Meteor Freak
Episode 4: Craving
Date: Wednesday, August 17, 2011.
Location: Melville Nursery, Smallville, Kansas
Rows of lush plants stretched out under the diffused sunlight inside the greenhouse. A teenage girl knelt in the soil, working a carrot out of the raised bed. The rich earth was flecked with glowing green meteor rocks.
Mr. Melville entered. He approached with his hands tucked into his pockets and a hesitant posture. "You know, Jody, if you're not in the mood for my spaghetti, we could always order Thai food," he suggested.
Jody didn't look up, continuing to work the soil. "No spaghetti, no Thai. I-I want to look good for the Luthor wedding reception this weekend."
Mr. Melville sighed, taking a few steps closer to Jody. His voice took on a pleading tone. "I just think that maybe you're focusing a little too hard on this one party."
"It's not just the party. It's everything. It's nobody likes me, and why should they?" She stood up abruptly, brushing the dirt from her hands. "I'm a cow." She walked over to a nearby table, picking up a carton filled with fresh produce. Her voice took on a forced cheerfulness. "But I've got a new plan. From now on, there will be no more food, just this." She lifted the carton, indicating the vegetables inside.
Mr. Melville watched her leave, evidently concerned. He turned to a nearby bucket filled with glowing green meteor rocks. Reaching out, he picked one up, turning it over in his hands.
Inside the house, Jody entered the kitchen. She emptied the carton of vegetables onto the counter, sorting through the colorful array of produce. She rinsed and scrubbed off the dirt. Afterward, Jody fed the vegetables into a juicer, one by one, watching them transform into a thick, green liquid. She poured the juice into several bottles. Once the bottles were filled, they were carefully placed into her backpack. She zipped it up, slung it over her shoulder, and headed for the door.
Pausing at the threshold, her hand rested on the doorknob momentarily before she turned it and stepped outside. Jody's footsteps crunched on the gravel driveway, and her backpack bounced slightly with each step. As she reached the end of the driveway, Jody turned onto the main road toward Smallville High.
She passed by the Beanery, its windows still dark in the early hours. A few early risers nodded greetings as they passed. As she approached the school, the sounds of students chattering and car doors slamming grew louder. Smallville High came into view. Students milled about on the front lawn, catching up with friends before the first bell. Jody climbed the steps to the main entrance, pushing through the doors into the busy hallway. She reached her locker and spun the combination lock until the door swung open with a metallic creak. Jody carefully removed her backpack, unzipping it to reveal the bottles of green juice nestled inside. She arranged them neatly on the top shelf of her locker before grabbing the books for her first class. Closing the locker door, she joined the flow of students heading to their classrooms.
Usually, she'd be heading to the Torch, but ironically enough, the office had been damaged in a fire. Instead, her destination this morning was the library. She passed students huddling over books and computers in quiet activity. The temporary school newspaper office had been set up on long tables in a secluded corner. Unpacking a bunch of magazines from her bag, she hunched over a table with a group of other students.
Carefully cutting around the edges of a glossy magazine photo, the image of a slim model in a stylish outfit fell away, leaving only the blank space where a head should be. Jody reached for another magazine, flipping through its pages until she found a photo of herself. She cut out her face and carefully pasted it onto the headless model's body. Leaning back, she examined her handiwork with longing and frustration.
As Jody reached for another magazine, a voice came over her shoulder. "Cutting the heads off supermodels?" Chloe Sullivan, the Torch's editor, quipped. "It's kind of redundant, isn't it?"
Jody quickly closed the magazine, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Just looking for outfit ideas," she mumbled, forcing a smile. Pete appeared behind Chloe, his eyes drawn to the magazine on the table. As he reached out to take a closer look, Jody's hand shot out, sliding it away. "I still don't have anything to wear for the wedding this weekend," Jody said, trying to change the subject. "What's up?"
"Uh, Pete and I hoped you could give us a quick algebra download." Pete, undeterred, made another attempt to peek at the magazine. Jody smoothly moved it out of his reach. "We'll even buy you lunch." Chloe finished.
Jody's eyes lit up for a moment before dimming again. "You don't need to do that," she said, "but I'll sit with you and help. Just let me grab my juice from my locker." She packed her pictures and magazines and joined the two in the hall.
In front of her open locker, Jody carefully poured the thick, green liquid she had prepared that morning into a cup. Pete eyed the drink warily, his nose wrinkling slightly. "That looks, uh... appetizing."
Jody sighed but tried to remain upbeat. "Losing weight is never pretty." She took a sip of the green sludge, then held the cup out to Pete. He raised his hand, politely declining the offer.
The moment was interrupted by the arrival of two boys, one of whom was bouncing a basketball. "Hey, Ross," the boy with the basketball mockingly called out, "We're getting a little game together. Do you want in, or do you want to keep whale watching?"
The two boys burst into laughter, causing Jody's face to fall.
Pete stepped up to defend her, "Dustin, back off."
But Dustin's grin only widened. "Ooh, chill out, cool guy. I didn't know you were a chubby chaser."
Dustin threw a bounce pass, deliberately aiming it to hit Jody. The impact sent her drink flying, the green liquid splattering across her clothes and face. Some of the splash even reached Chloe.
Pete snatched up the ball and glared at Dustin.
"Oh!" Dustin exclaimed in mock fear.
Without a word, Jody turned and fled down the hallway in embarrassment.
"Jody, wait!" Pete called after her.
Dustin watched Jody run away with a cruel smile. "Oh, man. You'd think someone that big would have a thicker skin."
Pete's patience snapped. He hurled the basketball directly at Dustin's face. The ball connected with a satisfying thud right in the center of Dustin's forehead.
Chloe angrily spat back, "You'd think someone that stupid would have a thicker head."
She walked off down the hallway, following Jody's path. Pete lingered for a moment, staring daggers at Dustin before he too turned with a frustrated exhale, and jogged after Chloe.
But instead of heading to the bathroom to clean up or the locker room to change, Jody went straight home. She burst through the front door, her chest heaving from the exertion of running all the way from school. Tears streaked her face, mingling with the remnants of the green juice that still clung to her skin. She rushed upstairs, peeling off her ruined shirt and tossing it into the laundry basket.
After changing into a fresh top, Jody headed straight for the kitchen. Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for the blender. She began tossing vegetables into the machine, and when she turned it on, the loud whir of the blades drowned out her sniffles. Her father appeared in the doorway, his brow furrowed with concern. He watched his daughter for a moment before speaking. "Jody, we've talked about this. Starving yourself isn't the way."
Jody didn't look up from her task, her voice tight with frustration. "I'm tired of waiting. Waiting and weighing and keeping a diary of everything I eat so that I can feel guilty if I have one extra grape."
Mr. Melville took a step into the kitchen, his voice softening. "I understand all that, but you can't stop eating. It's not healthy."
Ignoring her father's words, Jody poured herself a large glass of the green concoction. Mr. Melville walked over to her and gently touched her shoulder. "Honey, you're beautiful already, just like your mother," he said, trying his best to support her.
"No, Dad, I'm not. Mom wasn't fat."
Without another word, Jody lifted the glass to her lips and drank deeply. Mr. Melville looked down and sighed, his shoulders sagging with helplessness. Not for the first time, he wished his wife was still with him. He loved his daughter, but he felt ill-equipped to handle his teenager on his own. Jody finished her drink and set the glass down with a decisive thunk. She brushed past him and headed for the bathroom, closing the door behind her with a soft click.
