?"

"I guess so. I invited her to the Homecoming dance, and she said she'd think about it."

"That's very good." Martha smiled warmly. "Listen, I'll do my best to encourage our lovely niece to go with you. Jonathan already invited you to supper. If you wait around, the two of you can resume your conversation."

"That would be wonderful," Pete said. Inwardly, he wondered how he had stepped into this. Taking Claire on a date hadn't been on his mind when he'd arrived.

Claire came downstairs to her mother's call and looked dismayed to see Pete seated at the supper table. After her rejection, she hadn't expected him to stay.

"We've had Pete over many a time," Pa Kent said. "We've known him for years now."

"Sure," Claire replied, taking her usual place at the table—which was next to Pete in the guest chair. Usually, he ate at the foot of the table. She wondered if her parents had deliberately put them side-by-side. If so, what did they think they were doing?

The four ate quietly. Ma and Pa Kent finished quickly and left the kitchen with transparent haste, leaving Claire and Pete sitting alone.

"Claire," Pete began, keeping his voice steady. "I understand that you're going through a lot right now—being away from home and friends, starting school in a new town. I respect that. But you haven't smiled much since you arrived, and I'd like to change that."

Claire's eyes met Pete's. "Pete, I appreciate your offer," she replied, tone measured. "But I just don't have the right headspace for party-going. I have a lot of heavy stuff to sort out."

"Is there anything I can help with?"

"I'm pretty sure you can't. Most of it is personal."

"I get that, Claire," he said, having expected her refusal. "I just want you to know that if you need another friend in this town, I'll do all I can to make you feel welcome."

"Like I said, I'll think about it," she said finally.

Pete smiled. "That's all I ask, Claire. I'd like to get to know you better. If you have the same qualities as your cousin, you have to be a very nice person."

After Pete made his goodbyes, Claire returned to her room.
Sitting on her bed, Claire's thoughts tumbled through her mind like autumn leaves in a gust of wind. She'd only been a girl for a few days, and already a boy had asked her to a dance. That was almost funny.

But instinct told her there might be more to Pete's behavior than he was admitting. It was like she'd suddenly lost her ability to read him.

Had Pete laughed at her, or had it only seemed that way? Could she have misunderstood? She could see planets light-years away, but had no power to look back in time and see what had happened in that Smallville classroom only a few hours ago.

As she sank her head into the pillow, she couldn't help wondering whether it was a mistake to stay cut off from social interaction as long as she remained a girl. There was no way to know how long her condition would last—or even if it would ever end. She didn’t want anyone she knew to see her this way. Unfortunately, even though a Kryptonian would be safe anywhere she traveled, Claire Kent had no place to go where she'd have friends and family.

She winced. The thought of going to a dance with a boy was surreal. What next? Would Pete be asking for movie dates, lunches, picnics, or a trip out to Milford Lake for a swim?

Part of her didn't want to push Pete away. Pete's friendship was one of the few things she might salvage from her old life. She didn't want to let anything so important slip away. But dating would compel her to play "girl" with Pete, and she wasn't sure she could pull that off. Embarrassment and Kryptonite were the only things her invulnerability couldn't ward off.

She reached for the phone, then settled back against the pillow. Pete might not be home yet. Also, the dance was more than a week away. If she called him so soon, it might make her seem flighty. Worse, she might sound too eager. That might send Pete the wrong message. For appearance's sake, she would wait until the following night to accept his invitation.

Claire turned out the light and pressed her face into the pillow. She wondered whether natural sleep would come, or whether she'd have to slip into a meditative trance to escape from the thoughts buzzing through her mind like angry wasps.

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TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 4