<center>An Enigmatic Stranger</center>
By: Ericka
Rating: ADULT with some MATURE scenes
Summary: Liz's life is changed by a mysterious man, but she doesn't know him and believes that she will never know him despite the changes he evokes within her.
Disclaimer: I don't own Roswell. Don't sue, after all, I'm a poor student saving up for college.
<center>Chapter 1</center>
If you told me five years ago if I would’ve been a single mother today, I would’ve told you you’re crazy. I would’ve said that I was still a virgin and I had my priorities straight, with no intention of losing control of my life.
I wanted to start my career and then build a family. My main priority was getting in to Harvard. Harvard was my ticket to a new world filled with infinite possibilities. I was going to become head of the molecular biology department and then teach other young hopefuls all about the subject, hopefully instilling in them the awe I felt.
So I guess you’re wondering if I made it or not, huh?
I’m Liz Parker and this is my story.
5 years ago…
“Michael, I got in!” I scream to my best friend Michael Guerin. We met in kindergarten. It was recess time and we collided into each other on the monkey bars. Needless to say we both fell to the ground. We weren’t injured, thankfully the monkey bars were pretty low, but that doesn’t mean we didn’t call attention to ourselves. Once we’d assured everyone we were ok, it was the beginning of a new friendship.
Turning my attention back to the moment I stare at Michael, my eyes wide with wonder. “Michael, did you get in? Open it!” I shout, anxiously waiting. He stands there, staring at the envelope in his hands. His facial expression says it all. He’s contemplating whether he should open it at all.
If he’s accepted or rejected, either way he’s going to be disappointed. See, Michael sent in an application to a secluded, exclusive art school in Los Angeles, California. If he gets in, we’re both losing our best friend. Of course we’ll make attempts to see each other, but sooner or later one of us is bound to get lazy and our friendship will go caput.
On the other hand, if he’s rejected, it will be even worse. This was his top choice college and he’d be crushed if he didn’t get in.
“Open it for me,” Michael says, handing me the envelope uneasily.
As I grasp the thin paper, my trembling hands opening it carefully. I lift out the letter, letting the envelope slip to the floor.
“You got in!” I shriek, oozing with happiness. “This calls for a celebration.” By now I’m jumping up and down excitedly.
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch,” Michael says, obviously trying to calm me down. “The Alienation?” he asks, one eyebrow arched up.
I bet you’re wondering what ‘The Alienation’ is. It’s Roswell’s exclusive dance club intended for adults between the ages of 18 and 26. There are a few people ranging down to 16 or even up to 28 hanging out there. Michael and I were one of those 16 year olds a couple years ago, compliments of fake ID’s. Now we’re 18 and what need is there for fake ID’s?
“You read my mind. So, meet me here in an hour?”
Michael nods his head as he retreats through the double doors of the Crashdown. The Crashdown, my parents’ alien themed restaurant. There are so many memories in this restaurant. Mainly of the friendship Michael and I share. Seeing as how I am the daughter of the owners, it’s inevitable that I would work here. Of course that meant Michael was an employee too.
I remember freshman year when my parents made me wear the official waitress uniform. You would not believe how many times Michael teased me because of it. Only he would do such a thing. Then, he’d have to punch every guy that so much as whistled at me.
Believe me, once he got into a uniform, I made sure he got his share of teasing. Sophomore year he became the assistant cook, following in old Jose’s steps. Dad made him wear sunglasses in the shape of alien eyes. At the time he’d said they were ‘hip’ and ‘the latest trend.’ Yeah dad, keep telling yourself that. Seems to be the only people who ever thought they were ‘the latest trend’ were the tourists.
An hour later, I find myself trying to decide which shirt to wear. Red or blue? I hold the shirts, each on a hanger, flipping them back and forth in front of me.
“The red one,” Michael says, slipping through my small bedroom window. Without another word, I retreat to the bathroom. Slipping on the red halter-top, I glance at my reflection, deciding to leave my face completely natural, except for a small amount of lip-gloss.
Stepping out of the bathroom, I notice Michael lightly tapping his foot. “Took you long enough. Ready?” One thing about Michael: he’s always straightforward and hates small talk. If he’s got something to say, then he’ll say it, no beating around the bush.
Flash forward to The Alienation. The club is bouncing with some dope alternative rock beats from a local band, The Whits. I remember when Michael was dating their lead singer our sophomore year. Of course, the relationship was volatile; nothing but fights and the girl, Maria, crying. Personally, I think Maria is perfect for Michael. Her spunky attitude compliments his sarcastic and rude attitude, although he’ll never admit it. Maria just happens to also my co-worker at The Crashdown. She helps out with waitressing, and believe me, I get my fill of their bickering. However ‘perfect’ they are for each other, it’s just too much to bear sometimes.
The pulsing beat is calling my name to the dance floor. Raising my arms and swaying my hips, I make my way over there. Soon, I find myself lost among all the other sweaty bodies getting down to the music, feeling my blood pulse with the beat. I lose track of how many songs I’ve been dancing to, but at this particular moment, it doesn’t matter. What does matter is the moment my life makes one giant u-turn.
I’m suddenly pulled into the arms of a strong, yet gentle man. His eyes are the deepest pools of amber I’ve seen in my entire life. His hands find their home on my hips, as he tugs me closer to his body. I comply, my hands snaking to fit around his neck.
Our lower regions continue to grind and sway, synchronizing exactly in tune with each other.
The man is beautiful and before I know it, my lips are attacking his as I push him back against the wall. By this point, I don’t know whose lips are attacking whose.
As I’m pressed up against this stranger I feel his ever-growing erection. I’ve never felt this way before. You know what I’m talking about…lust. This man brings out this primal force in me and before I know it, I’m the one who’s being pressed up against the wall.
Grabbing the guy’s hand, I silently lead him up the club stairs. Everyone knows what goes on, on the second level of The Alienation. Come on, do I need to spell it out for you? S-E-X. I’ve heard some pretty wild stories about the second level. Now, it was my turn to fully experience ‘the second level.’
I’m a virgin and I’m about to lose it. Just because I’m horny over some guy. Anyone have some self-control they’d like to donate before I turn the doorknob? No? Damn. The door is open and before closing it I slip on the ‘do not disturb’ tag. This is not like me. This is not usual behavior for me, but it’s like there’s this force driving me, controlling me. And I don’t want to stop it.
The stranger’s lips assault mine, as his body presses me up against the door, before I know it. Pulling his face closer, I continue to explore the deepest, darkest corners of his mouth.
For once I’m not thinking and reacting by impulse. My mind is a mess and my heart flutters as if it’s on cloud 9.
Attempting to draw my body as close to his as possible, my legs expertly jump up and wrap around his waist. I can feel the tip of his erection lightly pressing against my pants. I’m oozing with need as the stranger carries me over to the bed.
To tell you the truth, I never really expected my first time to be in a cheesy room such as this one. The sheets were like silk beneath my fingertips, smooth and cool to the touch. Although the setting was quite romantic…it was almost too romantic. The place was practically screaming, “FUCK HERE!”
The headboard is in the shape of a heart, but my attention is brought back to the hungry male sliding up my body. He’s as breathless as I am, if not more.
My body is shaking with need for him and my heart is soaring as if on cloud 9. This man has my complete and utter attention, and now I’m about to give him the best thing I have, my virginity. My trembling hands move down his shirt and I tug it over his head right before his lips come crashing down on my own.
The rest of our clothes are thrown and scattered into opposite ends of the room as we completely ravish each other, our hands exploring the other’s body. His hands kneed my breasts as he looks over my naked form. I shiver under his heated glare, but I continue to savor the moment, letting his hands touch me, let his hands explore me.
His hands move away and I whimper in protest. “Don’t stop,” I manage to huff out.
“I have no such intention,” he says. Those are the first words he’s spoken to me all night, and his voice is absolute heaven. His tongue is swirling around my nipple doing magic I thought no man could ever create.
I moan and arch into his mouth, hoping he’ll use more than just his tongue. Instead, he continues his torturous motions, repeating the same pattern on my other breast.
At this point I am beyond sexual frustration. I flip him over so that I’m lying on top. I finally get a good glimpse of this Greek god’s body. Wow, I didn’t know men came in such heavenly packages. Sliding down his body, I ‘accidentally’ brush my naval against the tip of his erection.
I can see fresh liquid come out of his member and I’m completely fascinated. Taking his member in my hand, I guide it into my mouth. Who would’ve guessed little Lizzie Parker giving a stranger a blowjob, certainly not me.
I start to pick up the pace, feeling the length of him going deeper and deeper into my mouth. My eyes flutter open enough to see the man on the bed gripping the sheets. His dick starts to pulsate and I know he’s near release. Instead of helping him with that, I gently slide the end of his head out of my mouth.
Returning the favor buddy. His eyes shine with that familiar hunger I’m used to seeing in his golden depths, as he flips me over. Capturing my mouth in his own, he does his own type of exploring.
His erection is now pressed gently at my entrance. It’s sweet actually. He pulls away from my lips and gazes into my eyes questioning. I nod in silent answer and open my legs further. He enters slowly at first, as if knowing I’m a virgin. He proceeds to push until I can take it anymore. I dig my heels into his tight, hot ass, pushing him deeper inside of me, tearing my barrier in the process. I scream out in pain and the man stops his ministrations. He slowly starts moving within me and I can feel the pain turn into immense pleasure. There’s something else I can feel too, emotions? I feel concern and…love? I look into the stranger’s eyes and raise myself up beneath him, meeting him thrust for thrust.
Soon, he takes the hint and after a few minutes of taking things slow and gently. He begins to thrust, both of us begging for our turning point. I can feel myself near the edge and I know the man is almost near exploding. What is he waiting for?
A few more deep thrusts and I’m over the edge. As if the experience couldn’t get more pleasurable, I feel him thrust his seed deep inside of me and I know this is where I belong. In his arms.
I look at him as I’m panting and out of breath, he looks like he’s about to collapse. He seems to be having an inner battle, until he pulls out of me and collapses at my side.
Together, we climb under the silk sheets, reveling in the feel of skin against skin. My eyelids close and I’m brought into the oblivion of ‘sweet dreams.’
Author's Note: If you're wondering, hey have I read this fic? You probably have. I wrote it under another username, but I felt that it was time to move past that username. Personally, I wanted more people to check out my style of writing now as opposed to my style of writing when I was a freshman in high school (it was horrible, believe me). So, thank you ahead of time to anyone who posts feedback. I have up to Chapter 5 done, but to give me time on typing up Chapter 6 and creating a Chapter 6, I've decided on doing a chapter a day until the time comes where I need to post a new part.[/b]
An Enigmatic Stranger(AU,WA,ML,ADULT) Ch16- 07/28/05{WIP}
Moderators: Anniepoo98, ISLANDGIRL5, truelovepooh, Forum Moderators
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Effluent Elegance
- Enthusiastic Roswellian
- Posts: 19
- Joined: Tue Dec 02, 2003 6:25 pm
- Location: Wisconsin
An Enigmatic Stranger(AU,WA,ML,ADULT) Ch16- 07/28/05{WIP}
Last edited by Effluent Elegance on Wed Aug 17, 2005 8:44 pm, edited 21 times in total.
-
Effluent Elegance
- Enthusiastic Roswellian
- Posts: 19
- Joined: Tue Dec 02, 2003 6:25 pm
- Location: Wisconsin
Chapter 2
<center>Chapter 2</center>
Is it really morning already? The sun is poking its growing rays through the silk drapes and my eyes flutter open. Wait. I don't have silk drapes. This isn't my bed, this isn't my room, and that most definitely is not my man!
I take a glance at his heavenly body and I know it's too good to be true. His chest is rising and falling, giving me a better look at his to die for muscles. I've never seen any man so in shape. My eyes drift lower to find the sheets are tangled around his waist, but that doesn't mean I still can't see his-ok, never mind. The physical attraction I have towards this man is nothing compared to the emotional attraction I feel towards him. I've never felt this way about anyone before. He had me at "hello". Of course, we never even said hello to each other, but I know if I stick around there'll be plenty of hellos.
Suddenly, it hits me. I'm going to Harvard. I have dreams, dreams that don't include falling in love until after college. Wow, did I just say falling in love? No, I can't. You see if I fall in love, then it makes it impossible to go to a college that could be about as far apart as Michael and I are going to be. Maybe even farther. I know I can't deal with that kind of heartache right now.
Mustering up all the courage I have left and every ounce of will power, I rise off the bed, careful not to jostle it too much. Once off the bed I take a glance at the floor. Clothes are scattered everywhere. Tiptoeing as quickly and quietly as possible, I gather my clothing. At least what I can find of it. Damn, where is my underwear? I throw on my other clothes deciding that getting the hell out of here is much more important than finding my underwear. My halter-top is put on haphazardly, along with my pants and shoes. My eyes drift back to the sleeping form on the bed.
Who was this man? Maybe after college I could look him up. His heap of clothing is lying on the floor and I reach for his pants, pulling out the wallet. If I get a look at his drivers license I would know his name, and the rest would be history, or the future, I guess. At that particular moment the man decides to stir around on the bed and I knew it was only a matter of moments before he would be waking up. There's only one thing for me to do. Panic. Dropping the wallet, I dash to the door. I slip outside, after opening and closing the door as quietly as possible.
That, my friends is the biggest mistake of my life. Not sleeping with the stranger, but merely walking out on him.
Now, I'm running down the street. I've gone about four blocks when my dumb heal breaks. I knew these shoes were cheap when I bought them. Who sells heals for ten dollars anyway? Wouldn't you figure?
The only way to get myself out of this mess is to get to the Crashdown and talk to Maria. She's the only one who will be even semi-understanding. Never would I dream of telling Michael what happened. Sure, he's my best friend, but he's more like a brother. His natural reaction would be to rip the stranger to shreds. I remember when he first found out I was dating. The poor guy I was dating for not even 24 hours ended up with a broken nose. Needless to say, the guy dumped me, scared of what Michael was going to do next.
Finally, I see the Crashdown lights. I hobble inside, still wearing my broken shoe.
"Chica! What happened? You look like shit," Maria says. Well, at least she's honest. Michael's not working today. I can see Jose working the grill. I can look on the bright side - at this moment, instead of being interrogated by Michael, I get to discuss girl matters with Maria.
"Thanks, Maria," I say sarcastically. My tone changes as I try to get straight to the point, "I need to talk to you. Is there anywhere-more private?" My head is glancing around the restaurant. The old people are starting to stare at me. Then again, I bet I'm quite a sight. My shoe is broken, my shirt is crooked and I have bed head.
"Sure, I get off in about half an hour. Why don't you go shower and change and we can discuss this private thing when you're done," Maria says sympathetically.
I nod and walk away, pushing the swinging door into the kitchen open and climb up the steps to my apartment. Once inside my room I gather some clothing and go into the bathroom. I strip down and step into the shower. The pain from the night before is still there. The whole night had been amazing, and now I have to deal with the after effects. Speaking of after effects, did we use a condom? I was so horny, I forgot to ask and I'm not on the pill. What am I going to do? I could be pregnant. There could be a little boy or little girl growing down there right now, and I don't even know the father's name.
<center>* * *</center>
I'd ended up losing track of time while I was in the shower. So after dressing and making myself look presentable it'd been half an hour by the time I made it back to the Crashdown. Maria had been in the employee's only area, changing into her own clothes and out of that silly uniform we had to wear.
"Ok, Chiquita, what's on your mind?" Maria asks, oblivious to the fact that we're still in an eavesdropping area.
"Can't we talk somewhere more private? Somewhere where my dad or Michael can't drop in at any time?" Wow, is it just me, or do I sound really paranoid?
"Sure, my place? Although, I can't guarantee Michael won't be dropping in at anytime. You know how guys are," she says winking and nudging my arm.
Unfortunately, I know all too well how guys can be. Take last night for example. The man had completely forgotten the condom. Is it because he didn't have one and just wanted a late night fuck? Was I just another whore on his list? Whore. Am I a whore?
"You ok?" Maria asks, breaking me of my thoughts. "We better go right now, you look troubled." The walk to Maria's house seemed to take forever. We didn't really talk much because the thoughts in my head kept branching into new ideas. What if the guy was a pimp looking for some hookers? Ok, now THAT is a crazy idea.
Finally we arrive at Maria's place. Wouldn't you guess, her mother is miraculously out of town, luckily leaving Maria and I to the entire house. "Ok, we're here. Where do you want to start?"
"I guess from the beginning. This-this can't be told to either Michael or my father. I just-I don't know if I have anything stable in my life anymore. Michael and I went to that club last night, The Alienation," I start. Maria's guiding me into the living room. She sits down on the couch, but I continue to just stand there.
"Oh, yeah, Michael and I were bumping and grinding. Oh my god, he was your ride home wasn't he? I'm so sorry. I can't believe how inconsiderate I was!" Maria says her eyes apologizing.
"It's ok. I met a guy there. We uh, got close. There's no easy way to say this so I'm just going to say it. Maria, I'm no longer a virgin. I fucked a guy I didn't know, and before you go off saying anything, it was as much my decision as it was his. Maria, my god, I think I'm emotionally attached to the man. I don't even know his name. All I know is that I walked out on him this morning when I should've stayed there and asked to know more about him. What was I thinking? I fell in love and I let the man go." I'm pacing back and forth, attempting to get rid of the nerves that keep building up like the steam in a kettle on the stove. Any second now I'm going to explode.
"Chica, you're in love? Wow."
"That's not it! He's probably gone from the hotel that we slept in together. He probably doesn't live here. I've never seen someone that gorgeous before, and if I had I think I'd remember. Oh, and trust me it gets worse." I continue ranting, my hands flying in all directions, to emphasize my point. Is it possible for a petite girl like myself to burn a hole into a rug? Because I think it's happening right now. "We didn't use a condom-and I'm not on the pill. I could end up with an STD, or worse, pregnant. What am I going to do? My dreams are shattered!"
"Ok, Chiquita, calm down," Maria says after standing up. Her hands go to my shoulders halting my movements. "Now, we're going to get you to a doctor and we'll check everything out. Michael won't know anything about this, don't worry. Here, some cedar oil, it helps to calm the nerves." Maria is holding out a tinted bottle while I reluctantly take a whiff. It's amazing how my body seems to relax just by the simple scent.
"Maria, what am I going to do? What if I am pregnant?" I ask calmly, but on the verge of tears.
"Well-if you want there are alternate options. You don't have to have the baby. There's always abortion or adoption."
"I can't do that. Not to an innocent child. There so small and - to kill it would just be, wrong. As for adoption - giving it up would be the hardest thing. If that baby's growing in there for 9 months of my life I think I deserve to take care of it."
"Well, I guess we'll have to get you to a doctor. I'm going to call the doctor right now. You, sit down and relax," Maria says, taking control of the situation. It's odd, but this is exactly what I need right now. Someone who will tell me what to do and calm my ever rising nerves. I plop down onto the couch and grip the pillow as tight as possible.
Moments pass by and my brain is frozen. I continue to stare ahead of me without a thought. I don't know what to think anymore. I'm paralyzed by the growing fear. Before I know it, Maria comes back into the room and tells me that there's a doctor’s appointment scheduled in a week.
"Maria, I know we haven't been the best of friends, but I just wanted to thank you. For everything, for letting me come here, for calming me, and for setting up that doctors appointment."
"Hey, if the roles were switched, I bet you'd do the same thing for me," Maria responded.
I stand up and give Maria a tight hug. "Now, please, I just, I can't have Michael or my parents finding out-so do you think, could we keep this between us? I mean strictly between us. You know how small Roswell is. If someone catches wind of what happened the rumor mill will be grinding."
"Of course, my lips are sealed. You have my word, chica," Maria says, emphasizing her point she pretends to zip her lips shut and throw away the key.
Author's Note: Senioritis is really starting to kick in for me! This morning in Study Hall, I could've been doing some homework, but I decided you guys have been patient enough, so I was writing out the next chapter. Unfortunately I'm a slow handwriter so I only got about 2 pages (front and back) done. It's not even a quarter of the chapter yet, so I'm hoping I can work on it again tomorrow morning. Now onto some responses I wanted to clear up.
cherie: I was Eerie. My first five fan fictions were poor (at best), but this was the one story that actually was decent. My muse decided to harp on me to finish it and here I am.
*Zans-gurl*, emma1126, begonia9508, anonymousarfan, extingman: Thank you for your wonderful comments!