Inside the bathroom, Jody walked over to the mirror. She studied her reflection intently, her eyes tracing the curves of her face. A small sigh escaped her lips as she bent down to remove her shoes.
With a deep breath, Jody stepped onto the scale. The numbers flickered for a moment before settling on 168 pounds. She stared at the number and her lips pressed into a thin line of displeasure.
Suddenly, a sharp pain gripped her stomach. Jody doubled over, clutching her midsection. As quickly as it had begun, the pain subsided. Jody straightened up, her hands still on her stomach. Lifting her shirt, she watched in disbelief as strange movements rippled across her abdomen.
Jody looked back into the mirror, and her jaw dropped as she watched her face transform before her eyes. The roundness of her cheeks seemed to melt away, revealing high cheekbones and a defined jawline.
In a daze, Jody stepped back onto the scale. The numbers began to tick downward rapidly. 168... 160... 155... 150... They continued to fall.
Jody tried to process what was happening and find an explanation for this sudden, dramatic change. She leaned close to the mirror, examining her face in detail. As she watched, her face continued to change. The last vestiges of fat melted away, leaving behind sculpted cheekbones and a delicate, model-like bone structure. Her eyes seemed larger, more striking against her newly defined features.
Her eyes traveled downward to examine the rest of her body. The shirt she wore had grown baggy, hiding her body's new shape. Jody lifted the hem, revealing a flat stomach with the beginnings of defined abs. She ran her hands down her sides, marveling at the new narrowness of her waist. Her thighs, once a source of frustration and self-consciousness, had slimmed and toned. Jody turned to the side, marveling at her transformed silhouette.
The girl staring back at her from the mirror was a far cry from the one who had entered the bathroom just minutes ago. Her reflection now showed a stunningly beautiful young woman with the kind of face and figure she had only dreamed of possessing.
— Meteor Freak —
Tyson sauntered up to Smallville High on Thursday morning. As he walked outside the basketball court, he caught snippets of conversation between Lana and Whitney on the sideline. "Lana, guess what? The scout called! I got the tryout with Kansas State!"
"I thought you were concussed. How are you going to try out?"
"I have to go. This is my future," Whitney insisted. "They want me there on Saturday, but that's the Luthor wedding. If you wanted to go together…" his voice trailed off leadingly.
Lana hesitated. "I don't think you should go if you're concussed. But don't put your future on hold for me, Whitney."
Whitney's voice dropped as his frustration crept through, "What are we, Lana?"
"I'm not sure," Lana admitted.
Tyson kept walking, never breaking his stride or glancing at the pair. He shook his head slightly and continued towards the school entrance. Clark, Chloe, and Pete stood near the doors, out of earshot of Lana and Whitney's conversation. They watched as Tyson approached. Chloe's eyes lit up with curiosity. "Did you catch what they were saying?"
Tyson gave a quick recap of the exchange he'd overheard.
Pete's face broke into a grin. "Clark, I'm telling you, this is good news for you."
Clark furrowed his brow. "Kansas State gives Whitney a full scholarship. How is that good news?"
"Even I'm having a hard time following the skewed Ross logic," Chloe quipped, raising an eyebrow.
Pete leaned in, his voice lowering conspiratorially. "Lana's gonna be dateless for the wedding."
Chloe rolled her eyes. "We're all dateless for the wedding, except Tyson."
"How does the new guy get a date before any of us?" Pete asked, incredulous.
"Because the new girl asked me?"
"Let me rephrase that," Pete said, "How does the new guy get a smoking hot billionaire to ask him?"
"My magnetic personality and astonishing good looks?" Tyson offered. Pete made a buzzer noise, indicating he was wrong. Tyson shrugged again, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Haters gonna hate."
The four of them walked past a picnic table where Jody sat, not noticing her at first.
"Hi, Pete," Jody called out.
The group turned around, and Jody stood up. She was noticeably thinner, and her appearance dramatically changed. She had model proportions and wore a dress that showed off her figure. It took them all a moment to realize who she was.
Pete's mouth hung open and flapped a few times before he finally found words. "Jody?"
Chloe, too, struggled to find the right words. "You look..."
"Thinner?" Jody supplied proudly.
"I was still looking for an euphemism, but yeah," Chloe admitted, walking over to join Pete, who'd stepped towards her.
Clark's brow furrowed with concern. "Are you okay?"
Jody beamed. "Never better. My diet's just starting to pay off. I bought some new clothes."
Pete's face broke into a warm smile. "You look great."
"Thank you for sticking up for me yesterday," Jody said, "Most people wouldn't have done that."
"Most people can't stand Dustin," Pete replied.
Jody laughed nervously. "Yeah. Listen, I was wondering... do you have a date for the wedding?"
Pete stared at her, speechless. Jody's smile faltered slightly as she waited for a response. Clark poked Pete in the back, prompting him to answer. When Pete remained dumbstruck, Clark stepped in.
"No, he's still free," Clark offered helpfully.
Jody's face brightened. "Would you like to go with me?"
Pete smiled goofily. Clark poked him again and answered for his friend, "He'd love to."
"Great," Jody said. "Okay, well, I'll see you later."
"Bye," Pete managed as Jody walked away. The group watched her leave, Pete's eyes following her retreating figure.
Chloe shook her head. "I don't get it."
Pete snapped out of it and glared at her. "Women dig me. Get used to it."
Tyson had been quiet the entire conversation. He noticed the glowing green aura around Jody. She had a power of some kind, but he wasn't going to out her. Instead, he nodded approvingly. "Hell yeah. Good job, Pete. She's cute."
After a pause, he added, "See that? That's how black men support black men. You should try it and stop sipping on that haterade."
Pete's laugh broke any lingering tension. Chloe rolled her eyes. "Not to break up this black love moment-"
"Whoa, pause," Tyson interjected, earning an amused look from Chloe.
She continued, undeterred. "I meant, I don't get Jody. It's like she lost that weight overnight."
Clark grinned. "If she could, half the school would be after that secret."
"Uh. Fine. You're right. Let's go," Chloe said, leading the group towards the school entrance.
In the second-period science lab, students huddled around their tables, engrossed in various experiments. Chloe approached the table where Pete and Clark sat with their heads bent over a curious arrangement of wires and oranges.
She surveyed their project. "What are you doing to those poor citrus?"
Clark explained, "Well, apparently, there's enough acid in them to act as a battery."
"How very Survivor of you," Chloe quipped. She paused for dramatic effect before adding, "What are you going to call it? A Clockwork Orange?"
Pete groaned good-naturedly. "Don't you wish you were the first to say that?"
Chloe's attention shifted to the next table, where Tyson sat. Unlike the others, he wasn't doing science; his focus was entirely on his cell phone. She couldn't resist asking. "What are you doing? Playing games?"
Tyson barely glanced up as he replied, "Nope, research."
Chloe's eyebrows shot up, her interest piqued. "Ooh, what are you researching?"
"Billionaires," Tyson answered casually.
A sly grin spread across Chloe's face. "Brushing up on info about your date, Kara Luthor?"
Tyson shook his head, still scrolling through his phone. "Nope, looking up other billionaires. Bruce Wayne, Oliver Queen, guys like that."
