I have very little time, so this is going to be short.
I love your way of writing first person Lois. I adored your description of the schoolboys who had had a crush on her - well, really it had only been Brad who had had a crush on her, because Michael had only regarded her as a fall-back girl. (Snort!) But Michael's girl, Brinna, came back to him, because she couldn't stand seeing Micahel with Lois! That's so funny!
Granola, eh? I love how you so often use a distinctive kind of food in your fics to, literally, 'flavor' them. I had to look granola up, by the way. I think I would have preferred Michael's cupcakes.
And then poor Scott, who just tried to be friendly, but the poor guy was from Iowa! Surely he couldn't expect Lois to take an interest in him when he was from Iowa, right?
By the way, statistics. At the school where I teach a lot of the students hate math, but they really like statistics. That's because during the statistics course they are allowed to ask the other students in their class about something they want to know, and then they use statistics to present the answers, and to judge how reliable their results are, and what the uncertainty is. They ask each other if they smoke, if they'd rather have a dog or a cat or no pets at all, if they believe in love at first sight and so on, and they really have a whale of a time!
To return to the main theme of your story, I thought it was so much fun that there had been two farm boys before Clark who had had absolute crushes on Lois, and it was so much fun that Lois rejected them pretty much out of hand because they were farm boys! No wonder Lois told Clark not to fall for her, because she didn't have time for it! I just talked about dogs here, and haven't you noticed that there are dogs who know when you don't like them, and they just won't leave you in peace, as if they had to convince you that they are really, honestly very nice?
The ending was very nice, too. Surely you can't help loving a man who helps you laugh at yourself, right? Even if he is a farmboy. (And of, course, if he has dancing brown eyes and all the rest...)
That's a very sweet story, Nancy!
Ann