Is it really morning already? The sun is poking its growing rays through the silk drapes and my eyes flutter open. Wait. I don't have silk drapes. This isn't my bed, this isn't my room, and that most definitely is not my man!
I take a glance at his heavenly body and I know it's too good to be true. His chest is rising and falling, giving me a better look at his to die for muscles. I've never seen any man so in shape. My eyes drift lower to find the sheets are tangled around his waist, but that doesn't mean I still can't see his-ok, never mind. The physical attraction I have towards this man is nothing compared to the emotional attraction I feel towards him. I've never felt this way about anyone before. He had me at "hello". Of course, we never even said hello to each other, but I know if I stick around there'll be plenty of hellos.
Suddenly, it hits me. I'm going to Harvard. I have dreams, dreams that don't include falling in love until after college. Wow, did I just say falling in love? No, I can't. You see if I fall in love, then it makes it impossible to go to a college that could be about as far apart as Michael and I are going to be. Maybe even farther. I know I can't deal with that kind of heartache right now.
Mustering up all the courage I have left and every ounce of will power, I rise off the bed, careful not to jostle it too much. Once off the bed I take a glance at the floor. Clothes are scattered everywhere. Tiptoeing as quickly and quietly as possible, I gather my clothing. At least what I can find of it. Damn, where is my underwear? I throw on my other clothes deciding that getting the hell out of here is much more important than finding my underwear. My halter-top is put on haphazardly, along with my pants and shoes. My eyes drift back to the sleeping form on the bed.
Who was this man? Maybe after college I could look him up. His heap of clothing is lying on the floor and I reach for his pants, pulling out the wallet. If I get a look at his drivers license I would know his name, and the rest would be history, or the future, I guess. At that particular moment the man decides to stir around on the bed and I knew it was only a matter of moments before he would be waking up. There's only one thing for me to do. Panic. Dropping the wallet, I dash to the door. I slip outside, after opening and closing the door as quietly as possible.
That, my friends is the biggest mistake of my life. Not sleeping with the stranger, but merely walking out on him.
Now, I'm running down the street. I've gone about four blocks when my dumb heal breaks. I knew these shoes were cheap when I bought them. Who sells heals for ten dollars anyway? Wouldn't you figure?
The only way to get myself out of this mess is to get to the Crashdown and talk to Maria. She's the only one who will be even semi-understanding. Never would I dream of telling Michael what happened. Sure, he's my best friend, but he's more like a brother. His natural reaction would be to rip the stranger to shreds. I remember when he first found out I was dating. The poor guy I was dating for not even 24 hours ended up with a broken nose. Needless to say, the guy dumped me, scared of what Michael was going to do next.
Finally, I see the Crashdown lights. I hobble inside, still wearing my broken shoe.
"Chica! What happened? You look like shit," Maria says. Well, at least she's honest. Michael's not working today. I can see Jose working the grill. I can look on the bright side - at this moment, instead of being interrogated by Michael, I get to discuss girl matters with Maria.
"Thanks, Maria," I say sarcastically. My tone changes as I try to get straight to the point, "I need to talk to you. Is there anywhere-more private?" My head is glancing around the restaurant. The old people are starting to stare at me. Then again, I bet I'm quite a sight. My shoe is broken, my shirt is crooked and I have bed head.
"Sure, I get off in about half an hour. Why don't you go shower and change and we can discuss this private thing when you're done," Maria says sympathetically.
I nod and walk away, pushing the swinging door into the kitchen open and climb up the steps to my apartment. Once inside my room I gather some clothing and go into the bathroom. I strip down and step into the shower. The pain from the night before is still there. The whole night had been amazing, and now I have to deal with the after effects. Speaking of after effects, did we use a condom? I was so horny, I forgot to ask and I'm not on the pill. What am I going to do? I could be pregnant. There could be a little boy or little girl growing down there right now, and I don't even know the father's name.
<center>* * *</center>
I'd ended up losing track of time while I was in the shower. So after dressing and making myself look presentable it'd been half an hour by the time I made it back to the Crashdown. Maria had been in the employee's only area, changing into her own clothes and out of that silly uniform we had to wear.
"Ok, Chiquita, what's on your mind?" Maria asks, oblivious to the fact that we're still in an eavesdropping area.
"Can't we talk somewhere more private? Somewhere where my dad or Michael can't drop in at any time?" Wow, is it just me, or do I sound really paranoid?
"Sure, my place? Although, I can't guarantee Michael won't be dropping in at anytime. You know how guys are," she says winking and nudging my arm.
Unfortunately, I know all too well how guys can be. Take last night for example. The man had completely forgotten the condom. Is it because he didn't have one and just wanted a late night fuck? Was I just another whore on his list? Whore. Am I a whore?
"You ok?" Maria asks, breaking me of my thoughts. "We better go right now, you look troubled." The walk to Maria's house seemed to take forever. We didn't really talk much because the thoughts in my head kept branching into new ideas. What if the guy was a pimp looking for some hookers? Ok, now THAT is a crazy idea.
Finally we arrive at Maria's place. Wouldn't you guess, her mother is miraculously out of town, luckily leaving Maria and I to the entire house. "Ok, we're here. Where do you want to start?"
"I guess from the beginning. This-this can't be told to either Michael or my father. I just-I don't know if I have anything stable in my life anymore. Michael and I went to that club last night, The Alienation," I start. Maria's guiding me into the living room. She sits down on the couch, but I continue to just stand there.
"Oh, yeah, Michael and I were bumping and grinding. Oh my god, he was your ride home wasn't he? I'm so sorry. I can't believe how inconsiderate I was!" Maria says her eyes apologizing.
"It's ok. I met a guy there. We uh, got close. There's no easy way to say this so I'm just going to say it. Maria, I'm no longer a virgin. I fucked a guy I didn't know, and before you go off saying anything, it was as much my decision as it was his. Maria, my god, I think I'm emotionally attached to the man. I don't even know his name. All I know is that I walked out on him this morning when I should've stayed there and asked to know more about him. What was I thinking? I fell in love and I let the man go." I'm pacing back and forth, attempting to get rid of the nerves that keep building up like the steam in a kettle on the stove. Any second now I'm going to explode.
"Chica, you're in love? Wow."
"That's not it! He's probably gone from the hotel that we slept in together. He probably doesn't live here. I've never seen someone that gorgeous before, and if I had I think I'd remember. Oh, and trust me it gets worse." I continue ranting, my hands flying in all directions, to emphasize my point. Is it possible for a petite girl like myself to burn a hole into a rug? Because I think it's happening right now. "We didn't use a condom-and I'm not on the pill. I could end up with an STD, or worse, pregnant. What am I going to do? My dreams are shattered!"
"Ok, Chiquita, calm down," Maria says after standing up. Her hands go to my shoulders halting my movements. "Now, we're going to get you to a doctor and we'll check everything out. Michael won't know anything about this, don't worry. Here, some cedar oil, it helps to calm the nerves." Maria is holding out a tinted bottle while I reluctantly take a whiff. It's amazing how my body seems to relax just by the simple scent.
"Maria, what am I going to do? What if I am pregnant?" I ask calmly, but on the verge of tears.
"Well-if you want there are alternate options. You don't have to have the baby. There's always abortion or adoption."
"I can't do that. Not to an innocent child. There so small and - to kill it would just be, wrong. As for adoption - giving it up would be the hardest thing. If that baby's growing in there for 9 months of my life I think I deserve to take care of it."
"Well, I guess we'll have to get you to a doctor. I'm going to call the doctor right now. You, sit down and relax," Maria says, taking control of the situation. It's odd, but this is exactly what I need right now. Someone who will tell me what to do and calm my ever rising nerves. I plop down onto the couch and grip the pillow as tight as possible.
Moments pass by and my brain is frozen. I continue to stare ahead of me without a thought. I don't know what to think anymore. I'm paralyzed by the growing fear. Before I know it, Maria comes back into the room and tells me that there's a doctor’s appointment scheduled in a week.
"Maria, I know we haven't been the best of friends, but I just wanted to thank you. For everything, for letting me come here, for calming me, and for setting up that doctors appointment."
"Hey, if the roles were switched, I bet you'd do the same thing for me," Maria responded.
I stand up and give Maria a tight hug. "Now, please, I just, I can't have Michael or my parents finding out-so do you think, could we keep this between us? I mean strictly between us. You know how small Roswell is. If someone catches wind of what happened the rumor mill will be grinding."
"Of course, my lips are sealed. You have my word, chica," Maria says, emphasizing her point she pretends to zip her lips shut and throw away the key.
Author's Note: Senioritis is really starting to kick in for me! This morning in Study Hall, I could've been doing some homework, but I decided you guys have been patient enough, so I was writing out the next chapter. Unfortunately I'm a slow handwriter so I only got about 2 pages (front and back) done. It's not even a quarter of the chapter yet, so I'm hoping I can work on it again tomorrow morning. Now onto some responses I wanted to clear up.
cherie: I was Eerie. My first five fan fictions were poor (at best), but this was the one story that actually was decent. My muse decided to harp on me to finish it and here I am.
*Zans-gurl*, emma1126, begonia9508, anonymousarfan, extingman: Thank you for your wonderful comments!
Last edited by Effluent Elegance on Mon Dec 08, 2003 9:51 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Effluent Elegance
- Enthusiastic Roswellian
- Posts: 19
- Joined: Tue Dec 02, 2003 6:25 pm
- Location: Wisconsin
Chapter 3
<center>Chapter 3</center>
“Ok, thank you,” I tell the doctor on the other line. Not only moments ago I found out the results from both the sexually transmitted disease tests and the pregnancy test.
A couple days ago I’d gone into the doctor’s office completely petrified. My heart was racing and I swear I saw my hands trembling. Maria had been by my side the entire time, holding my hand while the doctor looked around, if you get my drift. You could’ve said it was actually some female bonding, in its own odd sort of way.
Although I was squeezing onto Maria’s hand for dear life, the poking and prodding had minimal pain. I wasn’t so much afraid of the doctor, I was afraid of the results.
If I was pregnant, what was I going to do with my life? Would I have to drop out of Harvard? I knew I would. You see, Harvard hadn’t offered me a full scholarship. I knew when I’d gotten to Boston, Massachusetts I’d have to find a job, and even that would be hard to hold up. The possibility that I would have to support another life would be almost impossible if I’d decided to go to Harvard.
So, here I was on the phone with the doctor. I believe his exact words were, “We have some great news for you Ms. Parker. The STD tests performed turned up negative and it looks as though you’re going to have a healthy baby.”
You can imagine my shock to the whole situation. I tried not to sound depressed when I thanked him, but that was like asking Miss Piggy to suddenly become attracted to Mr. Potato Head. Miss Piggy and Mr. Potato Head? Can you honestly imagine what sort of children they would have? Mr. Spud Squiggly Tail. What a child.
A child. I was pregnant. I have to break the news to Michael first. If anything, he can help me with my parents. I just know nothing good will come when I tell my parents. They always taught me to stay abstinent until marriage. My mother told me that the best thing to give a man on your wedding night was yourself, knowing that you had been with no one else. What would they say about the baby? Would they make me get rid of it in order to maintain my status at Harvard?
I won’t and can’t let that happen. I would disappear before my parents made me get rid of this tiny baby growing inside of me, even though it made my dreams of going to Harvard flush down the toilet with the morning sickness.
After the call with the doctor, I pick the phone up and dial the one number that I’ve known for at least a decade, minus my own. The familiar voice on the other end picks up and suddenly I’m extremely nervous of telling Michael I’m pregnant. Honestly, this is something you don’t tell someone over the phone. So, I have to act as calm and casual as I can and make this ‘meeting’ as normal as possible.
“Speak,” Michael orders, after picking up his end of the receiver.
“Michael, meet me on the balcony.” With that I hang up. There really was no need to say my goodbye because Michael would’ve just hung up on me anyway. After setting the phone back in its cradle, I walk out to the balcony, sitting on the plush red chair.
I look up at the clear blue sky and wonder where this mystery man is right now. Is he sitting in a chair right now thinking about me? Or does he not even care? If I were to see him again, what would I say? Would I just skip passed all of the hellos and tell him blatantly that I’m pregnant? My hands begin to tremble in fear and anticipation, and before I know it, I’m pacing back and forth, waiting for Michael to arrive. Out of nervousness, I tuck my hair behind my ears every ten seconds. Habit, I guess.
Finally, Michael arrives, and he sees the state I’m in. That’s me just one giant bundle of nerves! How can I tell him? Should I just up and say it? There really is no other way.
“Liz? You ok?” Michael asks. “I came here as quick as I could…usually I’m the one to hang up on you.” He laughs awkwardly, obviously trying to lighten the mood. It’s not working.
“Michael, there’s something I need to tell you. Now, please don’t go storming out of here, mad at me or the other person. I just…I need a friend right now. Especially since I don’t know how I’m going to break it to my parents. I just hope you’ll be by my side for that moment.” I can see his confused face and his brows furrow, but I press on. If I don’t get this out right now, I may lose my best friend. “I can’t go to Harvard…I won’t be able to make it. I’m going to UCLA.”
“But Harvard is your dream. I refuse to let you give up your dreams, Liz,” Michael says, taking a seat on the ledge of the balcony.
“Please, Michael, just listen to the whole story,” I say, gathering the rest of my thoughts and nerves. “There’s no easy way to say this, but I’m pregnant. That night at the Alienation… some guy and I…”
Before I can finish my sentence Michael butts in. “Did he rape you? Oh god, Lizzie, who is the bastard, I’m going to kick his ass.” See? The overprotective brother that was hiding in there just made an appearance.
“It was my decision too.”
“What’s his name? I’m gonna kick his ass for knocking you up,” Michael says, emphasizing his point by pounding his fist into the palm of his other hand.
I can’t take this, not right now. So, I collapse onto the plush chair, my head in my hands as the tears fall freely. “I…I d-don’t know!” It’s a shock that I got anything out, with my voice quavering and the sobs wracking my entire body.
“I’m sorry Lizzie. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Michael says soothingly. He moves over beside me in the chair and rubs my back tenderly. “I’ll do whatever you need. I’m here for you.”
“Th-th-thanks,” I sob, turning so that I can hug him. We sit there for a while him stroking my hair and me attempting to close the floodgates.
“We’re going to find a place in Los Angeles and I’ll help you raise the child. You don’t have to worry about anyone not being there for you.” Michael knows exactly what to say at a time like this. It’s surprising considering his usual demeanor is sarcastic and he has the tendency to push people away.
Finally, gathering my senses together, I pull away and look at him. My crying has subsided for now. Is the reason for this little episode pregnancy hormones? I finally catch my voice, without the sobbing and hiccupping. “I…I have to tell my parents tonight, Michael. Please tell me, you’ll come for dinner. I don’t want to do this alone.”
“Of course I’ll do it,” he responds. He sounds enthusiastic, making the tension rise from the situation. “Lizzie…if you need to tell me anything, I’m here for you. I don’t want you to be nervous or afraid.”
So, that means he saw me shaking and tucking hair behind my ears when he came up to my balcony. Although, I think ANYONE would have noticed the fear I was carrying at that moment. Then again, will that fear be anything compared to what it’ll be like to tell my parents? They’ll be livid.
“Ok.” Quickly, I glance at the clock on my nightstand from the balcony. It’s almost five o’clock. Dinner in the Parker household is usually made around five thirty. My mom always makes more than intended for the actual meal, incase we have any unexpected guests. More than likely it’s Michael.
After being emancipated a year ago, it was hard for him to maintain his own money, so he’d pay the bills, but that left little to be saved. He comes over for dinner five nights a week, plus he gets all you can eat in the Crashdown…considering he’s the cook.
His biological father had been abusive to him in the early stages of his life. His mother had called social services, on her husband, hoping to protect Michael. It tragically resulted in his mother’s death and his father getting sent to jail. He was thrown from foster home to foster home, but no one seemed to care about him. Eventually, he’d had enough and with my convincing, he became an emancipated minor.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he replies.
I climb in through the window of my bedroom. After my feet touch the floor I move around my room, starting to tidy things up. There’s really not much to clean, considering my room is pretty spotless as it is, except for that mess at the desk. I move over to the desk and start to clean up the papers, throwing old ones out and making a stack for those I should save; another nervous habit of mine.
My overly happy mother comes into the room, breaking me from my cleaning exercise, “Ready for dinner?”
I glance at her and follow her to the table, Michael following me in close pursuit. We take our usual seats at the table. My mom lays the food in the center of the table and we all grab something, passing it clockwise around the table.
“So, what’s new?” My mother asks. It makes me queasy and I’m almost too sick to eat. Now, I said almost.
Michael glances in my direction, silently asking if I wanted to say anything yet. I look down at my plate. Grabbing my fork, I pick at my food. Not tasting it immediately, just sifting through the various grub.
“Michael, aren’t you seeing that sweet waitress, Maria?” My mom asks. Suddenly the pressure feels like it’s been lifted off of me. Though, I am curious as to what’s going on between the two, so I look at Michael.
“No. She’s repulsive, and cheery, and a gossip, and…”
A laugh erupts from my lips as I look at him. Michael actually likes her, odd way of showing it, right? I’m not the only one who notices, though.
“That’s so cute,” my mother says, smiling.
We finish our meal, mostly teasing Michael about how much he likes Maria in between bites of food. When we’re finished, we sit there, as usual, while my mom cleans the table off.
“Dad. Mom. There’s something I need to tell you guys,” I say seriously, my attention shifting between the two of them. “I’m pregnant.”
My mom is halfway to the dishwasher when she drops the plates in her hands. Not exactly the reaction I was expecting. My dad looks at me as if I’m a whore and not his own daughter.
“What the HELL do you mean you’re pregnant,” he screams, his glare menacing. “Who’s the father?” His voice is demanding.
I open my mouth to answer, when Michael cuts in. “I am.”
Did he just say? Oh my god, I can’t live a lie. This is getting worse by the minute. Then again, no one really knows my father better than Michael. My father has always treated him like the son he never had. So maybe this will lift the pressure off of me a little bit, right?
“I want the two of you to get married. It’s repulsive to think that my own daughter would have sex out of wedlock. Even you Michael have surprised me,” my father says glaring at him. I can’t let this happen. I won’t get married to my best friend, who’s acted like my brother. It’d be like incest!
“Dad.”
“Liz, I think it’s in your best interest to put the baby first,” he says harshly.
“No, listen!” I scream, growing more impatient by the second. “I’m not pregnant with Michael’s child. I don’t even know the father’s name, but I am pregnant. I’m sorry I’m such a disgrace to the family.” With that I bring my head into my hands and let the tears fall silently. I attempt to not make a noise; it would give my father the satisfaction of bringing me down.
“Liz, I wash my hands of you, you’re no longer my daughter. I want you out of this house by morning,” he says. My father just disowned me. Standing up from my seat at the table, I walk to my room, Michael following me.
“Liz, come live with me. He’s an ass for saying all that shit, trust me, you’ll be much better off at my place,” Michael says comfortingly.
I nod and go to my closet. I pull out the suitcase from the top shelf and start loading my clothing. Michael goes out to the living room, my mother and father talk to him, but I don’t hear him respond. He returns with some moving boxes and starts to help me pack. I’m now an orphan, just like my best friend.
Author's Note: I feel like I'm copping out on you guys if I don't at least try to put in one Author's Note for every new chapter. I know this one was a little sad, but the new chapter I'm coming up with should be happier. It's great to see so many response especially two years after Roswell has aired. I'm so glad everyone has remained such active fans! Plus, in the last few months, I've realized Roswell fans have the BEST fan fiction.
extingman: my must says you're kindly welcome.
cherie: muse's are a wonderful thing, aren't they?
roswellluver: you are kickass! I remember when you posted to some of my old old stories. Thanks for all the years of posts!
Strawbehrry Shortcake: And here I was worrying that some of the people that read it in the past weren't going to read it because they a) didn't recognize the title or b) left Roswell Fanatics. Thanks for all of your enthusiasm!
Asianbehr: I love your use of bold. It makes me happy to see your so exciting about my writing!
begonia9508: Ah yes...the eyes. Everyone knows when Max and Liz look into each other's eyes it's the beggining of an orgasm.
“Ok, thank you,” I tell the doctor on the other line. Not only moments ago I found out the results from both the sexually transmitted disease tests and the pregnancy test.