Chloe's reporter instincts went into overdrive. "Why?"
Tyson was trying to figure out if he was supposed to be Batman or the Green Arrow. Both were wealthy men who became superheroes in the DC universe. Since his bank account had so much money, he thought maybe he'd replaced one of them. However, according to his internet searches, both men existed and were still alive. Wherever the money had come from, it wasn't theirs. At least not so far as an internet search could reveal.
He finally answered, "I was just curious. I thought we might be related."
Pete, who had been listening in, couldn't resist chiming in. "Trying to become one of the elite through family ties. I see how you're doing it."
Tyson leaned back in his chair and placed his hands behind his head. "Nah, I'm already elite."
The banter was interrupted as another student approached their table. The hood of his sweatshirt partially obscured his face, and he moved with purpose toward an empty outlet near Clark and Pete's project. His eyes, intense and focused, barely registered the other students as he plugged in a cord.
Clark, still friendly but somewhat sarcastically, said, "Sure, you can use our outlet."
"Thanks." The hooded boy's response was curt, almost mechanical, and completely missed the sarcasm. Without another word, he retreated to his table.
Pete watched him go. "What's up with that guy?"
Chloe, always ready with information, jumped in, "His name is Cyrus Krup. He's a new student, like Kara and Tyson. The principal asked me to give him the new student propaganda tour, but Cyrus said he wouldn't be here long enough to need it."
"Maybe that's why he's trying so hard to win friends and influence people." Clark quipped.
Chloe couldn't help but smile at his sarcasm. She glanced at her watch, realizing she needed to return to her project. "Well, I better get back to my own citrus massacre," she said, gesturing to her table across the room. "Try not to blow anything up while I'm gone."
Pete grinned. "No promises. We might just create the next great power source right here in Smallville High."
"If you do, I want exclusive rights to the story," Chloe shot back, already moving away.
"Bye," Pete called after her.
"Bye," Chloe replied, throwing a wave over her shoulder.
As she returned to her experiment, Clark and Pete returned to their orange batteries while Tyson returned to his phone. He occasionally glanced up to observe his classmates. His eyes lingered on Cyrus across the room, where he worked at his table. The boy's actions were odd enough that he wondered if something else was going on. That, and he was the second new person Tyson had seen today with the glowing green aura, a telltale sign of a meteor power.
Pete and Clark continued to fine-tune their project. Clark, too, occasionally looked over at Cyrus. The contraption before him was unlike anything Clark had seen before. It was a golden sphere bristling with wires and pulsing with flashing lights resting on a circular base. It looked like something out of a sci-fi movie.
Cyrus stood and went over to a nearby table. He snatched up an extension cord from another student without so much as a word.
"What are you doing, man?" the student protested, but Cyrus ignored him.
With the cord in hand, Cyrus went to where Kyle, one of the football players, and his cronies were working. Without hesitation, he unplugged their equipment and inserted his newly acquired cord.
One of Kyle's friends looked up, indignant. "Hey. What are you doing?"
Kyle's face twisted with anger as he rose to his feet. "Hey, freak, why don't you jack in somewhere else?" He reached out and yanked the headphones off Cyrus's head.
"Gimme those!" Cyrus protested.
But Kyle slipped them on mockingly. His sneer morphed into a look of confusion. "Ooh, check it out, man. The loser's listening to a dial tone."
Cyrus snatched the headphones back, his eyes narrowing. "You don't have the mental capacity to comprehend that sound."
"Are you calling me stupid?" Kyle's voice dropped dangerously low.
Cyrus didn't back down. "Let's just say you're not one of mankind's brightest lights."
Kyle's face flushed red with anger. He lashed out, slapping the headphones from Cyrus's grasp. They clattered to the floor, and Kyle's friends joined in, grabbing Cyrus's experiment and tossing it between them like a game of keep-away.
"Hey, don't damage my transmitter!" Cyrus cried out, "Don't damage that!"
The boys laughed, continuing their cruel game. Clark, who had been watching the scene unfold, finally stepped in.
"Hey, guys. Why don't you just leave him alone?" Clark suggested firmly.
Kyle whirled on him, getting right in Clark's face. "Stay out of it, Kent."
Cyrus, his eyes never leaving his precious transmitter, spoke up. "I don't want to hurt you, Kyle. Just give me my transmitter back."
One of Kyle's friends sneered. "Get out of here, freak."
"I'm warning you," Cyrus said, his voice low and intense.
Kyle's response was to grab Cyrus by the shirt and slam him against a nearby table. His friends erupted in laughter.
"Yeah!" one of them cheered.
Clark immediately moved to help Cyrus up.
"Oh no, he's crying," one of Kyle's friends mocked as Clark and Cyrus started to walk away.
The taunts followed them. "That's right. Go home to momma."
"Bye."
"Poor baby!"
"Don't hurt the transmitter," another mimicked in a whiny voice.
Cyrus stopped in his tracks and slowly turned around. His gaze locked onto the group of bullies, his eyes burning with an intensity that made even Kyle take a step back. Suddenly, the tool rack on the wall behind them burst into flames.
"Whoa!" one of the boys yelped, stumbling backward.
Cyrus's voice was eerily calm. "Now leave me alone!"
Without another word, he strode out of the classroom, leaving a stunned silence in his wake. Clark remained rooted to the spot, his eyes wide as he stared at the flickering flames.
Across the room, Tyson watched the bullying. He considered jumping in but wanted to see if he could get an idea of what Cyrus's power was. His eyebrow arched as he took in the scene, the burning tool rack, the shocked expressions on everyone's faces, and Clark's deer-in-headlights look.
Another Kryptonian? Here in Smallville? Who the hell was Cyrus supposed to be? He'd never heard of this character in any of the Superman stories he knew. This was definitely not part of the canon he was familiar with. But Tyson questioned if he had actually used heat vision. He'd seen Clark's heat vision that first time in class, literally. There was a slight distortion when Clark used his, like waves of heat over pavement on a summer day. Tyson hadn't seen any of that just now. But the biggest giveaway was the color of their auras. Clark and Kara's auras were golden, while every… Meteor Freak had a green aura, Cyrus included.
Students scrambled away from the flames, shouting and pushing each other in their haste to get to safety. The acrid smell of smoke filled the air, and the fire alarm began to blare.
"Everyone, remain calm and exit the building!" the teacher shouted over the din, trying to restore order. Just like the last time there was a fire in class, Tyson was the only one who thought to go to the fire extinguisher and put it out.
Afterward, he jogged to catch up with the evacuating students. Tyson fell into step beside Clark. "So," he said in a low voice, "that was... interesting."
Clark nodded, his expression troubled. "Yeah, you could say that."
"I know what you're thinking," Tyson said, careful to keep his voice down as they joined the stream of students evacuating the building.
Clark glanced around to make sure no one was listening. "That Cyrus might be... like me?"
Tyson shook his head. "It might look like that, but I'm not convinced. I've never heard of him before today. Have you?"
Clark shook his head. "No, never. And I've never seen anyone else with abilities like mine."
Tyson snorted. "Wanna bet?" Clark raised an eyebrow, but Tyson waved the look away saying, "Either way, its worth looking in to."
