THE NEW GIRL IN SMALLVILLE
by Christopher Leeson
Part Two
After their return home, Clair spent the next three days allowing his foster mother to instruct her about how a girl walks, moves, and talks. The night before her debut in school, Mrs. Kent picked assembled an outfit for Claire to wear — a white blouse and a pink skirt.
The next morning, Jonathan put a “closed” sign in the store window. Clark’s room redecoration for Claire required the pair’s full commitment. The girl had removed Clark’s things and hidden them in a dugout room in the tunnel system. The room had undergone a gender change by afternoon. The dresser and closet were full of different clothing and shoes. Martha’s childhood dressing table was moved from attic storage for Claire to use. Mrs. Kent cluttered it with combs, hairpins, brushes, and items of makeup. A Disney Princess rack was placed upon it to hold small objects. In the late afternoon, Claire came home angry. She told her mother about some of the awkward experiences she’d had during her first day at school. But the anger in her blood ran hotter than that.
She seethed with indignation. She didn’t enjoy living this way! The ungrateful Shar-La had attacked Superboy maliciously and ruined his life! Superboy’s actions, she realized, led directly to her present-day problems.
After school, fate had subjected her to another indignity. Claire had flown to the county fair, where she had seen a girl performer in danger. After she intervened to save her from harm, a crowd gathered. She chose this as the moment to tell the town about her Superboy's sister. Impulsively, she assigned herself the name of “Super-Sister.”
One fair-goer addressed her with a loud voice, asking whether she’d be able to handle all the trouble that Superboy was used to dealing with.
“Why shouldn't I be able to handle it?” Super-Sister had replied.
“You’re only a girl!” the man had answered.
In the privacy of the Kent home, Claire swore out loud. People will never admit that I measure up. I’ve finished about making trouble for myself by helping people!
Mrs. Kent could only hope that her new daughter’s declaration came from her anger, not from her heart.
#
The next morning, Claire Kent began her second day as a female senior. As she went along the hall, her super hearing heard all the surrounding whispers.
They put her on edge. How picky people were about little things! They made her feel like she had to walk on eggs, to keep from saying or doing little things that her schoolmates might seize upon! She would have preferred living in a jungle in preference to Smallville.
As Claire approached the door to her first-period class, she continued to hear unwelcome comments. To her relief, most of them were chattering about the sudden appearance of Super-Sister at the fair. It was big news. Superboy had departed from Earth and had left his sister behind to fill his cape and boots.
When class let out, the new girl spotted Lana Lang with female friends in the locker area. Lana waved her over. "Claire!” she called.
"Hey, Lana," Claire said. "Morning, everyone.”
Lana hurriedly introduced her to the cluster of girls. Claire, needing to go to another class, departed with a smile and a nod. But the feeling that everyone was stealing glances at her had not yet abated.
Claire sat near them without saying very much. But one of the girls at the table mentioned how she always disliked Phy. Ed. class because of the group showers.
That reminded the girl from Krypton that she was going to attend her first girls’ gym class the next day, Tuesday! Shower with nude girls? The thought made her blood run cold.
#
One of those surreptitious onlookers was Pete Ross, a tall, athletic-looking senior with very fair hair. Leaning against the wall, he watched Claire interact with Lana and the others.
The athletic-looking brunette looked edgy, but Pete supposed that meeting new people made her nervous. What impressed the Smallville boy more than that was Claire’s uncanny resemblance to his friend Clark Kent.
Pete suddenly started seeing a pattern. The afternoon before, a super-powered girl calling herself Super-Sister had appeared at the county fair. A snapshot in the morning paper showed a black-haired girl who looked like a female version of Superboy.
Her costume was the same as his, except that she wore a pair of red trunks instead of trousers like his. It was not surprising if Superboy’s sister looks like him, but why should Claire Kent look like Clark at the same time? The pair were not blood cousins. Clark had been an adopted child.
Did Clark Kent have a Kryptonian sister who had just arrived on Earth to assume the identity of Claire Kent? Or was something else happening? Some funny business was afoot, and Pete wanted to know what it was all about.
After the next class period, Pete watched the halls for Claire and approached her swiftly when she came into view.
"Hi, Claire,” he called out. “I know your cousin Clark. Welcome to Smallville. How do you like it here so far?"
Claire glanced up at the boy, now much taller than she was. “Hi, Pete,” she replied in a controlled tone. “I haven’t seen all of Smallville so far."