A couple days ago I’d gone into the doctor’s office completely petrified. My heart was racing and I swear I saw my hands trembling. Maria had been by my side the entire time, holding my hand while the doctor looked around, if you get my drift. You could’ve said it was actually some female bonding, in its own odd sort of way.
Although I was squeezing onto Maria’s hand for dear life, the poking and prodding had minimal pain. I wasn’t so much afraid of the doctor, I was afraid of the results.
If I was pregnant, what was I going to do with my life? Would I have to drop out of Harvard? I knew I would. You see, Harvard hadn’t offered me a full scholarship. I knew when I’d gotten to Boston, Massachusetts I’d have to find a job, and even that would be hard to hold up. The possibility that I would have to support another life would be almost impossible if I’d decided to go to Harvard.
So, here I was on the phone with the doctor. I believe his exact words were, “We have some great news for you Ms. Parker. The STD tests performed turned up negative and it looks as though you’re going to have a healthy baby.”
You can imagine my shock to the whole situation. I tried not to sound depressed when I thanked him, but that was like asking Miss Piggy to suddenly become attracted to Mr. Potato Head. Miss Piggy and Mr. Potato Head? Can you honestly imagine what sort of children they would have? Mr. Spud Squiggly Tail. What a child.
A child. I was pregnant. I have to break the news to Michael first. If anything, he can help me with my parents. I just know nothing good will come when I tell my parents. They always taught me to stay abstinent until marriage. My mother told me that the best thing to give a man on your wedding night was yourself, knowing that you had been with no one else. What would they say about the baby? Would they make me get rid of it in order to maintain my status at Harvard?
I won’t and can’t let that happen. I would disappear before my parents made me get rid of this tiny baby growing inside of me, even though it made my dreams of going to Harvard flush down the toilet with the morning sickness.
After the call with the doctor, I pick the phone up and dial the one number that I’ve known for at least a decade, minus my own. The familiar voice on the other end picks up and suddenly I’m extremely nervous of telling Michael I’m pregnant. Honestly, this is something you don’t tell someone over the phone. So, I have to act as calm and casual as I can and make this ‘meeting’ as normal as possible.
“Speak,” Michael orders, after picking up his end of the receiver.
“Michael, meet me on the balcony.” With that I hang up. There really was no need to say my goodbye because Michael would’ve just hung up on me anyway. After setting the phone back in its cradle, I walk out to the balcony, sitting on the plush red chair.
I look up at the clear blue sky and wonder where this mystery man is right now. Is he sitting in a chair right now thinking about me? Or does he not even care? If I were to see him again, what would I say? Would I just skip passed all of the hellos and tell him blatantly that I’m pregnant? My hands begin to tremble in fear and anticipation, and before I know it, I’m pacing back and forth, waiting for Michael to arrive. Out of nervousness, I tuck my hair behind my ears every ten seconds. Habit, I guess.
Finally, Michael arrives, and he sees the state I’m in. That’s me just one giant bundle of nerves! How can I tell him? Should I just up and say it? There really is no other way.
“Liz? You ok?” Michael asks. “I came here as quick as I could…usually I’m the one to hang up on you.” He laughs awkwardly, obviously trying to lighten the mood. It’s not working.
“Michael, there’s something I need to tell you. Now, please don’t go storming out of here, mad at me or the other person. I just…I need a friend right now. Especially since I don’t know how I’m going to break it to my parents. I just hope you’ll be by my side for that moment.” I can see his confused face and his brows furrow, but I press on. If I don’t get this out right now, I may lose my best friend. “I can’t go to Harvard…I won’t be able to make it. I’m going to UCLA.”
“But Harvard is your dream. I refuse to let you give up your dreams, Liz,” Michael says, taking a seat on the ledge of the balcony.
“Please, Michael, just listen to the whole story,” I say, gathering the rest of my thoughts and nerves. “There’s no easy way to say this, but I’m pregnant. That night at the Alienation… some guy and I…”
Before I can finish my sentence Michael butts in. “Did he rape you? Oh god, Lizzie, who is the bastard, I’m going to kick his ass.” See? The overprotective brother that was hiding in there just made an appearance.
“It was my decision too.”
“What’s his name? I’m gonna kick his ass for knocking you up,” Michael says, emphasizing his point by pounding his fist into the palm of his other hand.
I can’t take this, not right now. So, I collapse onto the plush chair, my head in my hands as the tears fall freely. “I…I d-don’t know!” It’s a shock that I got anything out, with my voice quavering and the sobs wracking my entire body.
“I’m sorry Lizzie. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Michael says soothingly. He moves over beside me in the chair and rubs my back tenderly. “I’ll do whatever you need. I’m here for you.”
“Th-th-thanks,” I sob, turning so that I can hug him. We sit there for a while him stroking my hair and me attempting to close the floodgates.
“We’re going to find a place in Los Angeles and I’ll help you raise the child. You don’t have to worry about anyone not being there for you.” Michael knows exactly what to say at a time like this. It’s surprising considering his usual demeanor is sarcastic and he has the tendency to push people away.
Finally, gathering my senses together, I pull away and look at him. My crying has subsided for now. Is the reason for this little episode pregnancy hormones? I finally catch my voice, without the sobbing and hiccupping. “I…I have to tell my parents tonight, Michael. Please tell me, you’ll come for dinner. I don’t want to do this alone.”
“Of course I’ll do it,” he responds. He sounds enthusiastic, making the tension rise from the situation. “Lizzie…if you need to tell me anything, I’m here for you. I don’t want you to be nervous or afraid.”
So, that means he saw me shaking and tucking hair behind my ears when he came up to my balcony. Although, I think ANYONE would have noticed the fear I was carrying at that moment. Then again, will that fear be anything compared to what it’ll be like to tell my parents? They’ll be livid.
“Ok.” Quickly, I glance at the clock on my nightstand from the balcony. It’s almost five o’clock. Dinner in the Parker household is usually made around five thirty. My mom always makes more than intended for the actual meal, incase we have any unexpected guests. More than likely it’s Michael.
After being emancipated a year ago, it was hard for him to maintain his own money, so he’d pay the bills, but that left little to be saved. He comes over for dinner five nights a week, plus he gets all you can eat in the Crashdown…considering he’s the cook.
His biological father had been abusive to him in the early stages of his life. His mother had called social services, on her husband, hoping to protect Michael. It tragically resulted in his mother’s death and his father getting sent to jail. He was thrown from foster home to foster home, but no one seemed to care about him. Eventually, he’d had enough and with my convincing, he became an emancipated minor.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he replies.
I climb in through the window of my bedroom. After my feet touch the floor I move around my room, starting to tidy things up. There’s really not much to clean, considering my room is pretty spotless as it is, except for that mess at the desk. I move over to the desk and start to clean up the papers, throwing old ones out and making a stack for those I should save; another nervous habit of mine.
My overly happy mother comes into the room, breaking me from my cleaning exercise, “Ready for dinner?”
I glance at her and follow her to the table, Michael following me in close pursuit. We take our usual seats at the table. My mom lays the food in the center of the table and we all grab something, passing it clockwise around the table.
“So, what’s new?” My mother asks. It makes me queasy and I’m almost too sick to eat. Now, I said almost.
Michael glances in my direction, silently asking if I wanted to say anything yet. I look down at my plate. Grabbing my fork, I pick at my food. Not tasting it immediately, just sifting through the various grub.
“Michael, aren’t you seeing that sweet waitress, Maria?” My mom asks. Suddenly the pressure feels like it’s been lifted off of me. Though, I am curious as to what’s going on between the two, so I look at Michael.
“No. She’s repulsive, and cheery, and a gossip, and…”
A laugh erupts from my lips as I look at him. Michael actually likes her, odd way of showing it, right? I’m not the only one who notices, though.
“That’s so cute,” my mother says, smiling.
We finish our meal, mostly teasing Michael about how much he likes Maria in between bites of food. When we’re finished, we sit there, as usual, while my mom cleans the table off.
“Dad. Mom. There’s something I need to tell you guys,” I say seriously, my attention shifting between the two of them. “I’m pregnant.”
My mom is halfway to the dishwasher when she drops the plates in her hands. Not exactly the reaction I was expecting. My dad looks at me as if I’m a whore and not his own daughter.
“What the HELL do you mean you’re pregnant,” he screams, his glare menacing. “Who’s the father?” His voice is demanding.
I open my mouth to answer, when Michael cuts in. “I am.”
Did he just say? Oh my god, I can’t live a lie. This is getting worse by the minute. Then again, no one really knows my father better than Michael. My father has always treated him like the son he never had. So maybe this will lift the pressure off of me a little bit, right?
“I want the two of you to get married. It’s repulsive to think that my own daughter would have sex out of wedlock. Even you Michael have surprised me,” my father says glaring at him. I can’t let this happen. I won’t get married to my best friend, who’s acted like my brother. It’d be like incest!
“Dad.”
“Liz, I think it’s in your best interest to put the baby first,” he says harshly.
“No, listen!” I scream, growing more impatient by the second. “I’m not pregnant with Michael’s child. I don’t even know the father’s name, but I am pregnant. I’m sorry I’m such a disgrace to the family.” With that I bring my head into my hands and let the tears fall silently. I attempt to not make a noise; it would give my father the satisfaction of bringing me down.
“Liz, I wash my hands of you, you’re no longer my daughter. I want you out of this house by morning,” he says. My father just disowned me. Standing up from my seat at the table, I walk to my room, Michael following me.
“Liz, come live with me. He’s an ass for saying all that shit, trust me, you’ll be much better off at my place,” Michael says comfortingly.
I nod and go to my closet. I pull out the suitcase from the top shelf and start loading my clothing. Michael goes out to the living room, my mother and father talk to him, but I don’t hear him respond. He returns with some moving boxes and starts to help me pack. I’m now an orphan, just like my best friend.
Author's Note: I feel like I'm copping out on you guys if I don't at least try to put in one Author's Note for every new chapter. I know this one was a little sad, but the new chapter I'm coming up with should be happier. It's great to see so many response especially two years after Roswell has aired. I'm so glad everyone has remained such active fans! Plus, in the last few months, I've realized Roswell fans have the BEST fan fiction.
extingman: my must says you're kindly welcome.
cherie: muse's are a wonderful thing, aren't they?
roswellluver: you are kickass! I remember when you posted to some of my old old stories. Thanks for all the years of posts!
Strawbehrry Shortcake: And here I was worrying that some of the people that read it in the past weren't going to read it because they a) didn't recognize the title or b) left Roswell Fanatics. Thanks for all of your enthusiasm!
Asianbehr: I love your use of bold. It makes me happy to see your so exciting about my writing!
begonia9508: Ah yes...the eyes. Everyone knows when Max and Liz look into each other's eyes it's the beggining of an orgasm.
Last edited by Effluent Elegance on Mon Dec 08, 2003 9:51 am, edited 1 time in total.
-
Effluent Elegance
- Enthusiastic Roswellian
- Posts: 19
- Joined: Tue Dec 02, 2003 6:25 pm
- Location: Wisconsin
Chapter 4
<center>Chapter 4</center>
The move to Michael’s had been a temporary one and most of my stuff stayed in boxes because I knew in a month we'll be moving again. I went through the morning sickness cycle and after a while my body adjusted to the circumstances. We talked to the manager about moving out a week before the big move.
This second move would be to Los Angeles. I was going to take the easy road. There was no way I’d financially be ok having to support a child and tuition at Harvard, my dream school. By going to UCLA I was taking the easy road.
Michael showed me the apartment we’d be staying in. It was a simple two bedroom apartment with a kitchen, a living room and a bathroom. It wasn’t the Hilton, but we had a roof over our heads and that’s all that mattered. Stepping into the apartment, I placed a hand over my stomach. In over a year the little rascal would be running around this apartment, most likely making a mess with toys.
It’s still hard to grasp that I, Liz Parker, was going to be a mother. I didn’t even know if I was ready for motherhood. Sure, I would baby-sit occasionally for neighbors, but that was a part of a part time job.
I know that stress wouldn’t be easy for the fetus inside of me; I took a deep breath and released all the worry from my system. The last thing I needed in my new life is for the baby to be injured in some sort of way.
Michael, being the obnoxious gentleman he is, brought in both of our bags and some of our boxes. Sometime in the next 24 hours the truck with the rest of our stuff was supposed to arrive.
“I’m going to go buy a paper, and then we can look at jobs together,” Michael said.
“Another job with you? However will I survive?” I responded sarcastically. We shared a laugh and he went outside to get one. Considering there was a stack of boxes piling up in the middle of the living room, I started to lift them to their appropriate rooms. Since none of the furniture was here yet, I couldn’t really set up the odd things in the boxes, but if I put them in the appropriate rooms at least it didn’t look so cluttered in the living room.
As I was lifting the last box to go into the kitchen, Michael walked in. He must have had a panic attack because he rushed to me, dropping the newspaper in the process.
“Liz! Why are you lifting these boxes? Are you all right? Is Junior all right?” Michael asked, fear splattered all over his face. I couldn’t help the giggle that spurted between my slightly parted lips.
“Michael, I’m pregnant, not an invalid. I’m perfectly capable of lifting boxes. Last time I checked women didn’t lose their babies for lifting heavy objects. And another thing, the baby isn’t going to be named Jr. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for everything you’ve done, but a kid with the name Michael.” I can’t help but laugh at the comment. Michael’s face is in awe and I find it quite hilarious.
”So, what jobs are available?” I ask, carefully opening the box with a few necessities for the kitchen: paper plates, plastic silverware, and some cans of food to get us started off. We had no clue when the truck with our stuff would be here. The company told us 2-3 days. Michael had first commented asking if it was Fed-Ex for larger items. In fact, he was outraged, of course he didn’t want any of his items being stolen, but the company claimed they had other customers to deliver to and only a few drivers.
Michael walked back to where he dropped the newspaper. After picking it up he walked into the kitchen and sat on top of the countertop. He opened the newspaper and started searching while I put the necessities away. When I finished, which was pretty quickly, I sat next to Michael on the countertop looking over his shoulder.
“This one looks good. They’re looking for waiters. You know, waiters and waitresses make good cash,” Michael said. “It’s at some ritzy restaurant.”
“Is it located near campus?” I asked. I most definitely did not want to be going to work after class if it was 5 miles away.
“No. Hmm, well, there’s a coffee shop that seems to be hiring. Just so happens it’s near campus for you.” Michael continued to look at the newspaper as I hopped off the counter.
“Sounds good. Where’s it located?”
“About 3 blocks from here. I’ll go with you and apply,” Michael says, following my lead. Taking the newspaper, he rolled it up and stuffed it into his back pocket. Michael happens to be a direction guru. He can look at any address and tell you exactly where it is with one look at a map.
I remember when we were kids. Of course I’d be the one to always get us lost, but Michael could retrace our steps exactly and take us back to where we were. Like when we’d go camping and we wanted to go on a woodsy adventure. I was so confident I knew where we were going, that I’d lead the way. Of course then I’d always get us lost. Those were the carefree days…when my parents actually cared about being in my life.
I squeeze my eyes shut knowing that if I keep thinking about the situation I’ll cry. I really don’t want to put Michael in that awkward position, especially when we’re turning over a new leaf.
In the meantime, I’ve slowed down enough to let Michael take the lead. Before I know it, we’re at the coffee house. The place is crammed with people of all ages and ethnicities. It stirs something inside of me, making me excited to be attending UCLA. The building is designed architecturally. The windows go from floor to ceiling and there was even a section in the coffee house for poets or other local artists. From the windows you could see the front of UCLA. My heart raced. This is where I’d be going to school. Sure, it was no Harvard, but I could live with that.
Before we knew it we were at the front of the line. Michael spoke first, “May we speak to the manager? We heard there were some openings and we’re interested.”
“Jake!” the worker yelled, startling me. I hadn’t expected the person to act so rudely. To be perfectly honest I thought the girl was going to walk into the back room and get the manager. The manager emerged and walked towards us. “They are interested in job applications.”
The manager pulled out two forms and two pens. “Take a seat and fill these out and then we’ll have an impromptu interview.”
Michael grabbed the items while we walked to one of the window seats. The scenery was beautiful: palm trees and the sun shining brightly. To be completely honest I couldn’t wait for a visit to the beach, at least while I still had this body. In a few more months I’d be peaking. I filled out the information quickly and with ease. I walked back to where the manager was waiting and gave him the information and he took me into the back for the interview. The whole event went by in a blur and before I knew it I was finished. I left the interview room and Michael entered.
In the meantime I bought a cappuccino and sat at another window seat. I stared out of the window and thought about where that stranger was and what he was doing right now. I didn’t know one person could ever captivate my heart as much as he did. In fact he had captivated more than my heart. My body was urging for his touch and my mind was constantly filled with thoughts of that night. I don’t want to let myself down thinking about him being such a saint, when in reality he could be just another horny guy. My eyes cloud with tears. Looks like pregnancy hormones have already got me by the neck.
“Excuse me, are you ok?”
I look up and see a tall, skinny, dark haired guy. He looks to be my age. “I…I’ll be ok,” I respond, stifling the tears that are so clearly ready to fall from my already red eyes.
“The name’s Whitman, Alex Whitman, at your service milady.”
I smile. This boy has this cute innocence. He seems like the type I could easily become friends with. “Thanks, why don’t you sit down,” I say waving at the seat across from me. “Sorry about the tears, I’m just a bit emotional.” I wipe away the remainder of my tears as Alex sits down across from me.
“So, are you going to UCLA too?” He asks. His eyes tell me that he’s genuine and obviously one of those guys that will stick with you to the very end. I knew a guy like that: Michael. Any guy that could remind me of Michael was definitely worth befriending.
“Yeah, I plan on majoring in molecular biology. I’m a new student, how about you?” I ask.
“Well, I’m a computer science major. It’s always nice to speak to some decent freshmen. I’m a sophomore and I remember last year. I was so nervous. It didn’t help that I was a nerd. I had glasses, the tight pants and suspenders.” Alex smiled and I giggled in response.
“You really had suspenders?” I asked.
“No, but I thought it would add to the effect of how much of a nerd I was.” Alex laughed. He glanced at his watch and spoke again, “Well, I have to get going now, my girlfriend is supposed to be meeting me on campus in five minutes. It was nice meeting you…hey, what’s your name? Maybe I’ll run into you on campus sometime.”
“My name is Liz, Liz Parker.” We laugh, knowing that I mocked his whole ‘entrance’ as one might call it. Alex bids me farewell and leaves me to my thoughts, which are soon interrupted by Michael.
“Who was that guy? Was he bothering you? Do you need me to kick his ass?” Michael’s overprotective brother act gets old so easily. I love him despite it, though.
“He’s a really nice guy with a girlfriend, if you must know, Michael,” I respond. Michael looks a bit taken back, like he was expecting a guy that would harass me and act like he was only there to get in my pants. In fact, it was the exact opposite.
“Oh. Well, the manager told me that we’re both hired and we start tomorrow. We’re required to wear khaki pants and a black shirt,” Michael says, attempting to take the spotlight off of his stupid comments. Truthfully, I didn’t care one way or another, because now I have a job. I’d be saving up every penny of my job just for this baby growing inside of me. Thank God for this scholarship. I don’t think I’d survive without it.
Author's Note: I'm still working on my Pride and Prejudice Essay, so I'm not sure when my new chapter will be out. Everything through chapter 5 is a repost. Hopefully, I'll have time to work on chapter 6 during study hall tomorrow, but I'm not sure because I have to read two more books before the quarter comes to a close. Neither of those books is too short, so we'll see. Hopefully, like I said yesterday, I'll have time to write and post chapter 6 and 7 before christmas break. I hope everyone has a wonderful weekend!
The move to Michael’s had been a temporary one and most of my stuff stayed in boxes because I knew in a month we'll be moving again. I went through the morning sickness cycle and after a while my body adjusted to the circumstances. We talked to the manager about moving out a week before the big move.
This second move would be to Los Angeles. I was going to take the easy road. There was no way I’d financially be ok having to support a child and tuition at Harvard, my dream school. By going to UCLA I was taking the easy road.
Michael showed me the apartment we’d be staying in. It was a simple two bedroom apartment with a kitchen, a living room and a bathroom. It wasn’t the Hilton, but we had a roof over our heads and that’s all that mattered. Stepping into the apartment, I placed a hand over my stomach. In over a year the little rascal would be running around this apartment, most likely making a mess with toys.