— Meteor Freak —
Tyson jogged up to the Kent Farm after football practice. It was late in the afternoon, but he spotted Clark standing in the back of a truck, hefting bales of hay over the fence with ease. As Tyson approached, Clark visibly reduced his effort.
"Don't stop on my account, Superman," Tyson called out with a grin.
Clark's face broke into a relieved smile. He grabbed another bale and tossed it effortlessly over the fence. Tyson reached the truck, seized a bale of his own, and hurled it over with a grunt.
Tyson mocked his earlier words, "Never seen anyone else with abilities like mine, huh?"
Clark chuckled. "Was that what you did to Whitney?"
Tyson burst out laughing, but he cut it short as they both heard the sound of approaching hoofbeats. They turned to see Lana riding up on a chestnut horse, her hair flowing behind her in the breeze. Tyson couldn't help but mumble, "Yeah, I kinda see what you see now. Definitely pretty. She almost looks like a Disney princess riding that horse."
Clark nudged Tyson with his elbow, hoping he'd stop talking before Lana was close enough to hear what he was saying. He jumped down from the truck and walked over to greet her. "Hey."
"Hey," Lana replied, bringing the horse to a stop.
Clark reached out to pat the horse's neck. "Tyson, I haven't seen you in a long time."
Tyson's eyebrows shot up. "You named a horse after me?"
Lana quickly shook her head. "No, no. He's always had this name. I thought I'd take him out for a good run."
"Ah, gotcha," Tyson replied before mumbling, "That's going to get annoying quick." he walked over to the horse and patted it on its neck. He said, "From this moment forward, you will be known as Maverick. There's only one Tyson here."
"Maverick, huh? I like that." Lana's expression turned serious. "Chloe told me what happened at the electronics lab. Pretty wild."
Clark sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It was definitely weird. It's like Cyrus is in his own world. He takes teenage alienation to a whole new level."
"Well, we all have our ways of escaping from our lives," Lana mused. "I ride, Chloe writes, and you..." She glanced at the truck piled high with hay bales. "You do incredibly strenuous farm chores by yourself. While Tyson likes to hang out in fields."
Clark grinned, playing along. "Well, I guess you know my deepest and darkest secret now."
"Hang out in fields?" Tyson let out a sarcastic laugh. "Oh, haha. You Kans-asses, or whatever you call yourselves, are all so funny… Unless you're talking about the horse, in which case, acceptable."
Clark reached out to touch the horse's face, but the animal turned away with a grunt. "Whoa, boy."
Concern flashed across Lana's face. "He's been doing that a lot lately. I thought some air would do him good."
"Did you call the vet?"
Lana nodded. "Yeah. Um, he doesn't know what's wrong with him. Chalked it up to old age. Whitney's mom wants to sell him. She can't afford to stable him anymore."
Clark's face lit up with an idea. "Why don't you board him here?"
"Would your parents be okay with it?" Lana asked, hope creeping into her voice.
"I don't see why not. It is a farm, after all," Clark replied with a shrug.
Lana's smile was radiant. "Thanks."
As Clark and Lana shared a moment, Tyson thought to leave, giving them some time alone, but Lana turned to him. "Tyson, shouldn't you be getting ready for the big date?"
Tyson puffed out his chest. "Already handled, pretty lady. Paid for her dress, and my suit is tailored."
"What about the corsage?" Lana asked, raising a challenging eyebrow.
Tyson's confident expression faltered. "Shit, I knew I forgot something."
Lana laughed. "Why don't you stop by Nell's shop?"
"I'm pretty sure Nell doesn't like me after the naked joke I made the day after being the scarecrow," Tyson admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Aww, come on, she's not holding on to that, I promise," Lana assured him. "I'll come with you if you like."
Tyson shrugged, looking to Clark for input. Clark glanced at the remaining hay bales and sighed. "I've gotta finish these chores. It's my punishment for being allowed to join the football team."
"Alright, farm boy," Tyson teased. "You have fun with your manual labor. I'll go pick out some flowers with the Disney princess here."
Clark rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Just don't let it go to your head, Tyson."
"Too late," Tyson quipped, offering his arm to Lana. "Shall we, milady?"
Lana giggled, dismounting from her horse. "Let me just tie Tyson up first."
"Now there's a sentence I never thought I'd hear," Tyson muttered, earning a playful swat from Lana. "Don't get mad at me. I told you his name was Maverick. You were the one that took it there." As Lana secured her horse, Tyson turned to Clark. "You sure you don't want to come? We could convince your folks to let you off chore duty for an hour."
Clark shook his head, already moving back towards the truck. "Nah, I really do need to get this done. But thanks for the offer."
"Suit yourself," Tyson shrugged.
Lana rejoined them, brushing hay from her riding pants. "Ready to go?"
"Lead the way," Tyson replied, falling into step beside her as they headed towards the driveway.
Nell's flower shop had a quaint storefront with cheerful window displays and hanging baskets. But today, something was different, and Lana noticed immediately. She stopped short. "What? No, this can't be right."
A "For Sale" sign hung in the window.
Without waiting for Tyson, she pushed open the door, the familiar jingle of the bell announcing her entrance. He followed close behind, enveloped by the sweet scent of flowers as he stepped inside. Nell looked up from behind the counter, but her smile faltered as she saw her niece's expression.
"Lana, sweetie, what's wrong?"
"Why didn't you tell me you were selling the shop?"
Nell sighed, setting down the ledger she'd been working on. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I only made the decision this morning."
"And when were you planning on telling me this?" Lana demanded, her hands clenched at her sides.
"Lana, I don't understand why you're so upset. You've never shown interest in this store before. But now I'm supposed to consult you."
Lana's eyes darted to the back of the shop, where a door led to the adjoining movie theater. A terrible thought struck her. "Are you selling the movie theater as well?"
"Yes, Lana. It's part of the building," Nell replied.
"You know how much it means to me," Lana said.
Nell moved out from behind the counter, touching Lana's arm. "Lana, if I had made business decisions based on sentiment, I would have gone bust long ago. Besides, the movie theater has been closed for months now. I'll sell the building and relocate to a smaller store."
Lana shook her head, growing more upset. Tears were beginning to well up in her eyes. "There has to be another way."
"Look, I'm just thinking of our future."
Tyson, standing awkwardly by the door, cleared his throat. Both women turned, having forgotten he was there. "Um, sorry to interrupt," he said, stepping forward. "I couldn't help overhearing. How exactly is this building zoned?"
Nell blinked, surprised by the question. "It's zoned as commercial, but there's a residential apartment above the theater. Why do you ask?"
"I happen to be in the market for a place to live. This is a nice location right on Main Street and is close to the high school. It's everything I could want."
Lana asked skeptically, "Do you have that kind of money?"
"It costs over two grand to stay in the hotel for a month. I'd probably be saving money moving here."
Nell's eyebrows shot up. "I forgot that you've been staying at the hotel since you got to Smallville."
"I've been looking for a more permanent solution, but nothing felt right until now."
Lana's eyes darted between Tyson and Nell. "Maybe this could work. If Tyson rented the apartment, it could help cover some of the costs, right?"
Nell pursed her lips, considering. "It's not just about covering costs, Lana. The shop itself isn't turning a profit. Times are changing, and people aren't buying flowers like they used to."
"What if we could change that?" Lana asked, "We could modernize the shop, maybe add an online ordering system. And the theater... we could renovate it, turn it into a multi-purpose space. Host events, show classic movies on weekends."
