[A/N: I'm really excited 'cause I finally got around to registering and this is my first fic!! I already have the first four chapters, but I want feedback first things first. This is so cool!!!

Right. Anyway, I got the plot idea from something I read about cannon, that said Pete Ross actually knew Clark's secret in Smallivlle, just never told him. I thought that sounded cool.

Please review!!! Begging on my hands and knees here!!!!!!!!]

Secrets of Secrets

1. Discovered

:Clip clop: clicks sneaker soles that lead to a new discovery.

Pete Ross was grinning broadly. He usually was, but this time it was because he has finished his article for "The Torch" and scored a date with The Jenny Baskins. Wow. Women do dig me, he thought.

As he rounded the corner to the football stadium, he wondered which he should tell Clark first. His best friend had been hanging around waiting for him after he finished his own article. Pete wondered how Clark could be playing football with himself, and was planning on watching him silently to get some material for the snarking that would soon inevitably ensue on Clark's behalf. Poor, clumsy Clarkie, always the butt of his friends' jokes.

All of a sudden, Pete went numb. He saw the grass, then felt his feet stop and his jaw drop. He blinked a couple of times, but his vocal chords were shot. Regular old Clark was there, standing in the field, but then he reared his arm back and tossed the football. It flew over the first field goal, then the second, then traveled another field's worth. A blinding grin crossed Kent's face, and then he was gone. Pete struggled to follow the blue and red blur across the field, which soon reformed as Clark, who neatly caught the speeding ball in one hand. He then repeated the entire sequence: the impossible throw, the blurry run, the perfect catch. Pete's sights were confirmed. He wondered if those sneaky lunch ladies didn't put some of their brandy in his milk today.

Pete turned and ran as fast as he could out of the stadium, and away from Clark. He reached the truck, fumbled with his keys, hopped in, and sped away. Clark emerged just in time to see the vehicle barreling out of the parking lot.

"Pete!" he called. He recognized his friend's truck. "Aren't you forgetting something?" Another extremely white smile.

Pete stepped on the brake and thought. He was freaked out by his friend, he really was. But even if Clark was a completely different person than he had thought, his friend was his friend, and he still had feelings. I think. Pete backed up and popped open the cab's passenger door.

Clark climbed in hesitantly and buckled his seatbelt. Pete blushed at the fact that he was unstrapped. His friend was always such a straight arrow.

The boys rode home in silence. Pete was usually the chatterbox, mostly because he picked on Clark. But now they did not speak. Clark contemplated what was wrong. Pete didn't finish his article? The date with Jenny Baskins wasn't happening? As usual, Clark speculated how, somehow, it could be his fault. The thought that maybe, just maybe, Pete had seen him playing football flashed through his mind. His father's words blared in his head: You don't have to stop using your gifts completely, although a little caution would be appreciated. Did Pete know? He shook off the thought; it had come often before and was never confirmed as the truth. Plus, Pete would have said something by now.

On the other side of the truck, Pete was dying to bring up what he had just seen Clark do. He wondered why his usually perceptive friend hadn't yet noticed him bursting at the seams. Oh, he hoped Clark wasn't psychic as well!

It all made sense now. The many lives Clark had saved. The villains he had somehow held off and/or destroyed. How he always made it to school before the bus when he missed it. How he beat up that kid in first grade. It had something to do with these abilities. But where did they come from? Were his parents like him? Of course not, Pete confirmed, Clark's adopted. But did they know anything at all?

He also wondered if he should tell Clark that he knows. Would Clark and his family treat their friend differently if they shared this secret? They obviously didn't want anyone else to know. Pete could logically foresee the consequences: lab coats and charts. Not a great image when it involves your best friend.

It was the meteor rocks. Had to be. It was the explanation for Tina Greer, Greg Arkin, Jodie Melville, and Shawn Kelvin, and Clark had been exposed to all of them. Why couldn't that be the logical explanation for his friend?

The black boy snickered suddenly. And to think I once said that if he were any slower he'd be extinct. He's probably faster than the fucking speed of sound! Clark glanced over at the random noise from the other side of the car. "Penny for your thoughts?" he ventured.

"Oh, nothing. I, um, got that date with Jenny and I was, well, thinking about the look on that jock's face when I'm with his girl and, er, yeah. Funny, huh?" The words stumbled quickly out of Pete's mouth.

Clark raised an eyebrow. "If you say so." Then back into silence.

As the two pull up to the Kent Farm, Pete lets Clark out at the end of the long driveway. Clark shrugs and exits, politely thanking Pete for the ride. The driver starts to leave, but keeps and eye on his friend in the rearview mirror. Clark looks around suspiciously, and suddenly becomes a blur again as he speeds toward the yellow house. Pete smiles to himself, and drives off.