It’s still hard to grasp that I, Liz Parker, was going to be a mother. I didn’t even know if I was ready for motherhood. Sure, I would baby-sit occasionally for neighbors, but that was a part of a part time job.
I know that stress wouldn’t be easy for the fetus inside of me; I took a deep breath and released all the worry from my system. The last thing I needed in my new life is for the baby to be injured in some sort of way.
Michael, being the obnoxious gentleman he is, brought in both of our bags and some of our boxes. Sometime in the next 24 hours the truck with the rest of our stuff was supposed to arrive.
“I’m going to go buy a paper, and then we can look at jobs together,” Michael said.
“Another job with you? However will I survive?” I responded sarcastically. We shared a laugh and he went outside to get one. Considering there was a stack of boxes piling up in the middle of the living room, I started to lift them to their appropriate rooms. Since none of the furniture was here yet, I couldn’t really set up the odd things in the boxes, but if I put them in the appropriate rooms at least it didn’t look so cluttered in the living room.
As I was lifting the last box to go into the kitchen, Michael walked in. He must have had a panic attack because he rushed to me, dropping the newspaper in the process.
“Liz! Why are you lifting these boxes? Are you all right? Is Junior all right?” Michael asked, fear splattered all over his face. I couldn’t help the giggle that spurted between my slightly parted lips.
“Michael, I’m pregnant, not an invalid. I’m perfectly capable of lifting boxes. Last time I checked women didn’t lose their babies for lifting heavy objects. And another thing, the baby isn’t going to be named Jr. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for everything you’ve done, but a kid with the name Michael.” I can’t help but laugh at the comment. Michael’s face is in awe and I find it quite hilarious.
”So, what jobs are available?” I ask, carefully opening the box with a few necessities for the kitchen: paper plates, plastic silverware, and some cans of food to get us started off. We had no clue when the truck with our stuff would be here. The company told us 2-3 days. Michael had first commented asking if it was Fed-Ex for larger items. In fact, he was outraged, of course he didn’t want any of his items being stolen, but the company claimed they had other customers to deliver to and only a few drivers.
Michael walked back to where he dropped the newspaper. After picking it up he walked into the kitchen and sat on top of the countertop. He opened the newspaper and started searching while I put the necessities away. When I finished, which was pretty quickly, I sat next to Michael on the countertop looking over his shoulder.
“This one looks good. They’re looking for waiters. You know, waiters and waitresses make good cash,” Michael said. “It’s at some ritzy restaurant.”
“Is it located near campus?” I asked. I most definitely did not want to be going to work after class if it was 5 miles away.
“No. Hmm, well, there’s a coffee shop that seems to be hiring. Just so happens it’s near campus for you.” Michael continued to look at the newspaper as I hopped off the counter.
“Sounds good. Where’s it located?”
“About 3 blocks from here. I’ll go with you and apply,” Michael says, following my lead. Taking the newspaper, he rolled it up and stuffed it into his back pocket. Michael happens to be a direction guru. He can look at any address and tell you exactly where it is with one look at a map.
I remember when we were kids. Of course I’d be the one to always get us lost, but Michael could retrace our steps exactly and take us back to where we were. Like when we’d go camping and we wanted to go on a woodsy adventure. I was so confident I knew where we were going, that I’d lead the way. Of course then I’d always get us lost. Those were the carefree days…when my parents actually cared about being in my life.
I squeeze my eyes shut knowing that if I keep thinking about the situation I’ll cry. I really don’t want to put Michael in that awkward position, especially when we’re turning over a new leaf.
In the meantime, I’ve slowed down enough to let Michael take the lead. Before I know it, we’re at the coffee house. The place is crammed with people of all ages and ethnicities. It stirs something inside of me, making me excited to be attending UCLA. The building is designed architecturally. The windows go from floor to ceiling and there was even a section in the coffee house for poets or other local artists. From the windows you could see the front of UCLA. My heart raced. This is where I’d be going to school. Sure, it was no Harvard, but I could live with that.
Before we knew it we were at the front of the line. Michael spoke first, “May we speak to the manager? We heard there were some openings and we’re interested.”
“Jake!” the worker yelled, startling me. I hadn’t expected the person to act so rudely. To be perfectly honest I thought the girl was going to walk into the back room and get the manager. The manager emerged and walked towards us. “They are interested in job applications.”
The manager pulled out two forms and two pens. “Take a seat and fill these out and then we’ll have an impromptu interview.”
Michael grabbed the items while we walked to one of the window seats. The scenery was beautiful: palm trees and the sun shining brightly. To be completely honest I couldn’t wait for a visit to the beach, at least while I still had this body. In a few more months I’d be peaking. I filled out the information quickly and with ease. I walked back to where the manager was waiting and gave him the information and he took me into the back for the interview. The whole event went by in a blur and before I knew it I was finished. I left the interview room and Michael entered.
In the meantime I bought a cappuccino and sat at another window seat. I stared out of the window and thought about where that stranger was and what he was doing right now. I didn’t know one person could ever captivate my heart as much as he did. In fact he had captivated more than my heart. My body was urging for his touch and my mind was constantly filled with thoughts of that night. I don’t want to let myself down thinking about him being such a saint, when in reality he could be just another horny guy. My eyes cloud with tears. Looks like pregnancy hormones have already got me by the neck.
“Excuse me, are you ok?”
I look up and see a tall, skinny, dark haired guy. He looks to be my age. “I…I’ll be ok,” I respond, stifling the tears that are so clearly ready to fall from my already red eyes.
“The name’s Whitman, Alex Whitman, at your service milady.”
I smile. This boy has this cute innocence. He seems like the type I could easily become friends with. “Thanks, why don’t you sit down,” I say waving at the seat across from me. “Sorry about the tears, I’m just a bit emotional.” I wipe away the remainder of my tears as Alex sits down across from me.
“So, are you going to UCLA too?” He asks. His eyes tell me that he’s genuine and obviously one of those guys that will stick with you to the very end. I knew a guy like that: Michael. Any guy that could remind me of Michael was definitely worth befriending.
“Yeah, I plan on majoring in molecular biology. I’m a new student, how about you?” I ask.
“Well, I’m a computer science major. It’s always nice to speak to some decent freshmen. I’m a sophomore and I remember last year. I was so nervous. It didn’t help that I was a nerd. I had glasses, the tight pants and suspenders.” Alex smiled and I giggled in response.
“You really had suspenders?” I asked.
“No, but I thought it would add to the effect of how much of a nerd I was.” Alex laughed. He glanced at his watch and spoke again, “Well, I have to get going now, my girlfriend is supposed to be meeting me on campus in five minutes. It was nice meeting you…hey, what’s your name? Maybe I’ll run into you on campus sometime.”
“My name is Liz, Liz Parker.” We laugh, knowing that I mocked his whole ‘entrance’ as one might call it. Alex bids me farewell and leaves me to my thoughts, which are soon interrupted by Michael.
“Who was that guy? Was he bothering you? Do you need me to kick his ass?” Michael’s overprotective brother act gets old so easily. I love him despite it, though.
“He’s a really nice guy with a girlfriend, if you must know, Michael,” I respond. Michael looks a bit taken back, like he was expecting a guy that would harass me and act like he was only there to get in my pants. In fact, it was the exact opposite.
“Oh. Well, the manager told me that we’re both hired and we start tomorrow. We’re required to wear khaki pants and a black shirt,” Michael says, attempting to take the spotlight off of his stupid comments. Truthfully, I didn’t care one way or another, because now I have a job. I’d be saving up every penny of my job just for this baby growing inside of me. Thank God for this scholarship. I don’t think I’d survive without it.
Author's Note: I'm still working on my Pride and Prejudice Essay, so I'm not sure when my new chapter will be out. Everything through chapter 5 is a repost. Hopefully, I'll have time to work on chapter 6 during study hall tomorrow, but I'm not sure because I have to read two more books before the quarter comes to a close. Neither of those books is too short, so we'll see. Hopefully, like I said yesterday, I'll have time to write and post chapter 6 and 7 before christmas break. I hope everyone has a wonderful weekend!
Last edited by Effluent Elegance on Mon Dec 08, 2003 9:52 am, edited 3 times in total.
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Effluent Elegance
- Enthusiastic Roswellian
- Posts: 19
- Joined: Tue Dec 02, 2003 6:25 pm
- Location: Wisconsin
Chapter 5
<center>Chapter 5</center>
It’s been three months since I’ve first started school here. I’m starting to get accustomed to living the life of a hectic student, but I’m still trying to come to terms with the fact that I am pregnant. There’s a bulge starting to peak and I’ve done a marvelous job of hiding it from people around me. I think a few of my classmates think I’ve eaten way too many cheeseburgers and gained 50 pounds. I refuse to shop in the maternity section of any store, because that would mean admitting to the world that I’m pregnant. After the whole incident with my father, I don’t think I’m ready for that, not yet anyway.
On my first day of school, I found out that Alex was in my Chemistry 101 class. It was like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. I knew exactly who my lab partner would be. Since then, he’s proven to be the best friend a gal could have. Technically, Michael is my best friend, but he acts more like a brother than a friend. For example, Michael gets a bit overprotective when it comes to meeting guys. I suppose he doesn’t want a repeat of the night I lost my virginity.
I should tell you: I’ve been having these dreams. The man, that Adonis, if only I knew his name. He has completely flipped my life (and my heart) upside down. Every time I look down to my protruding belly, I think of that one special night, and those dreams, my god those dreams. It seems every morning (and sometimes nights); I need to take a cold shower. If only he knew what he’s done to me. Not just the obvious pregnancy, but mentally and emotionally he has taken over my life. There have been a few offers from guys at school to go on dates, but I just can’t bring myself to go out with any of them. I feel like I’m cheating on a man that isn’t even here!
Without getting too much off topic, today I’m going into the doctor’s office. My doctor says the pregnancy is moving quickly and today I’m ready for a sonogram. Before I go to the doctor’s appointment, I need to talk to Alex. I feel like ever since I met him, I’ve been lying to him. I’ve dreaded this moment for the past month, because I knew the closer of a friend he became to me, the harder it would be to tell him. So far, Michael and Maria have been the only ones to accept this pregnancy. Then again, the odds aren’t too bad. Two out of four of the people who know have been on my side, but the other two-orphan seems to pop up in my brain again. Yes, I’ve thought about that atrocious moment in my life more than once in the past few months. When I’m not dreaming about Mr. Adonis, I’m having nightmares. The dishes falling, and then the shatter of the porcelain as it collides with the wood, followed by my…Jeff’s voice.
I have to get out of here. My shift starts in half an hour, but before I start I’m telling Alex. Before I can give anymore thought about the Parkers, I grab my jacket and head outdoors. December in Los Angeles is a bit chilly compared to the desert winter weather in Roswell. I can’t imagine what it would be like in Boston right now. There’s another sore topic. Don’t even go there Elizabeth. Pregnancy hormones can be a bitch. One second you’re on top of the world, the next your on the verge of tears, and when those emotions have passed, you’re ready to beat the shit out of one of those candy ass sorority chicks. No offense.
It takes me five minutes to walk to the coffee shop. I have to admit, this job has more ups than downs, which is more than I can say for The Crashdown. At the coffee house the majority of customers come from the college, so it’s easy to strike up intelligent conversation about university events and classes. There has never been immature jocks that barge in with bets made on who can score with the waitress. Even the disrespectful fraternity brothers steer clear of the quaint coffee shop. The more I’m here, the more I realize that the coffee shop serves more as a library than a restaurant.
I push the glass door open and step into the café. Straight ahead, I see Alex sitting by a window at a table with four chairs. Usually when we talk here, he grabs a table with two chairs. He has my imagination running overdrive, mainly because the table isn’t the only table left in the café. The only time we ever get a stampede of customers is when we have a community band performing for us, like Jars of Clay or Save Ferris. I walk to the table and sit across from him, as usual.
As if he’s a psychic, Alex says, “Isabel will be joining us today. I told her that today was supposed to be a private discussion, but she would not take no for an answer. She really wanted to meet you, especially after all the talk she’s heard about you.”
Isabel is Alex’s girlfriend. On any normal occasion I would love to meet the girl that makes Alex as jovial as he is, but right now is just not the time! Immediately my mind goes rampant on what I’m going to tell Alex. Obviously I don’t want to make a bad impression on Isabel the first day I meet her, but I’ve seen how secrets can hurt someone.
It was the beginning of sophomore year. Maria had just gotten back from band camp. She went to the camp every summer during the month of August. It was supposed to help high school students around the state get in tune (no pun intended) with their musical side. Music was the one thing that could keep Maria grounded. Whenever we hung out, it was giggles and gossip, but music matured Maria.
Back to the story; when Maria returned it was like this elephant was on her shoulders. You could see her sulking as she walked off the plane. At this point, it was uncertain as to whether Maria and Michael were even together; if you asked what one thought, the other would respond with the exact opposite. Michael was with me when we went to pick Maria up. He was obviously the one who thought they were in a relationship. On the way to the gate, he picked up a bouquet of flowers. As soon as Maria saw the flowers in Michael’s hand she broke out into tears and bolted for the bathroom. Consequently, I followed, hoping to ease the poor girl’s guilt. When I got into the dingy bathroom, Maria confessed everything to me. She had kissed another guy during camp and she felt extremely guilty.
She made me promise not to tell anyone, specifically Michael. Months passed, and during one of their feuds Maria confessed. It wasn’t pretty. Let’s just say a few dishes were broken; I could’ve sworn it was World War III in the kitchen. The two had scared away the last customers that night. I was taking care of everything: washing tables, putting the chairs on the tables, and mopping the floor. I heard my name being spoken from the kitchen, and I looked up to see what was wrong. Michael was so angry; I swore he had steam coming out of his ears. I remember his exact words to this day. “How could you betray me? She cheated on me and you didn’t say a goddamn word about it? Do me a favor, stay out of my life, Elizabeth!” I cringed at his words, and kicked myself in the shins everyday until Thanksgiving, when he came to my window with flowers and an apology.
Then again, if I don’t tell Isabel, I don’t want her to think that there’s this huge conspiracy going on against her. I’ve gotten into a tangle through that too, with, you guessed it, Maria. I won’t delve into that story now, because it’s pretty similar to the previous one. Someday when I’m old and gray and I have nothing else to speak of, I’ll let you know.
I think I’m going to opt for the ‘tell her later’ option. Isabel introduces herself, full name: Isabel Evans. What a pretty name; when I hear it, something sparks inside of me, or is it someone? Do I know this woman? Some of her features look familiar, but I can’t figure out from where. “Do I know you from somewhere?” I ask Isabel.
“I don’t think so. Where are you from?” Isabel asks.
“Roswell, New Mexico,” I reply, gazing curiously at her. Those eyes, those familiar eyes, I’ve only seen eyes like that on one other person, but who? Who has deep, defined, amber eyes?
“Well, I’m from Albuquerque, New Mexico; it’s a possibility we could’ve bumped into each other. When I was a child, my mother took me to Roswell to check out the sites. Living in New Mexico her whole life and she had never been to that tourist trap. Tell me, have you met an alien yet?” she jokes. Behind her smile I can see a look of…curiosity?
“If you met her best friend Michael Guerin, I think you’d agree he’s a little green around the gills,” Alex jokes. He’s experienced first hand the overprotective brother, more than once. One night Michael drilled Alex for answers on our ‘relationship,’ if that’s what you would call it.
Isabel and I laugh at the joke. After what seems like an hour, she excuses herself to the bathroom. I guess all those drinks are getting to her. Finally, I see an opportunity to tell Alex what’s going on.
“Alex, I’m going to get straight to the point, because I don’t know how long Isabel is going to be in the bathroom. I don’t really know your girlfriend too well, so I didn’t think it was appropriate to tell the both of you what’s going on in my life at this moment, but I wanted to tell you since we’ve become such great friends in the last few months. I’m pregnant and in a couple hours I’m going to get my sonogram. I would ask you to go with Michael and me, but I don’t want to impose on any time you may have planned with your girlfriend,” I finish, finally allowing myself to take a breath of air. How am I supposed to know if Isabel is the road runner in the bathroom? I just wanted to allow myself enough time to have this conversation.
Alex’s eyes are wide with shock, and my heart speeds up. There’s one thing my parents taught me: no matter how well you know someone, they can always shut you out of their life with a snap of their fingers. Was Alex going to pull this trick? Could I live with it? Before I can think much longer, Alex speaks. “Wow, Liz, I’m flattered. That sounds really cool. Isabel and I can get together anytime and anywhere if you know what I mean. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge. It’d be a pleasure and an honor to accompany you and Michael.”
“Oh Alex, you have no idea how much this means to me!” I scream, racing around the table to give him a friendly hug. Isabel decides to immerge from the bathroom at this instant, and wouldn’t you guess it, so does the green eyed monster. I’m not trying to steal your boyfriend, I swear! Don’t hurt the pregnant woman.
Maybe I should duck behind another table for cover. I definitely don’t want to get caught in this crossfire. Oh man, maybe I should’ve told her too. Damn being courteous and telling the truth. Which one am I supposed to side with?
Before I can make a decision, my boss Jake yells to me, “Parker, your shift’s up.” If there is a god out there, he certainly saved me from having to leave a bad impression on Isabel. I quickly run to the employee’s only section of the coffee shop, slip on my apron and punch in. When I step back outside (casually, of course) Isabel is gone and Alex is waiting for me.
“I’ll meet you at the end of your shift then?” Alex asks.
“Yeah. I hope I didn’t cause any trouble with Isabel,” I respond, attempting to talk to Alex and clean off the countless dirty tables. It amazes me that my coworkers are such bums. I can see Elaine behind the counter, filing her nails. I’m surprised Jake hasn’t fired her yet; by the way I’ve heard him talk about her in the break room-let’s just say her days are numbered.
“Nah. She’s sitting out in the car waiting, and if she doesn’t understand…poo on her shoes!” Alex jokes. I let a laugh emit from my lips and he jogs out of the restaurant to his girlfriend’s car. Hot damn, that woman has money! Now, I’m not a car person, but that car has all the right curves in all the right places…it had to be worth a lot of money.
My shift ends before I know it. Michael and Alex have both shown up and are waiting patiently, talking about guy stuff. After I’ve punched out, we go to the doctor’s office. The drive seems to take no more than five minutes. The office is located in the hospital on the first floor; so luckily, I don’t have to drag my fat ass up any of these stairs. I push through the glass doors separating the pregnancy waiting room and the hospital hallways. Once I’ve checked in, I glance around the waiting room. There’s a teenage girl, younger than I am, sitting with her parents. She looks about ready to go into labor. At least her parents haven’t abandoned her. They’re by her side through the pregnancy. Her mom has probably given her tips on being a mother and what hardships the girl will have to go through. I have to shut my eyes tight to make the tears go away.
When I open them again, the girl is gone, so I detour my thoughts to another patient. This one looks about the age I had hoped to be when I got pregnant. Next to her is a man whom I can only assume is her husband. He has his arm around her shoulder and he’s rubbing her arm with comfort. Once again, I have to look away from the scene unfolding before my eyes. Where is that man, that kind, gentle man that made love to me that night; that produced this baby?
That’s when it happened. It was for a mere millisecond. I saw a room littered with books and it was snowing outside. It was as if I was gazing at something from someone else’s eyes. But who, and was this my imagination running rapidly, wishing that somehow it was that man. It has to be due to the fact that I want him here so badly, so I’m making things up in my imagination.
I’m brought out of my thoughts by Michael’s hand insistently shaking my arm. “Earth to Liz! The doctor has been calling us for the past two minutes.”
I blush at the thought. I really have been letting my thoughts get the best of me lately. I’m not even living in the real world anymore; I’ve drifted into my thoughts and once I’m there, I can’t leave. I better stand up and walk to that waiting room before my thoughts get too out of control.
I enter the exam room and can’t help but glance at the stark, white room. The walls are white, the exam bed is white, the linoleum tiling is white, oh and, ironically the monitor is white. I chuckle at the thought. These people are really into unity.
”Communists,” I hear Michael mutter under his breath. He was obviously checking out the same thing I was. I had to control myself so I wouldn’t end up in a full fledged laugh-a-thon. You know what I’m talking about, the roll on the floor, gut wrenching, cheek hurting, non-stop laugh.