Pete tried not to react visibly to her reply. How did she know his first name without him mentioning it? “Smallville's a great place,” he said. “Lots of interesting things happen around here. Superboy, especially, has always kept this town lively”.
“But I hear that he’s left the planet Earth,” he added. “I’m sorry you won’t get a chance to see him. Have you heard that he’s been replaced by a super girl, one who’s called Super-Sister. Pretty crazy, huh?”
“Yeah, crazy," she agreed."
Pete noted a slight tension in her jaw. She looked tense, on guard. “I heard about you last night,” he said. “They say you’re Clark Kent’s cousin. Clark and I are good friends. Do you know Clark very well?”
Claire's kept her composure. “I only know him from the letters and cards that his folks exchange with my dad. I never got to meet him in person.”
Pete smiled. “Well, I hope you can meet him soon. He’s a great guy. Where is he now? Clark never told me he was leaving town.”
“He’s working for my dad in Florida. Clark’ll attend school there until he can come home.”
“I guess all of us could use a job to help pay for college next year,” said Pete Ross.
Later on, after lunch break, Pete Ross returned to his locker, his mind racing. During the day, a crazy theory had popped into his mind. What if this girl were not a Kryptonian relative of Clark’s? What if Claire was actually Clark Kent himself in a female form?
According to the fan news, had something occurred to change Clark into a girl? Or was it only that sudden sex-changes were normal for Kryptonian people?
If Claire was indeed Clark, and this change had come upon him involuntarily, what he was undergoing had to be horrifying. Pete wanted to help. And he wanted his friend to know that he had someone on hand willing to help him. But he wasn’t going to reveal his secret knowledge easily. That would be a last resort.
He hoped that his guess about Claire being Clark was wrong. The truth was out there, and he was determined to find it.
#
The weekend came, and Claire continued her study on how to live as a girl. She had plenty of books that she read at super speed. These included The Girl’s Guide to Absolutely Everything. She didn’t feel like going patrolling as Super-Sister. No one appreciated it, so why should she?
The Monday morning school crowd buzzed with energy. Everything around her was familiar, but everything seemed strange, because she was herself not the same as she and been.
As Claire made her way to her first, she kept her eyes open. Her reading had encouraged her to pay more attention to the nuances of female behavior so she could imitate it.
She noticed that girls often huddled together, protecting one another, sharing secrets. Their world was solar systems away from the social conduct of boys. Boys would tell coarse jokes, roughhouse, and banter challengingly. Clark had once walked comfortably among boys, but Claire felt at sea both around boys and around girls. Each sex now related to her in ways that she wasn’t used to. Understanding how to be a girl was like exploring a jungle.
As the home economics teacher began her lesson, Claire tried to focus on the message, but her mind was a whirlwind. Clark had been missing from school for a week. She wondered if anyone missed him. Clark had cultivated a private life, wanting to keep himself aloof because his role as Superboy mattered above everything else. He never signed up for after-school activities, using the excuse that he had to help his dad at the store.
But what about now? She wasn't interested in launching a new career as Super-Sister. Instead, she felt uneasy about patrolling Smallville as a poor imitation of Superboy. How many people would be thinking, “She’s just a girl!”
Clark missed Superboy. Without him, his life would have been empty. Clark had no close friends in town except Pete Ross. But Pete had laughed at her like she was ridiculous. Could she forgive that? It didn’t seem possible. Friendships between a boy and a girl were so different from the friendship between two boys.
As the teacher talked on, Claire sighed. She couldn’t go back to her old life as long as this girl business lasted. Might it last forever? With Clark’s life gone, she faced building a new type of life. But what sort of life would that be? It would be a type of life that had to be built from the ground up. What a depressing thought!
#
At lunch, Claire noticed a girl’s arm waving. It was Lana, again seated with friends near the windows. Wanting company, she picked her way through the dinner crowd to join one of her very few good friends.
"Hey, Claire," Lana greeted her cheerfully. "How's your second week of school going?"
Claire forced a smile. "It's been...interesting," she replied. "I’m still getting used to everything."
Lana nodded sympathetically. “I can imagine. But don't worry. I hope you noticed everybody likes you! Smallville might seem small, but it's got a big heart. “Say, the homecoming dance is coming up soon. I know you don’t know many boys yet, so would you want me to help you find?”
“I—I never liked the idea of blind dating,” Claire replied. “It runs so against two people liking one another so much that they want to date.”
“Don’t say no too quickly,” cautioned Lana. “There are a lot of good guys in Smallville.”
