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February, junior year
“You know, I’ve been told by reliable sources that they do this on purpose.”
“Really? Why?”
“It’s all about control. You don’t believe me?”
“It seems a little unlikely.”
“Think about it. They say, ‘Be here at this time.’ And you know you’d be in trouble if you were late, right?”
“Well...”
“Of course you would be. So you rush to get here on time. And what happens? You have to wait on her. See? It’s all about control. She’s showing you who’s in charge.”
“Oh.”
“Trust my wisdom in these matters, Clark.”
“It’s just that...”
“Yes?”
“It’s just that you make it sound like Alice being in charge is a bad thing.”
Pause. “That was a very good answer, Clark. You keep that attitude up and you may just get some this evening.”
“Lex!”
“Lex!” Meg stood in the doorway of the living room with her hands on her hips. Lex did not look the least bit chastised but rather grinned as charmingly as he could at the older woman, who merely rolled her eyes. “You look very nice, Clark,” she finally said, walking over to fuss with Clark’s bowtie the same way his mother had. Clark knew better than to point out that he would just have to have Lex—someone who was actually familiar with bowties—straighten it up when she was finished, just as Lex had repaired the “fixing” his mother had done.
“Thank you, Ms. Wilson,” he replied politely. He felt very stiff and foolish in a tux. A dork in a nice suit was still a dork, just like Lex in a ratty sweatsuit would still be commanding and confident.
“Just to warn you, I’ll be taking some pictures of you two before you leave,” Meg continued, holding up her camera. “The Princess has given me clearance for this, so—“
“I heard that!” The voice filtered down from upstairs.
“Will Her Majesty be ready anytime soon?” Meg replied dryly. “Some of us have things we’re waiting to do until the children leave the house.”
Lex chuckled, Clark turned beet red, and Alice made gagging sounds from out of sight. “I may never leave the house again!” she informed them tartly.
“I think you’d probably regret that more, in the end,” Lex assured her, leaning on the banister.
“You guys are so disgusting,” Alice muttered, her voice coming closer. Neither Meg or Lex seemed overly concerned with this opinion. “Clark, are you ready to flee at top speed?”
“Um, apparently there’s pictures or... something,” he offered apologetically.
“Grrrr,” replied Alice. “Okay, fine, I’m coming down.”
“Oh, no, take your time if you aren’t ready,” Meg deadpanned. “Lex, would you just go put that thing in the microwave for another thirty seconds?”
“I said I’m coming down!” Alice shouted. “I’m just waiting for my dramatic pause!”
Everyone quieted and held still for a few seconds. The few seconds stretched into several, then thirty. “Um, Alice?” Clark prompted.
“Sorry, I was adjusting something,” she informed him. “Okay, now I’m ready.”
Alice finally appeared at the top of the stairs, gracing those assembled with a smile. With poise worthy of a grand duchess—which had no doubt taken much practice to achieve—she descended the stairs halfway so that they could gaze upon her figure in the proper light. Or at least the light from the hall.
Clark’s jaw was on the floor, which Alice decided was a good sign. The normally unflappable Lex watched her with wide eyes, but Meg, who was used to such concoctions, merely arched an eyebrow. The dress was, as Alice had revealed to Clark, dark purple. It was also of a suitable length for a formal Valentine’s Day dance at the school gym, with elegant white satin gloves that went past her elbows. Additionally, the dress was quite low-cut and supported only by the thinnest of spaghetti straps over her shoulders, and it was nearly skin-tight until almost her knees—Clark swore he could even see the outline of her bellybutton. Oh, and it appeared to be made out of plastic.
“Well,” Lex finally said, breaking the silence, “if you spill something on her, she’ll be easy to wipe off.”
Alice glared at him to show how much stock she gave his fashion opinion. “What do you think, Clark?” she asked sweetly.
“Wow.” It was the only syllable Clark was capable of making.
Alice looked at Lex as if to say, “See? Someone likes it.” She continued down the stairs until she reached the floor and was almost standing on top of Clark, who seemed glued in place. “You look nice,” she told him, tweaking the bowtie. Lex winced at the abuse it was receiving tonight, but Clark didn’t seem to notice.
The older man looked Alice up and down with a frown as soon as she landed on the tile. “Are you taller?” Lex asked suspiciously. She appeared to be the same height as Clark, who usually towered over everyone.
Alice smirked and pulled her PVC skirt up a bit to display the massive heels on her shiny black boots. “Six inches,” she noted. “I thought I’d go all out. Hey, and look at this...” She kept pulling the skirt higher, revealing the black buckles crossing the back of her legs instead of a solid piece of boot—all the way up past her knees. Clark’s love of fishnet was firmly cemented in that instant.
“Wow,” he breathed again.
“Holy c—p, girl,” Lex commented, ogling—er, staring—as well. “Are you going to a high school dance or some kind of Amazon fertility ritual-slash-butt-kicking?”
Alice glared down from the four inches she now had on him and was about to reply with something no doubt witty and cutting when a flash of light caught them all off guard. “Mom!” Alice squealed instead, dropping her skirt and turning to face the culprit.
Meg smirked in satisfaction as she viewed the photo she had just taken on the screen of the digital camera. “Perfect,” she declared. She looked up. “I guess you kids can go now.”
“Mom, that so does not count as a picture,” Alice insisted. “That was just—your boyfriend leering at me!”
“Hey, I wasn’t leering,” Lex protested indignantly. “And-and Clark was leering too!”
“Clark is allowed to leer,” Alice responded primly, brushing a strand of hair back behind her ear.
“I am?” Lex covered his mouth so Clark wouldn’t notice his grin at the teenager’s delighted expression. Good G-d, had he ever been that elated just to look at a girl? Maybe when he was twelve or something. “Wow.”
“Alright, if that didn’t count, hurry up and start posing,” Meg ordered them. Clark was content to be positioned as the Wilson women saw fit, in front of the door or perhaps that wall would be better, while Lex lurked in the background making deliberately unhelpful suggestions. He did, however, finally get a chance to fix Clark’s bowtie. It had really been bothering him.
Finally it was agreed the picture-taking tradition had been satisfied and the two teenagers were allowed to exit the premises. “Hey, Clark!” Lex called from the doorway, stopping them on the porch stairs. He tossed something and Clark caught it automatically, really hoping it wasn’t some... embarrassing item. When he dared open his hand, he found it was instead the keys to Lex’s Porsche. The teenage boy imagined the grey leather of Lex’s black Porsche, Alice’s plastic purple dress, and those thigh-high black boots, and his knees almost gave out. Words failed him.
“Wow.”
“Just remember,” Lex grinned, “you stain it, you clean it.”
“Lex!”
“Lex!”