The nurse sits me on the bed and lifts my baggy shirt up. She smothers my belly with this nasty petroleum jelly. It doesn’t have the most pleasant scent and the goop is layered thickly on my stomach. She pulls out and instrument and goes into detail about what she’s going to be doing. The instrument is placed on my belly and the nurse gazes intently at the monitor, looking for the life formed inside of me. She slows down and I can sense that she’s near the baby. I look at the monitor and tears of happiness slide down my cheeks. This baby is mine; I helped create this tiny, precious child. She points out the arms, the legs, and the head. The baby looks so tiny in there, and so delicate. I hope I can protect the baby from any harm that may come its way for the rest of his life.
“Would you like to know the baby’s sex?” the nurse asks.
“Ok Liz, here’s the moment of truth. I say it’s a boy, you want to bet on it Alex? I say boy,” Michael says in a rush. If it’s possible, I think he’s more excited about the child’s gender than I am!
“Fifty bucks says it’s a girl,” Alex says, crossing his fingers.
The nurse laughs at the two children. Remind me again why I brought them along? Oh yeah, for moral support. I don’t see betting on my child’s gender as moral support.
“Well Liz, it looks like you’re going to have a baby boy,” the nurse says, grinning at Michael.
Alex puts his head down in a sulk. I think he just learned that crossing your fingers isn’t necessarily a sure fire way of getting lucky. He proceeds to pull out his wallet and fork over the fifty dollars. Michael has this ‘I told you so’ look on his face.
“Michael, you cheated,” I tell him. A week ago, I had this ‘feeling’ (for lack of a better term) that I was going to have a baby boy. Call it mother’s intuition, and more times than not, the mother is right. I tell Alex about the intuition and Alex looks like he’s about to get into a quarrel with Michael.
“Hey, you lost fair and square. We didn’t put any restrictions to the bet. Besides, Liz doesn’t know this yet, but the money’s going to her anyway…I’m going to get her something that doesn’t make her look so…big,” Michael says, with no attempt to lower his voice.
”Michael, I’m not deaf. You know how touchy women can get when they’re pregnant. If it was anyone else who said that I’d either burst into tears or beat the shit out of you. Now, one of these days I might just be in the mood for a good ass kicking, so pick your words carefully,” I say in a threatening tone. Damn, where’d all this bitchy-ness come from? I guess I had to open up that can of whoop ass on Michael.
“I said it sensitively,” Michael says, trying to defend himself against the crazy pregnant woman.
“Dude, it’s a lost cause, just drop it. You have the fifty dollars,” Alex says, trying to keep his laughter to a minimum.
In the meantime, the nurse has wiped the jelly off of my stomach and I pull the baggy shirt back over my stomach. The three of us leave the hospital room, Alex still laughing to himself, and Michael cursing his choice of words. I smile at the two men I love most in the world…next to that stranger of course. Even under these circumstances, the way he cherished me, held me, made love to me, I knew that he was the one. Why did I walk away from him though? If only I had stuck around another day…maybe things would be different now. Maybe it would’ve been him taking me to the appointment and him with his arm wrapped around me, rubbing my shoulder to ease the tension in the waiting room.
Instead, I’m stuck, hoping that tonight I have another one of those dreams, those wonderful dreams. Did I mention that he is in them? Usually his face is shadowed over; I’ve forgotten what his face looks like. The rest of his body though…that’s a different story.
The car ride home seems to go by quickly. I hardly remember when we dropped Alex off at the dorms or watching other cars whip past us as they leave for some hot new college keg party. When I do get home, I walk to my room and crash on the bed.
Immediately, I’m followed by the sensual dream. He walks up to me; this time we’re on the beach. It’d be pitch black if it weren’t for the moon and the stars illuminating the sand and making the ocean sparkle with more light. His hands immediately find mine and he brings them to his lips, cherishing each individual finger. When he’s finished making love to my fingers, his hands travel up my arms until they find the buttons to my blouse. He unbuttons each button, slowly, trying to make the moment last. Once he’s unbuttoned my blouse, his hands travel up to my shoulders and he proceeds to slide the blouse down my arms.
Before I know it, my bra is on the sand and his hands begin to shape my breasts. The dream is so real, and like reality, I’m pregnant. My breasts are extremely sensitive, and his ministrations were making me only more aroused.
“More,” I gasp, practically tearing his shirt off in the process, throwing it over his head. My hands retraced the muscular chest that I had explored so many times before in these dreams. Tonight there won’t be any fore play. I don’t think my sexual state at this time would allow it. We both reach for the button and zipper at our pants and rid ourselves of the confines in record timing.
“I love you, and our baby,” he said, stroking my belly. This was the first time I’d heard him talk in our dreams. Never in my life had I felt this unconditional love. I wanted to show him how much I cared. We rid each other of our underwear, our hands disobeying our idle thoughts.
He lay down on the sand first, hoping that I would follow. I knelt down, knowing that at this particular stage of the pregnancy, there would be no missionary positions. I lowered my pussy onto his engorged penis and began to take him for a ride. His hands found their way to my breasts again, and he gently massaged them, only adding to the stimulation from my southern regions. It didn’t take much for me to cum, but when I did I saw the stars, again. Not the stars that I could see from a vantage point on the beach, but the stars from outer space. It was strange and exhilarating at the same time.
Regretfully, we parted. I woke up in a cold sweat and I knew one thing: it was time for another midnight cold shower.
Author's Note: Bah, don't hurt me. I still haven't done the new chapter. I'm going to be lucky if I can get those two chapters in before break. This weekend looks to be a little hectic as I have 3 projects/essays to do and a party to host (you didn't hear it from me though; the folks are out of town). I think if I manage my time well, I can get my homework done and get Chapter 6 out on or before Sunday. Thank you for all the posts (sorry, but I have no time to respond individually, although I wish I did!).
It’s been three months since I’ve first started school here. I’m starting to get accustomed to living the life of a hectic student, but I’m still trying to come to terms with the fact that I am pregnant. There’s a bulge starting to peak and I’ve done a marvelous job of hiding it from people around me. I think a few of my classmates think I’ve eaten way too many cheeseburgers and gained 50 pounds. I refuse to shop in the maternity section of any store, because that would mean admitting to the world that I’m pregnant. After the whole incident with my father, I don’t think I’m ready for that, not yet anyway.
On my first day of school, I found out that Alex was in my Chemistry 101 class. It was like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. I knew exactly who my lab partner would be. Since then, he’s proven to be the best friend a gal could have. Technically, Michael is my best friend, but he acts more like a brother than a friend. For example, Michael gets a bit overprotective when it comes to meeting guys. I suppose he doesn’t want a repeat of the night I lost my virginity.
I should tell you: I’ve been having these dreams. The man, that Adonis, if only I knew his name. He has completely flipped my life (and my heart) upside down. Every time I look down to my protruding belly, I think of that one special night, and those dreams, my god those dreams. It seems every morning (and sometimes nights); I need to take a cold shower. If only he knew what he’s done to me. Not just the obvious pregnancy, but mentally and emotionally he has taken over my life. There have been a few offers from guys at school to go on dates, but I just can’t bring myself to go out with any of them. I feel like I’m cheating on a man that isn’t even here!
Without getting too much off topic, today I’m going into the doctor’s office. My doctor says the pregnancy is moving quickly and today I’m ready for a sonogram. Before I go to the doctor’s appointment, I need to talk to Alex. I feel like ever since I met him, I’ve been lying to him. I’ve dreaded this moment for the past month, because I knew the closer of a friend he became to me, the harder it would be to tell him. So far, Michael and Maria have been the only ones to accept this pregnancy. Then again, the odds aren’t too bad. Two out of four of the people who know have been on my side, but the other two-orphan seems to pop up in my brain again. Yes, I’ve thought about that atrocious moment in my life more than once in the past few months. When I’m not dreaming about Mr. Adonis, I’m having nightmares. The dishes falling, and then the shatter of the porcelain as it collides with the wood, followed by my…Jeff’s voice.
I have to get out of here. My shift starts in half an hour, but before I start I’m telling Alex. Before I can give anymore thought about the Parkers, I grab my jacket and head outdoors. December in Los Angeles is a bit chilly compared to the desert winter weather in Roswell. I can’t imagine what it would be like in Boston right now. There’s another sore topic. Don’t even go there Elizabeth. Pregnancy hormones can be a bitch. One second you’re on top of the world, the next your on the verge of tears, and when those emotions have passed, you’re ready to beat the shit out of one of those candy ass sorority chicks. No offense.
It takes me five minutes to walk to the coffee shop. I have to admit, this job has more ups than downs, which is more than I can say for The Crashdown. At the coffee house the majority of customers come from the college, so it’s easy to strike up intelligent conversation about university events and classes. There has never been immature jocks that barge in with bets made on who can score with the waitress. Even the disrespectful fraternity brothers steer clear of the quaint coffee shop. The more I’m here, the more I realize that the coffee shop serves more as a library than a restaurant.
I push the glass door open and step into the café. Straight ahead, I see Alex sitting by a window at a table with four chairs. Usually when we talk here, he grabs a table with two chairs. He has my imagination running overdrive, mainly because the table isn’t the only table left in the café. The only time we ever get a stampede of customers is when we have a community band performing for us, like Jars of Clay or Save Ferris. I walk to the table and sit across from him, as usual.
As if he’s a psychic, Alex says, “Isabel will be joining us today. I told her that today was supposed to be a private discussion, but she would not take no for an answer. She really wanted to meet you, especially after all the talk she’s heard about you.”
Isabel is Alex’s girlfriend. On any normal occasion I would love to meet the girl that makes Alex as jovial as he is, but right now is just not the time! Immediately my mind goes rampant on what I’m going to tell Alex. Obviously I don’t want to make a bad impression on Isabel the first day I meet her, but I’ve seen how secrets can hurt someone.
It was the beginning of sophomore year. Maria had just gotten back from band camp. She went to the camp every summer during the month of August. It was supposed to help high school students around the state get in tune (no pun intended) with their musical side. Music was the one thing that could keep Maria grounded. Whenever we hung out, it was giggles and gossip, but music matured Maria.
Back to the story; when Maria returned it was like this elephant was on her shoulders. You could see her sulking as she walked off the plane. At this point, it was uncertain as to whether Maria and Michael were even together; if you asked what one thought, the other would respond with the exact opposite. Michael was with me when we went to pick Maria up. He was obviously the one who thought they were in a relationship. On the way to the gate, he picked up a bouquet of flowers. As soon as Maria saw the flowers in Michael’s hand she broke out into tears and bolted for the bathroom. Consequently, I followed, hoping to ease the poor girl’s guilt. When I got into the dingy bathroom, Maria confessed everything to me. She had kissed another guy during camp and she felt extremely guilty.
She made me promise not to tell anyone, specifically Michael. Months passed, and during one of their feuds Maria confessed. It wasn’t pretty. Let’s just say a few dishes were broken; I could’ve sworn it was World War III in the kitchen. The two had scared away the last customers that night. I was taking care of everything: washing tables, putting the chairs on the tables, and mopping the floor. I heard my name being spoken from the kitchen, and I looked up to see what was wrong. Michael was so angry; I swore he had steam coming out of his ears. I remember his exact words to this day. “How could you betray me? She cheated on me and you didn’t say a goddamn word about it? Do me a favor, stay out of my life, Elizabeth!” I cringed at his words, and kicked myself in the shins everyday until Thanksgiving, when he came to my window with flowers and an apology.
Then again, if I don’t tell Isabel, I don’t want her to think that there’s this huge conspiracy going on against her. I’ve gotten into a tangle through that too, with, you guessed it, Maria. I won’t delve into that story now, because it’s pretty similar to the previous one. Someday when I’m old and gray and I have nothing else to speak of, I’ll let you know.
I think I’m going to opt for the ‘tell her later’ option. Isabel introduces herself, full name: Isabel Evans. What a pretty name; when I hear it, something sparks inside of me, or is it someone? Do I know this woman? Some of her features look familiar, but I can’t figure out from where. “Do I know you from somewhere?” I ask Isabel.
“I don’t think so. Where are you from?” Isabel asks.
“Roswell, New Mexico,” I reply, gazing curiously at her. Those eyes, those familiar eyes, I’ve only seen eyes like that on one other person, but who? Who has deep, defined, amber eyes?
“Well, I’m from Albuquerque, New Mexico; it’s a possibility we could’ve bumped into each other. When I was a child, my mother took me to Roswell to check out the sites. Living in New Mexico her whole life and she had never been to that tourist trap. Tell me, have you met an alien yet?” she jokes. Behind her smile I can see a look of…curiosity?
“If you met her best friend Michael Guerin, I think you’d agree he’s a little green around the gills,” Alex jokes. He’s experienced first hand the overprotective brother, more than once. One night Michael drilled Alex for answers on our ‘relationship,’ if that’s what you would call it.
Isabel and I laugh at the joke. After what seems like an hour, she excuses herself to the bathroom. I guess all those drinks are getting to her. Finally, I see an opportunity to tell Alex what’s going on.
“Alex, I’m going to get straight to the point, because I don’t know how long Isabel is going to be in the bathroom. I don’t really know your girlfriend too well, so I didn’t think it was appropriate to tell the both of you what’s going on in my life at this moment, but I wanted to tell you since we’ve become such great friends in the last few months. I’m pregnant and in a couple hours I’m going to get my sonogram. I would ask you to go with Michael and me, but I don’t want to impose on any time you may have planned with your girlfriend,” I finish, finally allowing myself to take a breath of air. How am I supposed to know if Isabel is the road runner in the bathroom? I just wanted to allow myself enough time to have this conversation.
Alex’s eyes are wide with shock, and my heart speeds up. There’s one thing my parents taught me: no matter how well you know someone, they can always shut you out of their life with a snap of their fingers. Was Alex going to pull this trick? Could I live with it? Before I can think much longer, Alex speaks. “Wow, Liz, I’m flattered. That sounds really cool. Isabel and I can get together anytime and anywhere if you know what I mean. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge. It’d be a pleasure and an honor to accompany you and Michael.”
“Oh Alex, you have no idea how much this means to me!” I scream, racing around the table to give him a friendly hug. Isabel decides to immerge from the bathroom at this instant, and wouldn’t you guess it, so does the green eyed monster. I’m not trying to steal your boyfriend, I swear! Don’t hurt the pregnant woman.
Maybe I should duck behind another table for cover. I definitely don’t want to get caught in this crossfire. Oh man, maybe I should’ve told her too. Damn being courteous and telling the truth. Which one am I supposed to side with?
Before I can make a decision, my boss Jake yells to me, “Parker, your shift’s up.” If there is a god out there, he certainly saved me from having to leave a bad impression on Isabel. I quickly run to the employee’s only section of the coffee shop, slip on my apron and punch in. When I step back outside (casually, of course) Isabel is gone and Alex is waiting for me.
“I’ll meet you at the end of your shift then?” Alex asks.
“Yeah. I hope I didn’t cause any trouble with Isabel,” I respond, attempting to talk to Alex and clean off the countless dirty tables. It amazes me that my coworkers are such bums. I can see Elaine behind the counter, filing her nails. I’m surprised Jake hasn’t fired her yet; by the way I’ve heard him talk about her in the break room-let’s just say her days are numbered.
“Nah. She’s sitting out in the car waiting, and if she doesn’t understand…poo on her shoes!” Alex jokes. I let a laugh emit from my lips and he jogs out of the restaurant to his girlfriend’s car. Hot damn, that woman has money! Now, I’m not a car person, but that car has all the right curves in all the right places…it had to be worth a lot of money.
My shift ends before I know it. Michael and Alex have both shown up and are waiting patiently, talking about guy stuff. After I’ve punched out, we go to the doctor’s office. The drive seems to take no more than five minutes. The office is located in the hospital on the first floor; so luckily, I don’t have to drag my fat ass up any of these stairs. I push through the glass doors separating the pregnancy waiting room and the hospital hallways. Once I’ve checked in, I glance around the waiting room. There’s a teenage girl, younger than I am, sitting with her parents. She looks about ready to go into labor. At least her parents haven’t abandoned her. They’re by her side through the pregnancy. Her mom has probably given her tips on being a mother and what hardships the girl will have to go through. I have to shut my eyes tight to make the tears go away.
When I open them again, the girl is gone, so I detour my thoughts to another patient. This one looks about the age I had hoped to be when I got pregnant. Next to her is a man whom I can only assume is her husband. He has his arm around her shoulder and he’s rubbing her arm with comfort. Once again, I have to look away from the scene unfolding before my eyes. Where is that man, that kind, gentle man that made love to me that night; that produced this baby?
That’s when it happened. It was for a mere millisecond. I saw a room littered with books and it was snowing outside. It was as if I was gazing at something from someone else’s eyes. But who, and was this my imagination running rapidly, wishing that somehow it was that man. It has to be due to the fact that I want him here so badly, so I’m making things up in my imagination.
I’m brought out of my thoughts by Michael’s hand insistently shaking my arm. “Earth to Liz! The doctor has been calling us for the past two minutes.”
I blush at the thought. I really have been letting my thoughts get the best of me lately. I’m not even living in the real world anymore; I’ve drifted into my thoughts and once I’m there, I can’t leave. I better stand up and walk to that waiting room before my thoughts get too out of control.
I enter the exam room and can’t help but glance at the stark, white room. The walls are white, the exam bed is white, the linoleum tiling is white, oh and, ironically the monitor is white. I chuckle at the thought. These people are really into unity.
”Communists,” I hear Michael mutter under his breath. He was obviously checking out the same thing I was. I had to control myself so I wouldn’t end up in a full fledged laugh-a-thon. You know what I’m talking about, the roll on the floor, gut wrenching, cheek hurting, non-stop laugh.
The nurse sits me on the bed and lifts my baggy shirt up. She smothers my belly with this nasty petroleum jelly. It doesn’t have the most pleasant scent and the goop is layered thickly on my stomach. She pulls out and instrument and goes into detail about what she’s going to be doing. The instrument is placed on my belly and the nurse gazes intently at the monitor, looking for the life formed inside of me. She slows down and I can sense that she’s near the baby. I look at the monitor and tears of happiness slide down my cheeks. This baby is mine; I helped create this tiny, precious child. She points out the arms, the legs, and the head. The baby looks so tiny in there, and so delicate. I hope I can protect the baby from any harm that may come its way for the rest of his life.
“Would you like to know the baby’s sex?” the nurse asks.
“Ok Liz, here’s the moment of truth. I say it’s a boy, you want to bet on it Alex? I say boy,” Michael says in a rush. If it’s possible, I think he’s more excited about the child’s gender than I am!
“Fifty bucks says it’s a girl,” Alex says, crossing his fingers.
The nurse laughs at the two children. Remind me again why I brought them along? Oh yeah, for moral support. I don’t see betting on my child’s gender as moral support.
“Well Liz, it looks like you’re going to have a baby boy,” the nurse says, grinning at Michael.
Alex puts his head down in a sulk. I think he just learned that crossing your fingers isn’t necessarily a sure fire way of getting lucky. He proceeds to pull out his wallet and fork over the fifty dollars. Michael has this ‘I told you so’ look on his face.
“Michael, you cheated,” I tell him. A week ago, I had this ‘feeling’ (for lack of a better term) that I was going to have a baby boy. Call it mother’s intuition, and more times than not, the mother is right. I tell Alex about the intuition and Alex looks like he’s about to get into a quarrel with Michael.
“Hey, you lost fair and square. We didn’t put any restrictions to the bet. Besides, Liz doesn’t know this yet, but the money’s going to her anyway…I’m going to get her something that doesn’t make her look so…big,” Michael says, with no attempt to lower his voice.
”Michael, I’m not deaf. You know how touchy women can get when they’re pregnant. If it was anyone else who said that I’d either burst into tears or beat the shit out of you. Now, one of these days I might just be in the mood for a good ass kicking, so pick your words carefully,” I say in a threatening tone. Damn, where’d all this bitchy-ness come from? I guess I had to open up that can of whoop ass on Michael.
“I said it sensitively,” Michael says, trying to defend himself against the crazy pregnant woman.
“Dude, it’s a lost cause, just drop it. You have the fifty dollars,” Alex says, trying to keep his laughter to a minimum.
In the meantime, the nurse has wiped the jelly off of my stomach and I pull the baggy shirt back over my stomach. The three of us leave the hospital room, Alex still laughing to himself, and Michael cursing his choice of words. I smile at the two men I love most in the world…next to that stranger of course. Even under these circumstances, the way he cherished me, held me, made love to me, I knew that he was the one. Why did I walk away from him though? If only I had stuck around another day…maybe things would be different now. Maybe it would’ve been him taking me to the appointment and him with his arm wrapped around me, rubbing my shoulder to ease the tension in the waiting room.