Claire grimaced. “Even at the best of times, I’m nervous about meeting new people.”
“That may be, but if you start feeling better about the idea, just let me know!”
Later, in science class, Claire’s active mind continued to dread the looming event. The teacher, Mr. Harris, paced the room as he usually did. Today, he was going on about molecular structures. Clark had flashed through many science books and this basic material left Claire bored and restless.
"Claire," Mr. Harris called out, his voice stern. "Would you mind answering the question I asked?"
Claire looked up, blinking. "I'm s-sorry, Mr. Harris," she stammered. "What did you ask?"
The class tittered, and Claire felt her face flush warmly.
Mr. Harris sighed. "I asked you to give me the chemical formula for table salt."
Claire nodded. “The formula is NaCl. Sodium chloride.”
“Yes,” said Harris. “That’s collect. But please try to look more attentive, especially when you’re being attentive.”
#
Back home that evening, Claire sat dejectedly on her bed, her knees drawn to her chest, staring out the window at the setting sun. The sun’s rays would have blinded a normal human, but Claire’s supervision could safely inspect the sunspots on the star’s surface. Recent events played over and over in her mind like a movie reel. Her emotions came at her in fast-forward—anger, frustration, fear, and a deep sense of loss.
As she sat there, lost in thought, the girl heard a soft knock at her door. She looked up as her mother, Martha Kent, poked her head in, smiling warmly.
"Claire, honey," Martha whispered, "I thought you might like some company."
Claire forced a small smile. "Thanks, Mom," she said, patting the bed beside her. "You’re right. At school, I’m surrounded by crowds, but I still feel alone."
“Is that why you look so glum?” Martha asked.
“It’s worse than that. I feel like I’ve lost the only friend I ever had,” said her daughter.
“Not Lana?”
“No, Pete Ross.”
“Why? What did he say to you?”
“He hardly said anything. Something feels wrong when I talk to him. It's not the same.”
Martha sat down next to her girl. "You know, sweetheart," she began, "life has a way of throwing us curveballs. That's part of living. But what we do with those curveballs decides which way our lives will turn." She leaned close and gave Claire a hug.
Claire relaxed into the embrace. “That’s what worries me–– how my life has changed,” she whispered.
“Where’s it going?” her mother asked.
“I wish I knew.”
#
A ringing alarm abruptly woke Claire the next morning. She lay in place for a moment, staring up at the ceiling, dreading the day ahead. Tuesday would deal her another body blow of mortification.
Once out of bed, she selected clothes for school. Dresses still felt wrong on her, but she was at least grateful that Ma Kent hadn’t bought her any miniskirts.
Downstairs, the smell of pancakes and bacon filled the air. Her parents greeted her from the table with encouraging smiles. Claire could have almost preferred that they looked as agitated as she felt. Weren't they feeling this disaster as deeply as she was?
"Good morning, Claire," Jonathan Kent said pleasantly. "Ma made your favorite—blueberry pancakes."
Claire smiled tightly. "Thanks, Dad. They smell delicious."
Despite the smiles, they spoke very little. The only thing Claire could think about was the shower awaiting her at school. Was this going to be her life now? One embarrassing moment after another?
From the table, Claire went directly to the street. Near the town’s center, Claire noticed an out-of-state car turn the wrong way on a one-way street and blundered into the path of an oncoming car going thirty.
At super speed, Claire could have stopped the accident, except that an inner voice spoke up, saying, “It’s not your concern.” And then cars collided.
Claire held her reactive grimace all the way to school. She kept trying to force her anger at the world to the front of her mind, so she could forget about the unnecessary collision she could have prevented.
“Damn it!” she asked herself. “Why should any of this be my responsibility?”
The girl drifted into the morning class, preoccupied. With her first step into the room, Claire felt a tug at her waist; a second step brought on disaster. With a loud rip, the skirt was torn from around her waist and Claire Kent was left standing in plain sight, bare below the waist. Everyone could see her bright red spanky and her bare legs. Her skirt had caught on an insufficiently driven nail on the door frame.
Laughter irrupted. Claire stood frozen with every eye fixed upon her. She quickly grabbed the torn skirt from the exposed nail and wrapped it around her waist like a towel. Her glance fixed on Pete Ross across the room. He was laughing at her, too!
Claire darted out of the classroom and, with blurring speed, reached home in seconds. She felt the tickle of tears on her cheeks. Tears!
She gritted her teeth. Tears were for girls!
And in no way in the world was she -- was he -- a girl!
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