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"Nice!" I smile as Bruce delivers a spin kick to the punching bag.
"I did it?" Bruce grins.
"You did it." I nod. "But practice makes perfect. We still got a long way to go. Let's finish this in the morning." I take off my boxing gloves.
"I spoke with Lana earlier. She said prom is tomorrow."
"Yeah, guess so."
"You're not going?"
"No." I shake my head. "I went to the Spring Formal my freshman year."
"How was it?"
"Sweaty gym, half wasted couples—very high school." I nod.
"Did you go with anyone?" Bruce asks.
"No, I went stag. Met up with my friends there." I place my boxing gloves down on the couch before pouring some water.
"Clark didn't ask you?"
"No. Why would he ask me?"
"You know why."
"Bruce Thomas Wayne." I hand him his water before sighing. "Look, we danced, okay? For two minutes. I had to leave early because I was gonna go back to Denver with my mom for the summer."
"How was it?" Bruce sips some water.
"I changed my mind. I didn't go."
"Why?"
"Just didn't feel right. And there was a huge storm that night, so I dodged a bullet."
"I see." He grins
"Stop grinning and drink your H2O."
"He likes you."
"What?"
"Clark. You were all he talked about when everyone stayed here. He likes you." Bruce nods.
"No, he doesn't. He likes driving me mad." I deadpan.
"And you like that."
"Okay, bedtime. Now."
"You should go to prom."
"I don't want to."
"Why not?" Bruce furrows his eyebrows.
"I just don't like dances." I shrug.
"So why did you go to the last one?"
"Because it was my first dance. Ever. And it was fine. It was nothing mind blowing, so how would it be any different this time around?
"You won't know if you don't go."
"I'm fine with not knowing, Bruce. I wanna be done with high school. And I will be—just two more weeks."