Instead, I’m stuck, hoping that tonight I have another one of those dreams, those wonderful dreams. Did I mention that he is in them? Usually his face is shadowed over; I’ve forgotten what his face looks like. The rest of his body though…that’s a different story.
The car ride home seems to go by quickly. I hardly remember when we dropped Alex off at the dorms or watching other cars whip past us as they leave for some hot new college keg party. When I do get home, I walk to my room and crash on the bed.
Immediately, I’m followed by the sensual dream. He walks up to me; this time we’re on the beach. It’d be pitch black if it weren’t for the moon and the stars illuminating the sand and making the ocean sparkle with more light. His hands immediately find mine and he brings them to his lips, cherishing each individual finger. When he’s finished making love to my fingers, his hands travel up my arms until they find the buttons to my blouse. He unbuttons each button, slowly, trying to make the moment last. Once he’s unbuttoned my blouse, his hands travel up to my shoulders and he proceeds to slide the blouse down my arms.
Before I know it, my bra is on the sand and his hands begin to shape my breasts. The dream is so real, and like reality, I’m pregnant. My breasts are extremely sensitive, and his ministrations were making me only more aroused.
“More,” I gasp, practically tearing his shirt off in the process, throwing it over his head. My hands retraced the muscular chest that I had explored so many times before in these dreams. Tonight there won’t be any fore play. I don’t think my sexual state at this time would allow it. We both reach for the button and zipper at our pants and rid ourselves of the confines in record timing.
“I love you, and our baby,” he said, stroking my belly. This was the first time I’d heard him talk in our dreams. Never in my life had I felt this unconditional love. I wanted to show him how much I cared. We rid each other of our underwear, our hands disobeying our idle thoughts.
He lay down on the sand first, hoping that I would follow. I knelt down, knowing that at this particular stage of the pregnancy, there would be no missionary positions. I lowered my pussy onto his engorged penis and began to take him for a ride. His hands found their way to my breasts again, and he gently massaged them, only adding to the stimulation from my southern regions. It didn’t take much for me to cum, but when I did I saw the stars, again. Not the stars that I could see from a vantage point on the beach, but the stars from outer space. It was strange and exhilarating at the same time.
Regretfully, we parted. I woke up in a cold sweat and I knew one thing: it was time for another midnight cold shower.
Author's Note: Bah, don't hurt me. I still haven't done the new chapter. I'm going to be lucky if I can get those two chapters in before break. This weekend looks to be a little hectic as I have 3 projects/essays to do and a party to host (you didn't hear it from me though; the folks are out of town). I think if I manage my time well, I can get my homework done and get Chapter 6 out on or before Sunday. Thank you for all the posts (sorry, but I have no time to respond individually, although I wish I did!).
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Effluent Elegance
- Enthusiastic Roswellian
- Posts: 19
- Joined: Tue Dec 02, 2003 6:25 pm
- Location: Wisconsin
Chapter 6
Life has progressed; the dreams continued to become more and more intense as the pregnancy approaches its end. The doctor says I’m due next month, April. I can’t believe I let life get away from me so easily. With all the work that I’ve been doing lately, I’ve hardly had time to sit and contemplate life. First semester finals were a pain (trying to balance homework and my job at the coffee house), but somehow I managed to pull through with a 3.9 GPA. Michael always said I was the studious one. Michael, by the way, has been doing excellent at the Los Angeles Art Institute! I’m so proud of him (look at me I’m starting to act like a mother already). He has these amazing murals painted on the walls of our apartment now, and all I can say is “Wow!”
Some are abstract, while others are portraits. In my bedroom he painted a portrait of me. The day he painted it, I was sitting in a rocking chair, rubbing my belly, attempting to coax the baby into a kick. Michael had been sitting nearby with his hand firmly planted on my belly. He wasn’t going to let go until the baby kicked. Needless to say, he ended up staying there for quite a few hours until my baby boy finally kicked him. He said the moment the baby kicked he had an artistic ‘vision.’ It was a pain in the ass, but for another couple hours I sat in the chair with my hands on my belly. Now, the memory is painted on the wall.
During my absence, Michael, Alex, and Isabel forced me to go to a mall! Yes, I finally admitted to Isabel that I was pregnant. A few months ago, the green eyed monster emerged. Could you believe she thought I was having some sort of an affair with Alex? Don’t get me wrong, Alex is a marvelous guy, but I could never see him like that! Every excuse I told Isabel, she wouldn’t believe. Thus, I was forced to tell her the truth; once she found out, she was supportive and compassionate. It wasn’t long before she was ordering a shopping excursion. Who would’ve known that Isabel was the Fashion Nazi? She made Michael and Alex tag along, after all, what’s a shopping trip without someone’s credit card?
Now, I have to admit, the trip was a little offending at first. What was so wrong with hiding my condition? I suppose I should stop calling it a condition. It’s not contagious or upsetting. In fact, I should be happy and proud that I’m going to be a new mom! I’m a bit younger than I thought I would be when I had my first child, and it can be assumed that the baby will be born a bastard child, but I will make the best out of this situation.
We started out with simple stores. Isabel helped me pick outfits that would flatter my figure and gave me general rules to follow. For one, she told me that I was one who could flaunt my belly. My stomach has gotten quite large, but since I haven’t gained any excess weight, simple maternity clothes can hug my figure in all the right places. If this girl isn’t a fashion major, then she isn’t following her calling! Now that I look at the clothes, her rules finally click. We bought enough clothes to last me through the pregnancy and then we “had to stop at Victoria’s Secret,” as Isabel phrased it. She picked out some lingerie for herself, and me? I didn’t understand why I needed such frivolous items. I wasn’t going to bed anyone, especially with a baby on the way. At the end of our shopping day, the total came to $400; more than half the money came from Victoria’s Secret, obviously Isabel is a huge fan.
When I returned to college wearing the maternity clothing (which took a lot of courage, mind you), I had a couple compliments. People were congratulating me on the pregnancy and confessing that they never knew I had a child. I guess that’s how big city life works – no gossiping behind my back, just genuine kindness towards me. If this were Roswell, word would spread fast and my friends, except for Michael, would no longer be my friends. That was then, this is now.
Today, I’m sitting on the couch watching Oprah. Hey, this mother business has taken on a new meaning. I refuse to miss a single episode of Oprah and I try to catch Dr. Phil as often as I can, although I have to admit I’m not a religious fan of his like I am for Oprah’s show. Did you know that this couch does wonders on the back, just as the coffee table does wonders for my feet and legs? Oh and this belly makes a perfect table for my popcorn bowl.
Five minutes into the show I’m interrupted by the doorbell. With my mouth stuffed with popcorn, I miraculously manage to yell out, “COME IN!” Who do you suppose bursts through the doors, but Maria DeLuca! Great, now I’m torn between Oprah and someone I haven’t seen since August. Ok, I can watch Oprah any other day. Today, I’m going to welcome my visitor.
“Oh, don’t get up!” Maria says. “I want you to stay as comfortable as possible! Oh, I love you’re new clothes! I can only hope I’m as trendy as you when I’m pregnant with my first child, which I’m not, by the way. Anyway, I’ve come with a surprise, but after I give you your present, you have to tell me all the details of the pregnancy!” Maria was so excited. With her last words, she places her hand upon my belly and shrieks with delight, “He kicked!” I definitely missed all this encouragement over the past few months.
“Maria, whatever this gift is, you really shouldn’t have. Whatever you have to give me, I can’t accept,” I whine.
“Come on in!” Maria screams.
“What the…oh my god, Mom.” My words come out flat. What? I can’t help it; she’s the one who kicked me out of the house, right? Well, technically she wasn’t, but she was a cohort in this mess. So that leaves me to this question: What the fuck is she doing in my apartment?
“Oh honey, you look absolutely radiant,” she says to me. Why doesn’t she seem to understand? I’m no longer her daughter. Why is she saying these hurtful things? Why is she moving closer to me and hugging me on the couch. Why am I hugging her back? What the shit is going on here? “If you’ll let me, I’d like to be here for you for the next couple of months. I want to see my grandchild’s birth. Have you gotten proper health care?” Just like a mother to ask such a goofy question. Please don’t let me turn out like her! A mother who couldn’t even stand up for her child and then all of a sudden believes that she can step back into my life without there being any wounds to show for it.
“Yes,” is the only word that comes out of my mouth. I end the hug and stare at the TV. Well, this is why Oprah was so important to me today! They are showcasing single moms and their success. One woman has built up her own law firm and apparently has enough time to dedicate to her child. All this I get from listening to the show for thirty seconds. It’s a gift, I guess.
“Honey, you’re father disowned you.” Way to make me feel better mom. “That doesn’t mean I’ve disowned you. When I found out I was surprised. I couldn’t imagine that you were pregnant. After all, you’re my little girl; my only girl. I needed to let it sink in for a while and then I would come around. You’re father and I fought about his decision to disown you for months. Finally, I talked to Maria and begged her to find you and bring you to me or vice-versa. I love you with all of my heart. I just wished that you would’ve come to me if you wanted to become sexually involved with someone. That’s in the past now. Today and tomorrow I want to help you with your new baby. Now, tell me, is it a boy or is it a girl?”
”It’s a boy. I haven’t decided upon a name yet. Oh and mom? Thank you.” I don’t exactly specify what I’m thanking her for. Maybe it was her explanation; maybe her visit here; to tell you the truth, I don’t exactly know myself. We hug again and these damn hormones cause tears to form in my eyes. Don’t fall, don’t fall; damn it all! They fell. What a predicament I’m in now. Do I let her see my tears? Ah well, she’s seen me in worse circumstances; or has she?
<center>* * *</center>
There he is; my dream man is approaching me. Where am I? Snow is falling all around me, but there are no clouds. The sky and all its stars are exposed to me and this stranger. This dream is so much more intense than those before it.
The man walks until he is arms length away. It looks as though he is about to sweep me up into his arms and make love to me, but I stop him. What? I’m a woman; I need some emotional attachment to this guy that doesn’t center around our sexual attachment. “What’s your name?”
I’ve never heard his voice before. When he speaks, his voice is raspy and deep. “Max.” His voice alone makes my heart skip a beat. Who would’ve known that his voice could make my entire being soar. Before I’ve realized what’s happened, we’re making out and ripping each other’s clothes off. Well, I never knew pregnancy hormones could make me so horny.
He pushes himself into me and I scream out his name. He smirks at his handy work and continues to thrust until we both reach our climax.
Suddenly, everything begins to fade from my view; the ground beneath me, the snow, the stars, and finally Max. I jerk awake and start panting. That was the most intense dream I’ve ever had! I swear I could feel the touch of his skin, the feel of him inside of me; just like the night where we first made love. Oh shut up Liz, he’s a figment of your imagination. You only had sex with him once; there was no making love, no matter how much I know you’d like to believe it.
I take a few deep breaths. I start to move to sit up in bed. I’d given up on cold showers a long time ago. My belly was starting to get too heavy to carry. I try to walk around the house as often as I can, but my back is aching by the time I’ve completed my rounds. A month ago I quit my job. That’s when I started to have back problems. My doctor said I should do some simple exercises and even recommended this special pillow for me. Both have helped, but at this point I think it’s best that I stay off of my feet until the baby comes.
My baby boy is kicking more than usual right now. Oh shit. Something is running down my legs. My water broke. My water broke. My. Water. Broke. I’m going into labor? I’m going into labor. I open my mouth, but all that comes out is a tiny squeal. I try again and this time it projects further and louder. Michael is the first to come rushing into my room, followed by Maria, and, not far behind, my mother.
“I think I’m going into labor.” Surprisingly it comes out calmly. Now that my voice is working, my brain is doing overtime; what the hell I’m going to do? I can’t possibly be ready to give birth yet. I’m simply not ready for this. Eight months of carrying this baby boy and you would think that I would be ready to pop him out. I’m only 19; I can’t give birth to a newborn yet. My mom was 29 when she had me. She turned out wonderful; a little submissive, but wonderful none-the-less. Will I live up to her standards? Ok, ok, I have to get going now or this baby boy is going to be born in the car, or the apartment. Not exactly what I had in mind.
The car ride to the hospital happens in a blur. Before I know it, Maria is shouting hysterically at the head nurse. She’s saying that I need a room pronto because this baby isn’t going to wait. Hopefully she’s right because these contractions are getting more painful and more frequent. Michael is in the process of instructing me to do the stereotypical “woman in labor” breathing technique. This may work for some women, but it’s not doing anything for me. My mother is pacing back and forth in front of me. It’s making me a little nervous, but before I can even complain someone is hoisting me into a wheelchair and rushing me to a room.
Time passes by slowly and the contractions begin to get closer and closer together. The nurses are waiting for me to become fully dilated before they begin. In the meantime they’ve given me some pain relievers. It’s been nearly three hours since my water broke and I feel like I’m in hell. I can’t imagine how some women do it. They are so brave; so brave.
“The baby is coming, now. Get the doctor.” How can she say it like a statement? GET THE DOCTOR! Oh no, I’m not going to be able to stretch far enough to let this baby pop out. He’s going to be too big for me. What if something happens to me? What if my baby boy has to grow up without a mother or a father? I can’t let him live an orphan’s life. I have to be strong for him.
“Elizabeth, you have to push for me. Do you think you can do that? Give it a big push.” The doctor’s instructions are almost soothing, but the instant I start pushing, it’s anything but a soothing experience. “Only a couple more. That’s it, you’re almost there. One more and you’re on your way to a healthy new born baby boy.”
I don’t know if I have any more in me. What if he dies, what if this baby doesn’t make it because I chickened out in the home run? Suddenly, I’m not in the hospital anymore. Is this a daydream? This has never happened before (daydreams, I mean). Usually this only happens at night. There he is. He knows I am having his child. He knows that I need him here for me now. He’s holding my hand and I’m squeezing it with all my might. He whispers soothing words into my ear. I give it one last push for him, not realizing that I was screaming his name in the midst of the hospital room. Max.
AN: Ah, you're probably going to all hate me for this, but I was looking for clothes in my dresser this morning and somehow the disk happened to be located under all my shirts. So all this time I thought it was hundreds of miles away and it was lying in my dresser. Good thing I haven't done laundry in a while because I don't know if I would've found it if I had. Anyway, sorry for the LONG awaited chapter 6.
Life has progressed; the dreams continued to become more and more intense as the pregnancy approaches its end. The doctor says I’m due next month, April. I can’t believe I let life get away from me so easily. With all the work that I’ve been doing lately, I’ve hardly had time to sit and contemplate life. First semester finals were a pain (trying to balance homework and my job at the coffee house), but somehow I managed to pull through with a 3.9 GPA. Michael always said I was the studious one. Michael, by the way, has been doing excellent at the Los Angeles Art Institute! I’m so proud of him (look at me I’m starting to act like a mother already). He has these amazing murals painted on the walls of our apartment now, and all I can say is “Wow!”
Some are abstract, while others are portraits. In my bedroom he painted a portrait of me. The day he painted it, I was sitting in a rocking chair, rubbing my belly, attempting to coax the baby into a kick. Michael had been sitting nearby with his hand firmly planted on my belly. He wasn’t going to let go until the baby kicked. Needless to say, he ended up staying there for quite a few hours until my baby boy finally kicked him. He said the moment the baby kicked he had an artistic ‘vision.’ It was a pain in the ass, but for another couple hours I sat in the chair with my hands on my belly. Now, the memory is painted on the wall.
During my absence, Michael, Alex, and Isabel forced me to go to a mall! Yes, I finally admitted to Isabel that I was pregnant. A few months ago, the green eyed monster emerged. Could you believe she thought I was having some sort of an affair with Alex? Don’t get me wrong, Alex is a marvelous guy, but I could never see him like that! Every excuse I told Isabel, she wouldn’t believe. Thus, I was forced to tell her the truth; once she found out, she was supportive and compassionate. It wasn’t long before she was ordering a shopping excursion. Who would’ve known that Isabel was the Fashion Nazi? She made Michael and Alex tag along, after all, what’s a shopping trip without someone’s credit card?
Now, I have to admit, the trip was a little offending at first. What was so wrong with hiding my condition? I suppose I should stop calling it a condition. It’s not contagious or upsetting. In fact, I should be happy and proud that I’m going to be a new mom! I’m a bit younger than I thought I would be when I had my first child, and it can be assumed that the baby will be born a bastard child, but I will make the best out of this situation.
We started out with simple stores. Isabel helped me pick outfits that would flatter my figure and gave me general rules to follow. For one, she told me that I was one who could flaunt my belly. My stomach has gotten quite large, but since I haven’t gained any excess weight, simple maternity clothes can hug my figure in all the right places. If this girl isn’t a fashion major, then she isn’t following her calling! Now that I look at the clothes, her rules finally click. We bought enough clothes to last me through the pregnancy and then we “had to stop at Victoria’s Secret,” as Isabel phrased it. She picked out some lingerie for herself, and me? I didn’t understand why I needed such frivolous items. I wasn’t going to bed anyone, especially with a baby on the way. At the end of our shopping day, the total came to $400; more than half the money came from Victoria’s Secret, obviously Isabel is a huge fan.
When I returned to college wearing the maternity clothing (which took a lot of courage, mind you), I had a couple compliments. People were congratulating me on the pregnancy and confessing that they never knew I had a child. I guess that’s how big city life works – no gossiping behind my back, just genuine kindness towards me. If this were Roswell, word would spread fast and my friends, except for Michael, would no longer be my friends. That was then, this is now.
Today, I’m sitting on the couch watching Oprah. Hey, this mother business has taken on a new meaning. I refuse to miss a single episode of Oprah and I try to catch Dr. Phil as often as I can, although I have to admit I’m not a religious fan of his like I am for Oprah’s show. Did you know that this couch does wonders on the back, just as the coffee table does wonders for my feet and legs? Oh and this belly makes a perfect table for my popcorn bowl.
Five minutes into the show I’m interrupted by the doorbell. With my mouth stuffed with popcorn, I miraculously manage to yell out, “COME IN!” Who do you suppose bursts through the doors, but Maria DeLuca! Great, now I’m torn between Oprah and someone I haven’t seen since August. Ok, I can watch Oprah any other day. Today, I’m going to welcome my visitor.
“Oh, don’t get up!” Maria says. “I want you to stay as comfortable as possible! Oh, I love you’re new clothes! I can only hope I’m as trendy as you when I’m pregnant with my first child, which I’m not, by the way. Anyway, I’ve come with a surprise, but after I give you your present, you have to tell me all the details of the pregnancy!” Maria was so excited. With her last words, she places her hand upon my belly and shrieks with delight, “He kicked!” I definitely missed all this encouragement over the past few months.
“Maria, whatever this gift is, you really shouldn’t have. Whatever you have to give me, I can’t accept,” I whine.
“Come on in!” Maria screams.
“What the…oh my god, Mom.” My words come out flat. What? I can’t help it; she’s the one who kicked me out of the house, right? Well, technically she wasn’t, but she was a cohort in this mess. So that leaves me to this question: What the fuck is she doing in my apartment?
“Oh honey, you look absolutely radiant,” she says to me. Why doesn’t she seem to understand? I’m no longer her daughter. Why is she saying these hurtful things? Why is she moving closer to me and hugging me on the couch. Why am I hugging her back? What the shit is going on here? “If you’ll let me, I’d like to be here for you for the next couple of months. I want to see my grandchild’s birth. Have you gotten proper health care?” Just like a mother to ask such a goofy question. Please don’t let me turn out like her! A mother who couldn’t even stand up for her child and then all of a sudden believes that she can step back into my life without there being any wounds to show for it.
“Yes,” is the only word that comes out of my mouth. I end the hug and stare at the TV. Well, this is why Oprah was so important to me today! They are showcasing single moms and their success. One woman has built up her own law firm and apparently has enough time to dedicate to her child. All this I get from listening to the show for thirty seconds. It’s a gift, I guess.
“Honey, you’re father disowned you.” Way to make me feel better mom. “That doesn’t mean I’ve disowned you. When I found out I was surprised. I couldn’t imagine that you were pregnant. After all, you’re my little girl; my only girl. I needed to let it sink in for a while and then I would come around. You’re father and I fought about his decision to disown you for months. Finally, I talked to Maria and begged her to find you and bring you to me or vice-versa. I love you with all of my heart. I just wished that you would’ve come to me if you wanted to become sexually involved with someone. That’s in the past now. Today and tomorrow I want to help you with your new baby. Now, tell me, is it a boy or is it a girl?”