Nell looked skeptical. "That all sounds nice in theory, but it would take a significant investment. And there's no guarantee it would pay off."
"What if I purchased the property and rented your shop back to you?" Tyson offered. "We could set the rent at an affordable cost. Maybe comparable to a smaller shop, so you wouldn't have to move, interrupt your business or life."
Lana and Nell both turned to stare at him. "Tyson, that's... incredibly generous," Lana said slowly. "But are you sure? That's a lot of money to spend on a business you have no stake in… And how do you have that kind of money?"
Tyson shrugged, trying to downplay the offer. "I'm from New York, remember? Things are much more expensive there. I've got some inheritance... And, like I said, I need a place to live anyway. This way, I get a cool apartment. And I get to be part of something in the community. It's a win-win. If you're that enthusiastic about renovating the theater, maybe I could hire you as an employee… Unless you're planning on continuing your career as a barista."
Nell sighed, looking between the two eager faces before her. "Alright," she said finally.
Lana's face lit up. She threw her arms around her aunt. "Thank you, Aunt Nell. You won't regret this, I promise."
As Lana and Nell embraced, Tyson wandered the shop, admiring the colorful flower displays and quaint decor. When Lana pulled away from Nell, she turned to Tyson, her eyes shining with gratitude. "Tyson, I don't know how to thank you. This means so much to me."
"Hey, it's no big deal. That's what friends are for, right?"
Nell cleared her throat. "Well, now that we've settled that for the moment, wasn't there something you two came in here for originally?"
"Oh!" Lana exclaimed, suddenly remembering. "Tyson needs a corsage for his date with Kara."
"Ah, yes," Nell said, her businesswoman persona sliding back into place. "Let's see what we can do about that, shall we?"
Tyson caught Lana's eye as Nell led them toward the cooler filled with corsages. She mouthed a silent thank you, and he nodded in response.
— Meteor Freak —
The sun was hanging low in the sky as Clark Kent approached Cyrus's property after finishing his chores on the farm. He noticed a peculiar sight; wires snaked through the grass leading up to an old barn. Clark followed the trail with his eyes, wondering what purpose they served. Reaching the barn, he peered through the window, expecting to see some elaborate setup. To his surprise, the interior appeared empty and unremarkable. He furrowed his brow, puzzled by the lack of activity inside.
He was suddenly startled as he turned to find Cyrus behind him. The boy stood there, hood down, his ever-present headphones covering his ears. His eyes narrowed suspiciously at Clark's presence. He removed his headphones and asked, "What are you doing here, Clark?"
Clark shifted his weight, trying to appear casual. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."
Cyrus's expression remained guarded. "I was suspended. But high school is irrelevant. It just gives me more time to concentrate on my work."
"Uh, where are your parents?" Clark asked, glancing around the seemingly deserted property.
"Foster parents," Cyrus corrected. "They work late. They don't bother me as long as they get their monthly check. Is this interrogation over?" Without waiting for a response, Cyrus moved to unlock the barn door. As he began to enter, he paused, turning back to Clark with a knowing look.
"You've come to see if the rumors are true. Everyone in my last school thought I was an alien," Cyrus said, more than asked.
Clark hesitated before responding. "I have an open mind."
"If I showed you any of my other special powers, would that appease you?" His voice dripped with sarcasm. "Go away, Clark."
As Cyrus attempted to close the door, Clark's hand shot out, holding it open.
"You're just like all the others," Cyrus spat. "I won't be ridiculed by your kind anymore."
Clark's expression softened. He spoke gently as he replied, "I'm not here to make fun of you or to get you in trouble."
Cyrus paused, studying Clark's face for any sign of deception. "Then what do you want?"
"The truth," Clark said. "I promise I won't tell anyone."
Cyrus's shoulders relaxed slightly, and he stepped back, allowing Clark to enter the barn. The interior had been transformed into a makeshift laboratory, with strange devices and equipment lining the walls. Cyrus led Clark to a large screen displaying a picture of outer space.
"I input these coordinates into my transmitter," Cyrus explained, pointing to a series of numbers on the screen. "Send a signal to my planet."
Clark's brow furrowed. "How do you know the coordinates are correct?"
Cyrus's eyes took on a distant look. "I used to have these weird dreams. That's when they were given to me. Afterward, I'd wake up in these strange places and frighten my old foster parents. And they had me locked away eventually." His voice hardened. "I can't imagine any other race being as barbaric as humans."
"Why? What'd they do to you?" Clark asked, concern evident in his voice.
"They tried to make me believe I was crazy, that I was one of you."
"I want to believe you. What kind of proof do you have?"
Cyrus's expression fell, a hint of sadness creeping into his eyes. "Whatever proof I had was destroyed the day of the meteor shower. That's when I arrived on earth. An elderly couple found me on the outskirts of town and raised me. After they died, I bounced around between foster parents, but... I kept trying to get back here."
"Why?" Clark pressed.
"Smallville is ground zero for the signal. I have to be here so my real parents can take me home."
As Cyrus spoke, Clark felt a strange connection to the boy's story. The mention of the meteor shower arriving on Earth and being found by a family struck a chord deep within him. He pushed his thoughts aside, focusing on Cyrus's words.
"So, you believe your real parents are out there, searching for you?" Clark asked, his voice soft and free of judgment.
Cyrus nodded emphatically. "I know they are. They wouldn't abandon me. Something must have gone wrong during my journey here. But they'll find me. I just need to keep sending the signal."
Clark's gaze swept over the equipment surrounding them. "And all of this... it's to help you communicate with them?"
"Yes, I've been working on improving the signal strength. Each day, I get closer to breaking through."
Clark watched as Cyrus moved around the lab, adjusting dials and checking readings on various screens. "Have you ever received any response?"
Cyrus's hands stilled for a moment. "Not yet. But I will. I have to believe that. It's the only thing that keeps me going sometimes."
The vulnerability in Cyrus's voice struck Clark. He recognized the loneliness, the feeling of being different, of not belonging. It was a sensation he knew all too well. "I can't imagine how difficult this has been for you. But... have you considered the possibility that-"
"That I'm wrong?" Cyrus interrupted sharply. "That I'm just a confused, delusional human? No, Clark. I know who I am. I know where I come from. And I won't let anyone convince me otherwise."
Clark raised his hands in a gesture of peace. "I'm not trying to convince you of anything. I just want to understand."
"Then understand this. I don't belong here. Earth isn't my home. And until I find a way back to my real family, I'll never truly fit in."
As the sun was setting, Clark Kent returned to the farm. His thoughts were heavy on Cyrus and his claims of extraterrestrial origin. As he approached the barn, he noticed his father already outside, looking concerned.
"Clark," Jonathan Kent called out.
"Dad, what's going on?"
Jonathan's eyes darted towards the paddock. "I don't know, son. We got Lana's horse out of the trailer just fine, and then Lana was walking him in the paddock, and he collapsed. She's pretty upset. Why don't you stay with her? I'll call the vet."
Without waiting for a response, Jonathan jogged towards the house. Clark knew how much the horse meant to her. He made his way to the paddock, pushing open the gate with a creak. The sight that greeted him was heart-wrenching. The horse lay on his side; Lana sat beside him, her small frame hunched over the horse's neck. Her fingers gently stroked his mane.
