"Is that the invitation for the ball," Clark asks.
"Mm-hmm. I just RSVP'd. I hope Lex gets a good turnout," Mom nods.
"I can't imagine anyone from Metropolis who's-who list not showing up to help the families affected by Dark Thursday," he says, grabbing an apple from the fridge.
"You know, I, uh, I responded for three."
"You're going," Clarke questions me.
"Why not," I shrug.
"Well, thanks, Mom, but costumes really aren't my thing. Besides, it's not really the place for a reunion, you know?"
She sighs. "How do you feel about the two of them together?"
"I don't know. It's like they're different people," he replies, picking up the paper, looking at the article "The Next Lex Girl."
"We all have our own ways of moving on. Whether it's about growing up or just surviving," Mom says.
"Mom, I've lost Lana, dad, Jor-El. You don't see me as a different person."
"Well, in a lot of ways you are. All of those things have shaped the person you are now. And the person you'll become," I say.
*later*
As I'm cutting up an apple, my knife slips, and I cut my finger. "Shit," I curse.
I grab a rag from underneath the sink and wrap it around my finger when I hear a knock at the door. I groan, walking toward it. The guy at the door looks up, and my eyes widen slightly at how absolutely attractive he is.
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"Hey," I greet with a smile.
"Hi," he smiles back, handing me a letter. I take it from him, looking down at it.
""Queen Industries." Oh, Mom's been waiting for this for weeks," I say.
"Mom?"
"Yeah, she's my mom," I nod. "Thanks."
"You're welcome."
"Well, I, uh, I have a bit of a mess to clean up, so...," I say, gesturing toward the rag wrapped around my finger.
"Oh, are you okay?"
"I'm fine. Just a little nick," I nod. He doesn't walk away from the door making me speak. "Oh, crap. I'm sorry," I comment, reaching into my pocket and pulling out a 20 dollar bill. "Just so you know with a face like that, you could do a whole lot better than, uh, playing errand boy to the rich and arrogant. Here."
"Thank you very much. What-what is, uh..."
"Your tip."
"It's a tip. Oh-kay."
He takes it, and I speak. "Seriously, aim higher."
With that, I shut the door.
I toss the envelope on the counter, as I grab the first aid kit.
"Thought I heard the door," Mom says, as I pour a little bit of alcohol over the cut.
"Yeah, your pledge finally sailed in from Queen Industries," I say, pointing at the letter on the counter. She walks over to it, looking around.
"Where's the man who came with it?"
"The errand boy? Oh, I gave him his tip and sent him on his way," I reply, as I wrap the Band-Aid around my finger.
"Handsome, chiseled features, with a smile that could light up a barn?"
"Mom, do you have a crush on the errand boy," I joke.
"You mean the billionaire CEO who stopped by to talk about his financial support on my platform? No, Callie, I don't. I've never even met him. And now, I probably never will." She walks off, and I silently curse at myself.