”It’s a boy. I haven’t decided upon a name yet. Oh and mom? Thank you.” I don’t exactly specify what I’m thanking her for. Maybe it was her explanation; maybe her visit here; to tell you the truth, I don’t exactly know myself. We hug again and these damn hormones cause tears to form in my eyes. Don’t fall, don’t fall; damn it all! They fell. What a predicament I’m in now. Do I let her see my tears? Ah well, she’s seen me in worse circumstances; or has she?
<center>* * *</center>
There he is; my dream man is approaching me. Where am I? Snow is falling all around me, but there are no clouds. The sky and all its stars are exposed to me and this stranger. This dream is so much more intense than those before it.
The man walks until he is arms length away. It looks as though he is about to sweep me up into his arms and make love to me, but I stop him. What? I’m a woman; I need some emotional attachment to this guy that doesn’t center around our sexual attachment. “What’s your name?”
I’ve never heard his voice before. When he speaks, his voice is raspy and deep. “Max.” His voice alone makes my heart skip a beat. Who would’ve known that his voice could make my entire being soar. Before I’ve realized what’s happened, we’re making out and ripping each other’s clothes off. Well, I never knew pregnancy hormones could make me so horny.
He pushes himself into me and I scream out his name. He smirks at his handy work and continues to thrust until we both reach our climax.
Suddenly, everything begins to fade from my view; the ground beneath me, the snow, the stars, and finally Max. I jerk awake and start panting. That was the most intense dream I’ve ever had! I swear I could feel the touch of his skin, the feel of him inside of me; just like the night where we first made love. Oh shut up Liz, he’s a figment of your imagination. You only had sex with him once; there was no making love, no matter how much I know you’d like to believe it.
I take a few deep breaths. I start to move to sit up in bed. I’d given up on cold showers a long time ago. My belly was starting to get too heavy to carry. I try to walk around the house as often as I can, but my back is aching by the time I’ve completed my rounds. A month ago I quit my job. That’s when I started to have back problems. My doctor said I should do some simple exercises and even recommended this special pillow for me. Both have helped, but at this point I think it’s best that I stay off of my feet until the baby comes.
My baby boy is kicking more than usual right now. Oh shit. Something is running down my legs. My water broke. My water broke. My. Water. Broke. I’m going into labor? I’m going into labor. I open my mouth, but all that comes out is a tiny squeal. I try again and this time it projects further and louder. Michael is the first to come rushing into my room, followed by Maria, and, not far behind, my mother.
“I think I’m going into labor.” Surprisingly it comes out calmly. Now that my voice is working, my brain is doing overtime; what the hell I’m going to do? I can’t possibly be ready to give birth yet. I’m simply not ready for this. Eight months of carrying this baby boy and you would think that I would be ready to pop him out. I’m only 19; I can’t give birth to a newborn yet. My mom was 29 when she had me. She turned out wonderful; a little submissive, but wonderful none-the-less. Will I live up to her standards? Ok, ok, I have to get going now or this baby boy is going to be born in the car, or the apartment. Not exactly what I had in mind.
The car ride to the hospital happens in a blur. Before I know it, Maria is shouting hysterically at the head nurse. She’s saying that I need a room pronto because this baby isn’t going to wait. Hopefully she’s right because these contractions are getting more painful and more frequent. Michael is in the process of instructing me to do the stereotypical “woman in labor” breathing technique. This may work for some women, but it’s not doing anything for me. My mother is pacing back and forth in front of me. It’s making me a little nervous, but before I can even complain someone is hoisting me into a wheelchair and rushing me to a room.
Time passes by slowly and the contractions begin to get closer and closer together. The nurses are waiting for me to become fully dilated before they begin. In the meantime they’ve given me some pain relievers. It’s been nearly three hours since my water broke and I feel like I’m in hell. I can’t imagine how some women do it. They are so brave; so brave.
“The baby is coming, now. Get the doctor.” How can she say it like a statement? GET THE DOCTOR! Oh no, I’m not going to be able to stretch far enough to let this baby pop out. He’s going to be too big for me. What if something happens to me? What if my baby boy has to grow up without a mother or a father? I can’t let him live an orphan’s life. I have to be strong for him.
“Elizabeth, you have to push for me. Do you think you can do that? Give it a big push.” The doctor’s instructions are almost soothing, but the instant I start pushing, it’s anything but a soothing experience. “Only a couple more. That’s it, you’re almost there. One more and you’re on your way to a healthy new born baby boy.”
I don’t know if I have any more in me. What if he dies, what if this baby doesn’t make it because I chickened out in the home run? Suddenly, I’m not in the hospital anymore. Is this a daydream? This has never happened before (daydreams, I mean). Usually this only happens at night. There he is. He knows I am having his child. He knows that I need him here for me now. He’s holding my hand and I’m squeezing it with all my might. He whispers soothing words into my ear. I give it one last push for him, not realizing that I was screaming his name in the midst of the hospital room. Max.
AN: Ah, you're probably going to all hate me for this, but I was looking for clothes in my dresser this morning and somehow the disk happened to be located under all my shirts. So all this time I thought it was hundreds of miles away and it was lying in my dresser. Good thing I haven't done laundry in a while because I don't know if I would've found it if I had. Anyway, sorry for the LONG awaited chapter 6.
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Effluent Elegance
- Enthusiastic Roswellian
- Posts: 19
- Joined: Tue Dec 02, 2003 6:25 pm
- Location: Wisconsin
Chapter 7
<center>Chapter 7</center>
Max. She said my name; I could hear it in my sleep. It was a piercing sound that caused a chill to travel up and down my spine. I’ve been having dreams about her for the past eight months – ever since that night we slept together. I can’t help but wonder if the dreams are merely a figment of my imagination (my mind trying to rationalize problems I won’t deal with during waking hours) or if it has to deal with my special powers.
About a year ago I was on vacation with my sister, or at least that’s what we told our parents. We were born and raised in a small town outside of Phoenix, Arizona. Our parents are foster parents to us. Isabel, my sister, and I believe that we’re from outer space, which in itself is outrageous. How could we barely be 20 years old and originate from the Roswell crash? We were hoping we could figure out the answers on our trip to Roswell, New Mexico. We only had one clue to go on. When we hatched out of incubation pods, there were three of us. Isabel and I were two, but there was another small boy with spiky hair.
While at one of the dive restaurants, we swore that we saw the guy, so we followed him around town until we wound up at some club – Alienation something or other. While I was at the club I got a little distracted. Isabel told me to take a break from all the sleuth work (apparently I didn’t let her discover some things on her own, so she decided to check up on this guy). At first I wasn’t sure what to do; everyone was up against the wall or grinding mad-style on the dance floor. Then, I saw her. She was a petite brunette with a slender frame. I didn’t say anything for fear that she would determine I was one of the Roswell aliens. Only now do I realize that I was a bit paranoid in the presence of the beauty before me. Needless to say, I got caught up in the moment.
Before I realized what was going on, she led me to a room upstairs and we had hot alien sex. It was the most wonderful experience in all of my life. Something inside of me said that she and I fit perfectly; something that said we were soul mates. Could it be? For some reason, I felt comfortable around her, so I let things progress. I didn’t think they would progress as far as they did though. Before I knew it we had reached the point of culmination. I was dying to talk to her about what had just happened; perhaps I would apologize for my cave-like behavior. Then, I realized that she had fallen asleep. The caveman in me grunted in happiness; I satiated this woman to the brink of exhaustion. Still, another part of me, my superego, was screaming at me for letting the situation get out of hand. How would this affect her? I am an alien. Maybe nothing out of the ordinary would occur. After all, to my recollection, we used a condom, didn’t we? Before I could think about it any longer I cuddled next to her and inhaled the beautiful strawberry scent emanating from her hair.
The next morning was a blur. The first thing I remember was the door slamming shut. I’m not exactly a morning person, so I rolled around in bed for a while. When I finally became aware of my surroundings, I realized what happened the night before. I reached over for the space next to me and ascertained that the beautiful brunette vanished from the bed. I got up, rubbed my eyes, and walked around the room while grabbing my underwear and pants off the floor. When I realized that she left, I ran out the door and to the street below. I looked both ways. She was gone! Where did she go? We were supposed to have a talk, or just talk about what happened between us. Did she use me? Stereotypically the male uses the female. It all seemed so foreign to me. It was almost as if a piece was torn out of me. I thought we had a connection from the deeds of the previous night.
On my way back into the building to gather the rest of my belongings, I ran into Isabel.
“And where in the hell have you been? Do you realize that I have been looking for you all night?” Isabel looked at me inquisitively. “Oh. My. God. You fucked her, didn’t you? Max, do you realize what you could have done? We don’t know what could happen when aliens mate. What if she’s more susceptible to alien sperm than to human sperm?”
“Ok, getting the sex talk from my sister? Not exactly my idea of a safe sex lecture. I have dad for that. Besides, she ran off.”
“So that instantly makes everything better?” Isabel screamed. “What if she is an FBI agent? She could secretly want to impregnate herself so that she can poke and prod at your offspring. What do you think about that? Or were you thinking at all?”
“Isabel, obviously you were looking for me for some other reason. Cut the sermon already. Don’t you think I know all the risks involved?”
“If you knew all the risks involved you wouldn’t have fucked her!”
Trying to draw attention away from the scene Isabel was making, I lead her to the room that the brunette and I shared our first love making session in. I had to get the rest of my clothes if we were going to get out of this joint. Maybe I could find her afterwards in town somewhere. It wasn’t as if Roswell was a big town by any means. In fact, it was the smallest town I had ever been to.
“Can’t we deal with this later Isabel? What was the news you had to break to me that was life or death?” I said as I gathered my shirt. That was when I noticed them lying on the floor. Her underwear. Now, don’t think I’m a pervert, but it’s the only thing I have to remember the most beautiful night of my life. I stuffed them in my pocket covertly while Isabel rambled on.
“I followed the spiky haired guy around last night and through the locals I found out his name is Michael Guerin. I was told that he will be moving to Los Angeles to participate at a prestigious art school. Our guy seems to be quite talented. I picked up one of his drawings from a townie. You wouldn’t believe what it’s a picture of…a geodesic dome. You remember where we’ve dealt with such a dome before, right?”
That got my attention. “Atherton.”
“That right! We have to keep close tabs on this Michael guy. I’ll tell mom and dad that I’ve chosen UCLA next year. That should get me closer to Michael.”
“So you’re going to be hanging around Michael while I’m in Cambridge, Massachusetts?” I, of course, was referring to Harvard. I had just received my acceptance letter, which was why my parents let me go on this sudden vacation with Isabel. I replied as soon as possible with my answer; yes. “I don’t like the sound of you following this guy. If he’s anything like us, he is going to be suspicious. And if you push yourself on him too quickly he could hurt you for fear you’re an agent or an evil alien. Remember all of the shit we’ve been put through the last few years?”
It was a miracle I was even going to Harvard. Half of my time I was trying to protect myself from the human race. The FBI was always trying to figure out who we were. Ever since we emerged from our pods, our entire existence was a mystery that the government had to observe closely. We had to kill a few agents along the way, which only led to the appearance of more at a faster rate. Isabel and I eventually made an executive decision not to use our powers unless we were in a life or death situation. It has diminished some of our abilities, but it has, consequently, mad the FBI less suspicious. We finally appear as if we’re normal kids to these agents. In the transition period from protecting our hides, we’ve become a part of a popular group of friends, none of which were near and dear to our hearts. Sometimes it’s odd because all Isabel and I have is ourselves, which is why we went on this crusade to find Michael. We know it’s dangerous, and apparent to the FBI, if they find us, that we’re up to no good. Two teenagers on vacation in Roswell, New Mexico; who ever heard of such a thing? This brings me back to the banter between Isabel and me.
“Max, we’ve been working together for our whole lives. I’ve picked up just as many tricks as you have in the trade. If anything happens, remember what we promised each other? I’ll contact you through a dream walk or otherwise. Perhaps it would ease your mind if I started doing dream interventions periodically. Say, twice a month?”
“Ok, Isabel, but if you get any suspicious activity by you…we don’t want agents on our tails again. It would definitely ease my mind knowing you’re safe, especially since we will be on opposite sides of the country. Now come on, let’s go get breakfast.”
Needless to say, I never saw the petite brunette again. At least I didn’t see her in reality. She started to visit my dreams shortly after Isabel and I left Roswell. Her name is Liz in my dreams. The way her name rolls off her sensuous lips is music to my ears. Each dream I’ve tried to memorize with all my heart and soul. As the dreams progress, I learn she is pregnant, with my child. It worries me to think that she could be carrying an alien within her swollen belly. Would she know how to care for it? Would she know what to do? Despite my worries I didn’t inform her that I was an alien. I think I was afraid of rejection, but now I fear that the baby’s identity could hurt Liz or hurt himself. What if the FBI learns of the predicament and comes after Liz? I don’t think I could bear the pain inflicted upon anyone else because of me. It’s weird; I’ve learned more about Liz from the dreams than from any other source. I’m not even sure if they are real. They could still be a figment of my wild imagination with a pinch of paranoia after being watched by agents. I’ve lived a life where I have always had to look behind my shoulder and I wouldn’t wish that life upon anyone. If Liz, or my (imaginary) son were to live this life, I couldn’t live with myself.
For months I have been between dreams. Most of the time, I get dreams of Liz and her growing tummy. For the remainder amount of time I get messages from Isabel telling me how things are going. Thankfully, they are going well; she has befriended Michael’s best friend, a female. Isabel seems to think she can use the girl to get to Michael, but it will be a long process, as she wants to make the female think that she is friends with the girl, not friends with the girl to get to the guy.
Between the dreams and school work, the year has blown by faster than a hurricane. I’m nearing my final exam when I receive my last dream from Liz. She is in a hospital when she screams my name. I can’t see faces, but there are three people standing around her. A man is holding her hand as she squeezes it in terror. In the background there is a female and a male; who they are is unbeknownst to me. I’m seeing everything as if it were a movie, only it isn’t a movie. It’s real. I can smell the sterile hospital smell and see everything from a birdseye view. She is having a baby and I am watching the entire process.
When I am finally pulled back into reality, I’m gasping for air. There’s one thing for certain. “I need to find Liz…and my baby boy.”
Author's Note: I had already started Chapter 7, when I had an idea...why not incorporate a Max POV into the story. Naturally, I couldn't think of a better place to put it in, as the last word in chapter 6 was 'Max.' So, luckily, I've been inspired by creativity to pump out some chapters for you. Because I started the next Liz part previously, Chapter 8 (previously 7) will be out as soon as I have time to write it. As this is my final year of high school, I have a pretty open summer, which means lots of time for writing. I'm going to try and write as much as possible before it's time to begin my first year of college in September. Anyway...I hope you all enjoyed the part.
Max. She said my name; I could hear it in my sleep. It was a piercing sound that caused a chill to travel up and down my spine. I’ve been having dreams about her for the past eight months – ever since that night we slept together. I can’t help but wonder if the dreams are merely a figment of my imagination (my mind trying to rationalize problems I won’t deal with during waking hours) or if it has to deal with my special powers.
About a year ago I was on vacation with my sister, or at least that’s what we told our parents. We were born and raised in a small town outside of Phoenix, Arizona. Our parents are foster parents to us. Isabel, my sister, and I believe that we’re from outer space, which in itself is outrageous. How could we barely be 20 years old and originate from the Roswell crash? We were hoping we could figure out the answers on our trip to Roswell, New Mexico. We only had one clue to go on. When we hatched out of incubation pods, there were three of us. Isabel and I were two, but there was another small boy with spiky hair.
While at one of the dive restaurants, we swore that we saw the guy, so we followed him around town until we wound up at some club – Alienation something or other. While I was at the club I got a little distracted. Isabel told me to take a break from all the sleuth work (apparently I didn’t let her discover some things on her own, so she decided to check up on this guy). At first I wasn’t sure what to do; everyone was up against the wall or grinding mad-style on the dance floor. Then, I saw her. She was a petite brunette with a slender frame. I didn’t say anything for fear that she would determine I was one of the Roswell aliens. Only now do I realize that I was a bit paranoid in the presence of the beauty before me. Needless to say, I got caught up in the moment.
Before I realized what was going on, she led me to a room upstairs and we had hot alien sex. It was the most wonderful experience in all of my life. Something inside of me said that she and I fit perfectly; something that said we were soul mates. Could it be? For some reason, I felt comfortable around her, so I let things progress. I didn’t think they would progress as far as they did though. Before I knew it we had reached the point of culmination. I was dying to talk to her about what had just happened; perhaps I would apologize for my cave-like behavior. Then, I realized that she had fallen asleep. The caveman in me grunted in happiness; I satiated this woman to the brink of exhaustion. Still, another part of me, my superego, was screaming at me for letting the situation get out of hand. How would this affect her? I am an alien. Maybe nothing out of the ordinary would occur. After all, to my recollection, we used a condom, didn’t we? Before I could think about it any longer I cuddled next to her and inhaled the beautiful strawberry scent emanating from her hair.
The next morning was a blur. The first thing I remember was the door slamming shut. I’m not exactly a morning person, so I rolled around in bed for a while. When I finally became aware of my surroundings, I realized what happened the night before. I reached over for the space next to me and ascertained that the beautiful brunette vanished from the bed. I got up, rubbed my eyes, and walked around the room while grabbing my underwear and pants off the floor. When I realized that she left, I ran out the door and to the street below. I looked both ways. She was gone! Where did she go? We were supposed to have a talk, or just talk about what happened between us. Did she use me? Stereotypically the male uses the female. It all seemed so foreign to me. It was almost as if a piece was torn out of me. I thought we had a connection from the deeds of the previous night.
On my way back into the building to gather the rest of my belongings, I ran into Isabel.
“And where in the hell have you been? Do you realize that I have been looking for you all night?” Isabel looked at me inquisitively. “Oh. My. God. You fucked her, didn’t you? Max, do you realize what you could have done? We don’t know what could happen when aliens mate. What if she’s more susceptible to alien sperm than to human sperm?”
“Ok, getting the sex talk from my sister? Not exactly my idea of a safe sex lecture. I have dad for that. Besides, she ran off.”
“So that instantly makes everything better?” Isabel screamed. “What if she is an FBI agent? She could secretly want to impregnate herself so that she can poke and prod at your offspring. What do you think about that? Or were you thinking at all?”
“Isabel, obviously you were looking for me for some other reason. Cut the sermon already. Don’t you think I know all the risks involved?”
“If you knew all the risks involved you wouldn’t have fucked her!”
Trying to draw attention away from the scene Isabel was making, I lead her to the room that the brunette and I shared our first love making session in. I had to get the rest of my clothes if we were going to get out of this joint. Maybe I could find her afterwards in town somewhere. It wasn’t as if Roswell was a big town by any means. In fact, it was the smallest town I had ever been to.
“Can’t we deal with this later Isabel? What was the news you had to break to me that was life or death?” I said as I gathered my shirt. That was when I noticed them lying on the floor. Her underwear. Now, don’t think I’m a pervert, but it’s the only thing I have to remember the most beautiful night of my life. I stuffed them in my pocket covertly while Isabel rambled on.
“I followed the spiky haired guy around last night and through the locals I found out his name is Michael Guerin. I was told that he will be moving to Los Angeles to participate at a prestigious art school. Our guy seems to be quite talented. I picked up one of his drawings from a townie. You wouldn’t believe what it’s a picture of…a geodesic dome. You remember where we’ve dealt with such a dome before, right?”
That got my attention. “Atherton.”
“That right! We have to keep close tabs on this Michael guy. I’ll tell mom and dad that I’ve chosen UCLA next year. That should get me closer to Michael.”
“So you’re going to be hanging around Michael while I’m in Cambridge, Massachusetts?” I, of course, was referring to Harvard. I had just received my acceptance letter, which was why my parents let me go on this sudden vacation with Isabel. I replied as soon as possible with my answer; yes. “I don’t like the sound of you following this guy. If he’s anything like us, he is going to be suspicious. And if you push yourself on him too quickly he could hurt you for fear you’re an agent or an evil alien. Remember all of the shit we’ve been put through the last few years?”