Clark knelt down next to Lana. He tried to keep his voice light, hoping to offer some comfort. "Not feeling too good?"
Lana looked up at him, her green eyes filled with worry. "I've seen him sick before, but never this bad."
"There's help on the way," Clark assured her, wishing he could do more.
As if sensing their concern, the horse let out a soft whinny.
"I can't lose him, too."
Clark's heart ached at the pain in her voice. He knew she was thinking of her parents and all the losses she had already endured. He reached out, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. "He's gonna be fine, Lana," Clark said confidently. "He's a fighter. Just like his owner."
The moment was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. Cyrus appeared at the edge of the paddock and noticed the horse's distress. "What's wrong with him?"
Clark explained, "We don't know. The vet's on the way."
Cyrus moved to Lana's side, kneeling down next to the horse's head. He removed his hood, revealing his tousled hair, and leaned down, pressing his ear against the horse's side. After a moment, he sat back up.
"It's okay," Cyrus said gently, "You don't need all these people poking and prodding you, boy. I'll make it better."
Clark watched in astonishment as Cyrus placed his hands on Tyson's side. A soft light emanated beneath his palms, casting a warm glow across the paddock. Lana's eyes widened in disbelief, her eyes darted between Cyrus and Clark, seeking an explanation that Clark couldn't provide.
Cyrus closed his eyes, and the light intensified. Lana held her breath, her hand instinctively reaching out to grasp Clark's arm. Seconds stretched into minutes as they watched Cyrus work his inexplicable magic. Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the light faded away. Cyrus opened his eyes, looking drained but satisfied.
The horse let out a loud, healthy whinny, his legs scrambling beneath him as he struggled to his feet. Lana's face lit up with joy and relief as her earlier worry melted away.
"Hey. Hey," she cooed affectionately, steadying him as he found his footing.
Clark tried to process what he had just witnessed. He looked at Cyrus, searching for any sign that might explain the miraculous healing. But Cyrus's face only showed exhaustion and quiet pride.
Lana's attention was fully on the horse now, her hands running along his flank, checking for any lingering signs of distress. The horse seemed completely recovered as he nuzzled Lana's shoulder.
Questions burned in Clark's mind, but he held them back, not wanting to ruin the moment.
— Meteor Freak —
The kitchen in the Melville household buzzed with the whir of a blender. Jody stood at the counter, gripping the appliance as it pulverized a mixture of vegetables. Mr. Melville appeared in the doorway. His eyes widened as he saw his daughter's once-round face now thin, angular, and sharp.
"Jody, are you feeling okay? You look a little..." Mr. Melville's voice trailed off in concern.
Jody's hand flew to her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. "Uh, yeah, don't worry, Dad. I'm feeling great." She smiled a genuine, happy smile, something he hadn't seen on her face often. She excitedly explained, "I even got a date for the wedding."
Mr. Melville's worry melted into a proud grin. "Jody, that's terrific, but I want you to eat something other than those shake things, all right?"
"You know what? I will. I'm done counting calories."
Mr. Melville glanced at his watch, his eyebrows shooting up. "Oh, I've gotta go. I'll be out of town for a few days. Don't stay up too late. Love you, sweetie."
"Okay. Bye," Jody called out as her father hurried out of the kitchen.
The moment he was gone, Jody's hand shot out, grabbing a large glass. She poured the green liquid from the blender into the glass, filling it to the brim. Without hesitation, she lifted the glass to her lips and began to drink. The thick, viscous liquid slid down her throat as she gulped it down, not stopping until the last drop was gone.
Jody set the empty glass down with a soft clink. Her eyes darted towards the hallway, listening for any sign of her father's return. Satisfied she was alone, she went to the bathroom. Jody stepped onto the scale in the corner, watching the digital display flicker to life. The numbers settled on 137, and Jody's lips pressed into a thin line. But then, before her eyes, the numbers began to decrease. 136... 135... 134... Excitement bubbled up as her eyes remained fixed on the scale as the numbers continued their descent. 120... 115... 112.
She had done it. She had finally achieved the weight she had dreamed of for so long.
But the moment of elation was short-lived.
A sudden, overwhelming hunger gripped her, unlike anything she had ever experienced. Jody's tongue darted out, licking her lips as her mind filled with thoughts of food. Without conscious thought, her feet carried her back to the kitchen, drawn by an irresistible urge to eat. She threw open the refrigerator door with a whoosh. Her hands reached out, grabbing anything and everything within reach. Leftover casserole, half a rotisserie chicken, a carton of milk, it didn't matter. She stuffed food into her mouth frantically, barely chewing before swallowing.
Jody moved from the refrigerator to the pantry and back again. Food containers littered the floor. She paid no attention to the mess, solely focusing on satisfying the hunger that threatened to consume her. She tore into a bag of chips, shoving handfuls into her mouth. A jar of peanut butter was next; Jody scooped out globs and licked them clean off her fingers. The frenzied eating continued until finally, exhausted and overwhelmed, Jody collapsed to the floor. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, surrounded by the aftermath of her binge. The kitchen looked as if a tornado had torn through it.
Still, her stomach rumbled. Another painful gurgle echoed through her entire body. The hunger, impossibly, was still there, gnawing at her insides despite everything she had consumed.
With a sudden burst of energy, Jody leaped to her feet. Her eyes, wild and unfocused, landed on the blender on the counter. The remnants of her green concoction clung to its insides. In a fit of rage, Jody grabbed the blender. With a scream, she hurled it against the wall. The plastic shattered on impact, sending shards and droplets of green liquid flying across the room.
She stood in the center of the devastated kitchen, her chest heaving as she panted. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her hands shook at her sides. The realization of what she had done and what was happening to her began to sink in.
— Meteor Freak —
Jody stood in front of her bedroom mirror, admiring her slender figure in a sleeveless red dress. The fabric hugged her body, accentuating her curves; the new, good kind of curves. She ran her hands down her sides, still in awe of the drastic change. Despite how hungry she felt, seeing herself looking this good made her feel like it might be worth it.
"Perfect," she whispered to herself.
The sudden chime of the doorbell startled Jody. She was not expecting any visitors. Her father was out of town, leaving her alone in the house. As she opened the front door, her eyes widened in surprise. Pete Ross stood on her porch, his hands shoved in his pockets and a friendly grin on his face.
"Whoa. Hi," Pete said, his eyes widening as he took in Jody's appearance.
"Hi," Jody replied, suddenly self-conscious under his gaze.
Pete shifted his weight, looking a bit nervous. "Thought I'd stop by and see if you wanted to hang out, maybe grab a dessert from the Beanery."
Jody considered for a moment, then nodded. She turned off the lights and stepped onto the porch, shutting the door behind her. As they walked towards Pete's car, Jody linked her arm through his.
"Dessert sounds good," she said, feeling a familiar gnawing in her stomach. "I'm starving."
Pete glanced at her, his eyes traveling over her dress. "So this dress. Wow. It looks great on you."
A faint blush colored Jody's cheeks. "Thanks. It was my mom's."
As they approached the car, Pete fished his keys out of his pocket. Suddenly, a loud rumble emanated from Jody's stomach. She froze, her arm slipping away from Pete's as a wave of panic washed over her.
Pete looked at her, concerned. "Something wrong?"
Jody forced a smile, trying to appear nonchalant. "I'm fine. I just need to eat."
Pete's suspicions rose to match his concern. There was another rumble, louder this time. She wrapped her arms around her midsection as if trying to muffle the sound. "That doesn't sound right," he said, "Maybe we should go to the hospital."
As Pete tried to guide her towards the car, Jody jerked away in panic. She took a step back, then another, distancing herself from Pete.
"You've always been good to me, Pete," Jody said. She turned abruptly. Moving back towards the house, she called over her shoulder, "Please, go away now!"
"Jody!" Pete worredly shouted.
She reached her front door, fumbling with the handle. Yelling, "Go away!" as she desperately flung the door open and rushed inside, slamming it shut behind her.
"Jody, wait!" Pete's muffled voice came through the door.
She squeezed her eyes shut, willing Pete to leave. The gnawing in her stomach intensified, a hunger unlike anything she'd ever experienced clawing at her insides. Outside, Pete stood on the porch, his hand raised as if to knock. He hesitated, torn between respecting Jody's wishes and his growing concern for her well-being. The abrupt change in her behavior left him bewildered and uneasy. Inside, Jody slid down the door, hugging her knees to her chest, trying to ignore the painful emptiness in her stomach.
"Go away, Pete," she whispered, more to herself than to him. "Please, just go away."
The hunger pangs intensified. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, not wanting Pete to hear her distress. The drastic weight loss seemed too good to be true. And now, with the constant hunger, it was exactly as she feared.
Outside, Pete paced back and forth on the porch, debating his next move. He pulled out his cell phone, considering calling for help. But who would he call? And what would he say? That Jody's stomach was rumbling too loudly? He shook his head, feeling foolish.
Jody's ears strained to hear any movement outside. Part of her hoped Pete had left, while another part longed for him to break down the door and rescue her from whatever was happening. The conflicting emotions only added to her distress. Driven by an overwhelming need to eat, she forced herself to stand and stumbled towards the kitchen. She yanked open the refrigerator door.
There wasn't much left.
Jody grabbed a carton of leftover Chinese food. She didn't bother with utensils, simply upending the carton and shoveling the cold noodles into her mouth with her hands. As she ate, Jody caught her reflection in the microwave door. Her face was smeared with sauce, her eyes wild with desperation. She barely recognized herself. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision.
Outside, Pete finally made a decision. He couldn't leave Jody like this, not when she was clearly in distress. He raised his hand to knock on the door once more.
"Jody?" he called out, his voice filled with concern. "I'm not leaving until I know you're okay. Please, talk to me."
Inside, Jody froze, a handful of noodles halfway to her mouth. She wanted to answer, but the words stuck in her throat. How could she explain this? How could she explain what she'd become?
Pete's phone rang in his hand, startling him out of his worried thoughts. Glancing at the screen, he answered quickly.
"Hey, Tyson," Pete said.
Tyson's cheerful voice came through the speaker. "Hey man, you still coming to the Beanery? Chloe's already here, and if you don't show up, I think she's going to start thinking I set her up on a date."
In the background, Pete heard a playful slap followed by Chloe's indignant voice. "I will not!"
Tyson chuckled. "She's all starstruck because I saved her from the fire. I'm her hero, you know" Pete heard another slap.
He sighed. "I stopped by Jody's. She's sick or something. But she won't let me help her."
There was a brief pause on the other end. Pete heard Tyson relay the information to Chloe. "That's not far," Chloe's voice chimed in. "She lives in town. Just a half mile down the road that way."
"I'm not leaving till I check on her," Pete insisted, his eyes fixed on Jody's front door.
"I'll run over if you need some help," Tyson offered before hanging up.
"Thanks," Pete muttered to the empty air, pocketing his phone.
He took a deep breath, steeling himself. "Jody," he called out. "Jody, come on!" When there was no response, he tried again, louder this time. "Jody!"
Pete's hand hesitated on the doorknob for a moment before he turned it, pushing the door open. He stepped inside, his eyes scanning the darkened interior.
"Jody?" he called out, his voice softer now, tinged with concern. "Jody, where are you?"
Pete started walking up the stairs. Suddenly, a cry from below stopped him in his tracks.
"Pete, please get away!" Jody's voice, thick with tears, called out from the kitchen. Pete headed back downstairs in the direction of her voice. His heart raced, worry gnawing at his insides. "It's all my fault," Jody sobbed, her voice muffled and distant.
"Jody?" Pete called out again, moving cautiously through the house.
"I just wanted to be skinny," Jody's anguished voice continued. "There's only so much a person can take."
"Pete, please, go home," Jody pleaded, her voice closer now.
"Come on, Jody. You don't have to hide."
"I don't want to hurt you," Jody's voice broke as she whispered.
Pete rounded the corner into the kitchen. "Come on, Jody, you couldn't hurt a..."
His words trailed off as he found her sitting on the kitchen floor, crying in a corner. The sight of her, curled up and vulnerable, made his heart ache.
"Just tell me what's happening," Pete said softly, taking a step towards her.
She tried not to look at him. "Please..." she said harshly, "Leave."
But Pete didn't step away, and Jody couldn't stop herself from lunging at him. She moved with a speed that caught him completely off guard. Her body slammed into his, knocking him to the floor with a force that drove the air from his lungs.
Pete's head cracked against the tile, and stars exploded behind his eyes. He tried to speak, to call out, but his voice wouldn't work. The world spun around him, fading at the edges. As consciousness slipped away, Pete saw Jody's face, once so familiar and friendly, now looked alien and terrifying. as her mouth opened wide. Impossibly wide.
Tyson approached the Melville house. He paused, eyeing the open front door with suspicion. He'd come because he'd seen Jody's green aura earlier. Like him and the others, that meant she was a Meteor Freak. Pete saying she was acting strangely was a red flag, and he knew he couldn't let Pete walk into a situation where he'd be facing off with someone like Jeremy Creek or the others without backup.
"Pete? Jody?" He shouted. "I don't know what kind of suburban life, leaving your door unlocked and wide open stuff you've got going on here... But that's real risky where I come from." He hesitated on the threshold, muttering under his breath, "Real risky for me, that is, to come into someone's house uninvited."
Tyson stepped inside. The house was eerily quiet, save for a faint rustling sound coming from the kitchen. He moved cautiously through the living room, mumbling to himself. "Bad boys, bad boys, what you gonna do? What you gonna do when Smallville PD comes for you."
"Pete? Jody?" he called again, louder this time. "Everything okay?"
As Tyson walked through the kitchen entryway, his eyes widened at the scene before him. Pete lay sprawled on the floor, unconscious. Jody crouched over him, her face contorted in a grotesque mask of hunger. But the contortion was literal. It was like her jaw had unhinged and lengthened impossibly.
At the sound of Tyson's voice, she whipped her head around, her eyes wild and unfocused.
For a moment, they stared at each other, frozen in shock. Then, as if snapping out of a trance, Jody scrambled to her feet. She darted past Tyson, shoving him roughly against the doorframe as she fled.
"Jody, wait!" Tyson called after her, but she was already gone, the sound of her footsteps fading as she ran out of the house.
Tyson rushed to Pete's side. He gently shook Pete's shoulder and checked his vitals.
"Pete, are you okay?" Tyson asked, shaking him. When Pete didn't respond, Tyson muttered, "What the hell was that? Sick, he says? What the hell is she sick with?"
He checked Pete's pulse, relieved to find it steady and strong. A quick examination revealed no visible injuries beyond a small bump on the back of his head. As he looked around the kitchen, Tyson took in its state. The place was a mess. Discarded food containers littered the floor and countertops. Half-eaten fruits, vegetables, and what looked like raw meat were strewn about haphazardly. It was as if a wild animal had ransacked the refrigerator and pantry.
"What the hell happened here?" he whispered.
He stood up and glanced towards the kitchen door, through which Jody had disappeared. Tyson was torn between staying with Pete and going after her. His vitals seemed fine, and Tyson knew he needed answers. With a last glance at his unconscious friend, he made his decision.
Stepping outside, Tyson looked around, trying to guess which direction Jody might have gone. His eyes fell on a large detached greenhouse.
He muttered, "If I didn't have superpowers, I wouldn't follow the horror movie monster into her lair. Everyone knows the black guy always dies first." He paused momentarily, then continued mumbling, "If I weren't here, Pete would be toast."
"Jody!" Tyson called out as he jogged towards the structure. "You out here? Pete said you were sick. He's kinda hurt. Are you okay? It looked like you might have dislocated your jaw or something."
The door stood slightly ajar, and he pushed it open, wincing at the loud creak of its hinges. Inside, the air was thick and humid. Rows of plants stretched out before him. But what caught Tyson's attention was the soil. Scattered throughout the planting beds were chunks of glowing green rock.
Kryptonite.
Tyson palmed one of the meteor rocks and moved deeper into the greenhouse, his eyes darting from plant to plant, searching for any sign of Jody.
"Come on, talk to me. What's going on?" A rustling sound behind him made Tyson spin around.
Then, the world tilted sideways as he stumbled from a massive force hitting the side of his head. He caught a glimpse of Jody wielding a shovel like a weapon.
Tyson fell to the ground but managed to keep hold of his meteor rock.
Jody's eyes flashed with anger and desperation. "Why couldn't you just leave me alone?" she cried, her voice cracking with emotion.
To her surprise, Tyson rolled over, seemingly unharmed. But he stayed supine, facing her. He held up his hands in a placating gesture. "You're sick, Jody. Whatever you did to yourself, you can get help."
"All I wanted was to be thin!" Jody screamed.
She swung the shovel at Tyson again, but he slid backward, narrowly avoiding the blow. Undeterred, Jody raised the gardening tool for another strike. This time, Tyson caught the handle with his hand, stopping it mid-swing. Frustration etched across Jody's features as she kicked at Tyson, but her lack of fighting experience was evident. Still on the ground, Tyson easily kicked out her planted leg, sending her tumbling to the greenhouse floor beside him.
"We just met yesterday, but I get the feeling that this isn't you."
Jody's laugh was bitter and mocking. "What? Isn't this what I'm supposed to look like?"
Tyson stood up, brushing dirt from his clothes. "Not what I meant. I got the impression that you lost a lot of weight, but this is the only 'you' I've ever seen. I mean the whole attacking Pete, attacking me, shoveling." He glanced around the greenhouse. "Well, you have a greenhouse in your backyard, so maybe the shoveling is normal."
"You don't understand," Jody said. "I'm a freak now."
Tyson's eyebrows rose. "The whole jaw thing? I don't see the problem. Pete will probably like it. Not to be too presumptuous."
Jody's eyes widened in disbelief. "I almost killed him, and you're making sex jokes?"
Tyson held out a hand to her. "You were going off the deep end there. Not for nothing, you seem innocent. I figured a sex joke might pull you back, and see, I was right. We're besties now."
Jody hesitated for a moment before grabbing his hand. As Tyson helped her to her feet, she said, "I don't want to hurt anyone. I'm sorry. But if it's between you and Pete..."
Jody didn't get to finish what she was saying before Tyson sent electricity coursing through her body. Holding the Kryptonite in his other hand, Tyson shocked Jody still. He joked, "You should probably not warn someone right before you're about to turn on them. I enjoy a good villainous monologue as much as the next guy, but I won't stand by and be on the receiving end of one... Unless it's really riveting."
He concentrated and could feel the power within Jody. It felt dark, hungry, and wrong. He sent more electricity coursing through her body and pulled, ripping the power out of her.
As soon as it entered him, Tyson felt the hunger. It was a gnawing, deep emptiness.
He said, "Nope, hell no." He raised his hand and sent it through the meteor rock. The electricity shot through the kryptonite and connected to the greenhouse's metal frame. Jody's sick power shot out along with it. Bolts of electric blue energy arced from Tyson's hand, using the Kryptonite as a conduit. The green rock glowed intensely, and the greenhouse's metal frame lit up like a Christmas tree as it conducted the electricity. Glass panes shattered, raining shards down.
Jody collapsed to the ground, her body twitching as the last vestiges of her unnatural power were torn from her. The distorted shape of her jaw slowly receded as the bones and muscles realigned themselves into their proper configuration.
The hunger that had briefly invaded Tyson's being was being expelled, but it fought against him every step of the way. He could feel it clawing at his insides, desperate to remain, to consume him as it had nearly consumed Jody. The greenhouse's metal frame began to warp and twist under the electricity. Supports groaned and buckled, and sections of the roof caved in, allowing the night sky to peek through.
The electrical storm ceased as suddenly as it had begun. The greenhouse fell silent, save for the tinkling of falling glass and the groaning of stressed metal. Tyson looked around at the devastation. The once-lush greenhouse now resembled a war zone. Twisted metal, shattered glass, and the charred remains of plants littered the ground.
He turned his attention to Jody, who lay motionless a few feet away. "Jody?" he called out, his voice hoarse. "You okay?"
Jody stirred, groaning as she rolled onto her side. She blinked, her eyes focusing on Tyson. "What... what happened?" she asked, her voice weak and confused.
"I think I just cured you of your extreme diet plan," he said, attempting to inject some humor into the situation. "How do you feel?"
Jody sat up slowly, wincing as she moved. She looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers as if seeing them for the first time. "I feel... normal," she said, surprise evident in her voice. "The hunger... it's gone."
Tyson nodded, relief washing over him. "Good. That's good."
"Oh my God," she whispered. "The greenhouse... my dad's going to kill me."
"Yeah, about that," Tyson said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I may have gone a little overboard with the whole 'exorcising your demon diet' thing. But hey, look on the bright side. At least you're not trying to eat people anymore."
Jody shot him a look that was equal parts gratitude and exasperation. "I guess I should thank you," she said. "Even if you did destroy my dad's life's work in the process."
Tyson stood up, offering his hand to Jody. "Come on," he said. "Let's get out of here before the roof comes down on us completely. We need to check on Pete, and then we can figure out how to explain all this to your dad."
As Jody took his hand and got to her feet, a low rumble echoed through the greenhouse. They looked up to see a large section of the roof swaying precariously.
"Time to go," Tyson said, tugging Jody towards the door.
They stumbled out of the greenhouse just as the roof collapsed behind them, sending up a cloud of dust and debris. They stood there for a moment, catching their breath and staring at the wreckage.
"So," Tyson said, breaking the silence. "Any chance your dad's looking to renovate? I've been investing in local businesses. You guys just grow vegetables, or do you do flowers, too?"