It was a miracle I was even going to Harvard. Half of my time I was trying to protect myself from the human race. The FBI was always trying to figure out who we were. Ever since we emerged from our pods, our entire existence was a mystery that the government had to observe closely. We had to kill a few agents along the way, which only led to the appearance of more at a faster rate. Isabel and I eventually made an executive decision not to use our powers unless we were in a life or death situation. It has diminished some of our abilities, but it has, consequently, mad the FBI less suspicious. We finally appear as if we’re normal kids to these agents. In the transition period from protecting our hides, we’ve become a part of a popular group of friends, none of which were near and dear to our hearts. Sometimes it’s odd because all Isabel and I have is ourselves, which is why we went on this crusade to find Michael. We know it’s dangerous, and apparent to the FBI, if they find us, that we’re up to no good. Two teenagers on vacation in Roswell, New Mexico; who ever heard of such a thing? This brings me back to the banter between Isabel and me.
“Max, we’ve been working together for our whole lives. I’ve picked up just as many tricks as you have in the trade. If anything happens, remember what we promised each other? I’ll contact you through a dream walk or otherwise. Perhaps it would ease your mind if I started doing dream interventions periodically. Say, twice a month?”
“Ok, Isabel, but if you get any suspicious activity by you…we don’t want agents on our tails again. It would definitely ease my mind knowing you’re safe, especially since we will be on opposite sides of the country. Now come on, let’s go get breakfast.”
Needless to say, I never saw the petite brunette again. At least I didn’t see her in reality. She started to visit my dreams shortly after Isabel and I left Roswell. Her name is Liz in my dreams. The way her name rolls off her sensuous lips is music to my ears. Each dream I’ve tried to memorize with all my heart and soul. As the dreams progress, I learn she is pregnant, with my child. It worries me to think that she could be carrying an alien within her swollen belly. Would she know how to care for it? Would she know what to do? Despite my worries I didn’t inform her that I was an alien. I think I was afraid of rejection, but now I fear that the baby’s identity could hurt Liz or hurt himself. What if the FBI learns of the predicament and comes after Liz? I don’t think I could bear the pain inflicted upon anyone else because of me. It’s weird; I’ve learned more about Liz from the dreams than from any other source. I’m not even sure if they are real. They could still be a figment of my wild imagination with a pinch of paranoia after being watched by agents. I’ve lived a life where I have always had to look behind my shoulder and I wouldn’t wish that life upon anyone. If Liz, or my (imaginary) son were to live this life, I couldn’t live with myself.
For months I have been between dreams. Most of the time, I get dreams of Liz and her growing tummy. For the remainder amount of time I get messages from Isabel telling me how things are going. Thankfully, they are going well; she has befriended Michael’s best friend, a female. Isabel seems to think she can use the girl to get to Michael, but it will be a long process, as she wants to make the female think that she is friends with the girl, not friends with the girl to get to the guy.
Between the dreams and school work, the year has blown by faster than a hurricane. I’m nearing my final exam when I receive my last dream from Liz. She is in a hospital when she screams my name. I can’t see faces, but there are three people standing around her. A man is holding her hand as she squeezes it in terror. In the background there is a female and a male; who they are is unbeknownst to me. I’m seeing everything as if it were a movie, only it isn’t a movie. It’s real. I can smell the sterile hospital smell and see everything from a birdseye view. She is having a baby and I am watching the entire process.
When I am finally pulled back into reality, I’m gasping for air. There’s one thing for certain. “I need to find Liz…and my baby boy.”
Author's Note: I had already started Chapter 7, when I had an idea...why not incorporate a Max POV into the story. Naturally, I couldn't think of a better place to put it in, as the last word in chapter 6 was 'Max.' So, luckily, I've been inspired by creativity to pump out some chapters for you. Because I started the next Liz part previously, Chapter 8 (previously 7) will be out as soon as I have time to write it. As this is my final year of high school, I have a pretty open summer, which means lots of time for writing. I'm going to try and write as much as possible before it's time to begin my first year of college in September. Anyway...I hope you all enjoyed the part.
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Effluent Elegance
- Enthusiastic Roswellian
- Posts: 19
- Joined: Tue Dec 02, 2003 6:25 pm
- Location: Wisconsin
Chapter 8
<center>Chapter 8</center>
It took awhile, but I finally came up with the perfect name for my newborn. His name is legally Michael Nathanial Parker. Michael has been through it all with me. I’m sure he’ll even influence the baby in more ways than one (whether that be a good thing or a bad thing, I have yet to figure out).
The second I held my child I knew I was the luckiest woman on Earth. He was so gentle, and he did this cooing thing when I held him. Then, he would shut his tiny amber eyes; they were definitely the eyes of that handsome stranger – eyes that any woman would fawn over. This meant that I will have to keep an eye on Nathan to make sure he doesn’t break all the ladies’ hearts. For now, I’ll focus on his tenderness. His tiny fingers grasp my thumb and it’s probably the most wonderful experience I’ve ever had (as is everything, so far, concerning my son). It was like he was trying to communicate with me in the most innocent child-like way possible. It was so adorable.
Then, he cried. That sound! That horrendous sound! Mother’s instinct took over and I nursed him. I can’t get over how much he looks like Max, who, for all I know, is an illusion that’s only existent in my dreams. Maybe, someday we can be in each others arms again. Perhaps it would be possible if this was a fairy tale, but this is definitely not a fairy tale. There is no prince and there is no castle. If I continue to fantasize about a man who I will never see again, I’m only leading my life down the path of disappointment. Eventually, I will need to get back into the dating field, but for now, it’s safe to say that Nathan and I will be comfortable with each other. I have a feeling it will only be a few days before the role of single mother starts to dawn on me.
Speaking of being a single mother, I can’t wait until Nathan and I will get to go home. First, I have to fully recuperate and then the hospital will release me. In the past few hours I’ve been drifting in and out of sleep. A few moments ago, the nurse brought Nathan from the nursery to let me hold him. Now that I’m done with giving birth, I look back and realize that I had no idea how difficult it would be to give birth. Media tends to underexaggerate the birthing process (or at least the post-birthing process), so I didn’t think it would be so physically draining. Fortunately, it produced this beautiful angel lying in my arms.
Once I get home, Michael and I will have to have tiny readjustments to the place. There are still some areas that look more like a bachelor pad than a child-proof home. Michael has been so generous to me these last few months. I’m so gracious for his love and support. Maria came into my room earlier when I was semi-conscious and told me that he was in the lobby catching a nap. The poor guy has been at the hospital ever since I gave birth to Nathan.
I can’t even begin to imagine what life will be like from here on out. I’m a mother. I’M A MOTHER. Nope, I’m still not used to saying it. I’m going to be there when my child learns to crawl, walk, and talk. I’ll be there for his first day of kindergarten and his last day of high school. But I don’t want to think that far ahead. Right now I have a wonderful, healthy, baby boy and that’s all a mother can ask for.
After breast feeding, the nurse takes away Nathan so I can get some sleep. Honestly, I really don’t feel that wiped out. In the past day that I’ve been in the hospital, I’ve had many visitors (Michael, Maria, Alex, Isabel, and mom), but one has yet to grace my presence. The man that gave me my precious baby boy hasn’t been in my dreams. I have this strange feeling that he’s off on some quest that will push us together. Then again, that could be just my wishful thinking; I mean, wouldn’t you hope that the man that impregnated you would begin this search for you as if he somehow knew that you just gave birth to his child? Ok, I’ve been reading way too many fairy tales to my belly.
Before I fall further into the abyss of my fantasy life, my mother walks in. I didn’t expect her to stick around for so long, but she’s genuinely concerned about the baby and me. It’s amazing; she was one of the two people I thought would never be a part of my life ever again. Maybe in the future my father would see the light as well, but I won’t keep my hopes up. He really hurt me the night he rejected me and kicked me out of his home just because I was pregnant. Can you believe that man? I know I can’t.
“How are you doing honey?” she asks with a soothing voice. Mother’s always have that gentle tone. Hopefully I sound that comforting to Nathanial.
She sits down on a nearby chair and scoots it over to the bed I’m on. Her hand gently strokes my head and it’s actually more calming than the tenderness in her voice.
“Better. Was it this hard when you gave birth to me?”
“Harder. I was in labor with you for 12 hours. I was ready to die by the time I popped you out, but your birth brought so much light into my life. I don’t regret one minute of labor.”
“As I don’t regret Nathanial’s. I know you don’t approve of what happened a year ago, but things happen. Sometimes the best things come from little mistakes…and sometimes, people surprise you,” I confess bravely. I want her to know that it means so much to me that she is here with me right here and right now. I can imagine how shocked she was when she learned of my condition. “There’s just one thing I have to know. Why did it take you so long to come to me?”
“I didn’t want to upset your father. It sounds lame when I say it, but 20 years ago I made a vow that I would stick with him through everything. At first I thought it was the right thing to do and that you would eventually come around. Then, it sunk in; you weren’t coming back home and I had no idea if you ever would again. Jeff treated you like dirt and for months I chastised myself for not standing up for you. Then, I heard Maria talking to you on the phone and it dawned on me that I was so consumed with the events of that night that I didn’t even stop to consider what you were going through in the present. I admit it, I eavesdropped, but it seemed like the only sort of connection I had to you for months. After that, I wasn’t afraid of Jeff anymore, I was afraid of you. I didn’t know what you would say. It had been so long since I last saw you; by that point you must have been in your third trimester. I finally decided to push my pride aside for your sake and for my grandchild’s sake.” My mom sat in silence for what seemed like hours. What was I to say to her? I couldn’t exactly tell her it was alright, because it wasn’t alright. She missed out on her own daughter’s life and this was all she had to say for herself. “I hope you don’t think of me as this horrible person. I want to be a part of your life from here on out if you will let me.”
Well, I couldn’t exactly turn that down, now could I? She sounded so desperate and deserted. “I’ll let you, but it’s going to have to take some effort on your part. It’s going to be hard for me to forgive, but I will come around eventually. What makes it worse is that there is still a hole in my heart from that day that can only be filled by one person.” We both knew who I was talking about: Jeff. He doesn’t deserve one of the following titles anymore: dad, daddy, father, papa, or padre.
Now, this was supposed to be a happy day. Here I am, at a hospital, on the brink of crying my eyes out like a baby. Thankfully a nurse comes in and checks all my vitals. After consulting with a doctor, she informs me that I am free to go home. Mom will be taking Nathan and I home. Apparently she bought him a car seat about a week ago. ‘As a working mom, you will cherish this thing,’ she told me.
The car ride is spent mainly in silence. It seems like an eternity, but we finally make it home. When I walked inside Michael, Maria, Isabel, and Alex were all waiting for me. I put a finger to my lips signaling to them that Nathan had just fallen asleep and that they needed to be at least semi-quiet. With Nathan still in my arms, I sit in a rocking chair and ask what is going on.
“It’s a welcoming home party. We know it really isn’t a party, but we all wanted to be here for you when you came home. Plus, Alex and Isabel wanted to see the beautiful newborn,” Michael said. He took a seat on the sofa next to Maria and put his arm around her protectively. Someday, Michael will make Maria a very happy wife/mother. Unfortunately, I have a feeling that day is going to be farther in the future.
“Can I hold him?” Alex asked. I nodded my head and gently passed Nathan over to Alex. He will make a great uncle for my baby boy. I have a feeling Michael will teach him all the chauvinistic male things and Alex will teach him the intellectual things in life. You need that balance to have a normal life.
<center>- - - - -</center>
I open my eyes and realize that I must have fallen asleep. I look around me and it appears as if everyone has gone, including Nathan. Who would have taken him from me? Was I being entirely paranoid? To answer the latter, I stand up and walk around the house. Everything is calm…and empty. Where did everyone go? Slowly, my blood pressure rises until I’m in a full-blown panic mode. Where is Nathan? I start yelling for him and I’m nearly running in circles around the apartment.
Suddenly, Michael is standing in front of me. “Liz, it’s ok. We went outside with Nathan for a while. We didn’t want to wake you. You looked really tired when you came home. If you want to rest for a while, that’s alright. Your mom was holding Nathan and taking care of him when I heard you screaming. Don’t worry, everything is okay.”
I take a deep breath and look curiously at Michael. “He needs to be fed.” I don’t know how I knew that, but I did. Seconds later, my mother came in with Nathan crying. It’s probably just the motherly instincts. I take Nathan to my bedroom and shut the door behind me. I sit on the bed, cradling his tender body.
After I start feeding him, I’m pulled from reality. I’m back in the dream-like world where I envisioned Max for the first time. I look at myself; I’m skinny again. There are a few differences in my body – I’ve got curves in the breasts and in the hips, but the rest appears to be normal. I look over to my counterpart and there appears to be something different about him too. It looks like he hasn’t gotten any sleep in days; he has dark circles under his eyes. His face is sunken in like he hasn’t had anything to eat either. I run over to him and he collapses in my arms. I lay him down gently so that I’m sitting down and his head is in my lap. I run my hands through my hair and try to coax him awake.
“Max, wake up. Please be alright. Did you know you’re a father now?” Tears begin to fall down my cheeks and a toddler runs up to us. I look at the child and realize that it’s Nathan.
“DADDY!”
Max stirs. Nathan places a hand on Max and slowly, Max regains consciousness. As he does so, I’m losing the connection with Max. In the distance, I hear him ask where I am, but before I can respond, I’m ripped from the dream world and Nathan is giggling in my arms. He has finished feeding. I look at him and wonder if somehow Nathan is the reason I’ve been getting the dreams of Max.
I remember what Michael told me years ago. I’m an alien. Don’t be frightened Liz. I couldn’t bear lying to you anymore. You’re my best friend, and I can only imagine how scary this is for you, but I’m not a scary person. You know me. I haven’t changed since you’ve started to know me. There is one thing I want you to promise me. Promise me that you will never tell anyone who I am…ever. It’s detrimental to my existence.
I panicked initially, but the information only made our friendship stronger in the end. To this day I have kept my promise to Michael. What if there were more aliens on earth. It seemed ignorant to think that Michael was the only alien on Earth. What if Nathan is an alien? Does that mean that somehow I got powers from Michael and genetically passed them on? Something is off here, and there’s only one thing I know for certain: I have to find Max.
Author's Note: To keep the confusion to a minimum, Michael Nathanial will be referred to as Nathanial/Nathan/Nate. I hope everyone enjoys the new part as much as I enjoy your replies to it. Oh, and also, I realize these last few chapters may have been sort of depressing so I'm going to try and lighten things up for the next chapter.
It took awhile, but I finally came up with the perfect name for my newborn. His name is legally Michael Nathanial Parker. Michael has been through it all with me. I’m sure he’ll even influence the baby in more ways than one (whether that be a good thing or a bad thing, I have yet to figure out).
The second I held my child I knew I was the luckiest woman on Earth. He was so gentle, and he did this cooing thing when I held him. Then, he would shut his tiny amber eyes; they were definitely the eyes of that handsome stranger – eyes that any woman would fawn over. This meant that I will have to keep an eye on Nathan to make sure he doesn’t break all the ladies’ hearts. For now, I’ll focus on his tenderness. His tiny fingers grasp my thumb and it’s probably the most wonderful experience I’ve ever had (as is everything, so far, concerning my son). It was like he was trying to communicate with me in the most innocent child-like way possible. It was so adorable.
Then, he cried. That sound! That horrendous sound! Mother’s instinct took over and I nursed him. I can’t get over how much he looks like Max, who, for all I know, is an illusion that’s only existent in my dreams. Maybe, someday we can be in each others arms again. Perhaps it would be possible if this was a fairy tale, but this is definitely not a fairy tale. There is no prince and there is no castle. If I continue to fantasize about a man who I will never see again, I’m only leading my life down the path of disappointment. Eventually, I will need to get back into the dating field, but for now, it’s safe to say that Nathan and I will be comfortable with each other. I have a feeling it will only be a few days before the role of single mother starts to dawn on me.
Speaking of being a single mother, I can’t wait until Nathan and I will get to go home. First, I have to fully recuperate and then the hospital will release me. In the past few hours I’ve been drifting in and out of sleep. A few moments ago, the nurse brought Nathan from the nursery to let me hold him. Now that I’m done with giving birth, I look back and realize that I had no idea how difficult it would be to give birth. Media tends to underexaggerate the birthing process (or at least the post-birthing process), so I didn’t think it would be so physically draining. Fortunately, it produced this beautiful angel lying in my arms.
Once I get home, Michael and I will have to have tiny readjustments to the place. There are still some areas that look more like a bachelor pad than a child-proof home. Michael has been so generous to me these last few months. I’m so gracious for his love and support. Maria came into my room earlier when I was semi-conscious and told me that he was in the lobby catching a nap. The poor guy has been at the hospital ever since I gave birth to Nathan.
I can’t even begin to imagine what life will be like from here on out. I’m a mother. I’M A MOTHER. Nope, I’m still not used to saying it. I’m going to be there when my child learns to crawl, walk, and talk. I’ll be there for his first day of kindergarten and his last day of high school. But I don’t want to think that far ahead. Right now I have a wonderful, healthy, baby boy and that’s all a mother can ask for.
After breast feeding, the nurse takes away Nathan so I can get some sleep. Honestly, I really don’t feel that wiped out. In the past day that I’ve been in the hospital, I’ve had many visitors (Michael, Maria, Alex, Isabel, and mom), but one has yet to grace my presence. The man that gave me my precious baby boy hasn’t been in my dreams. I have this strange feeling that he’s off on some quest that will push us together. Then again, that could be just my wishful thinking; I mean, wouldn’t you hope that the man that impregnated you would begin this search for you as if he somehow knew that you just gave birth to his child? Ok, I’ve been reading way too many fairy tales to my belly.
Before I fall further into the abyss of my fantasy life, my mother walks in. I didn’t expect her to stick around for so long, but she’s genuinely concerned about the baby and me. It’s amazing; she was one of the two people I thought would never be a part of my life ever again. Maybe in the future my father would see the light as well, but I won’t keep my hopes up. He really hurt me the night he rejected me and kicked me out of his home just because I was pregnant. Can you believe that man? I know I can’t.
“How are you doing honey?” she asks with a soothing voice. Mother’s always have that gentle tone. Hopefully I sound that comforting to Nathanial.
She sits down on a nearby chair and scoots it over to the bed I’m on. Her hand gently strokes my head and it’s actually more calming than the tenderness in her voice.
“Better. Was it this hard when you gave birth to me?”
“Harder. I was in labor with you for 12 hours. I was ready to die by the time I popped you out, but your birth brought so much light into my life. I don’t regret one minute of labor.”
“As I don’t regret Nathanial’s. I know you don’t approve of what happened a year ago, but things happen. Sometimes the best things come from little mistakes…and sometimes, people surprise you,” I confess bravely. I want her to know that it means so much to me that she is here with me right here and right now. I can imagine how shocked she was when she learned of my condition. “There’s just one thing I have to know. Why did it take you so long to come to me?”
“I didn’t want to upset your father. It sounds lame when I say it, but 20 years ago I made a vow that I would stick with him through everything. At first I thought it was the right thing to do and that you would eventually come around. Then, it sunk in; you weren’t coming back home and I had no idea if you ever would again. Jeff treated you like dirt and for months I chastised myself for not standing up for you. Then, I heard Maria talking to you on the phone and it dawned on me that I was so consumed with the events of that night that I didn’t even stop to consider what you were going through in the present. I admit it, I eavesdropped, but it seemed like the only sort of connection I had to you for months. After that, I wasn’t afraid of Jeff anymore, I was afraid of you. I didn’t know what you would say. It had been so long since I last saw you; by that point you must have been in your third trimester. I finally decided to push my pride aside for your sake and for my grandchild’s sake.” My mom sat in silence for what seemed like hours. What was I to say to her? I couldn’t exactly tell her it was alright, because it wasn’t alright. She missed out on her own daughter’s life and this was all she had to say for herself. “I hope you don’t think of me as this horrible person. I want to be a part of your life from here on out if you will let me.”
Well, I couldn’t exactly turn that down, now could I? She sounded so desperate and deserted. “I’ll let you, but it’s going to have to take some effort on your part. It’s going to be hard for me to forgive, but I will come around eventually. What makes it worse is that there is still a hole in my heart from that day that can only be filled by one person.” We both knew who I was talking about: Jeff. He doesn’t deserve one of the following titles anymore: dad, daddy, father, papa, or padre.
Now, this was supposed to be a happy day. Here I am, at a hospital, on the brink of crying my eyes out like a baby. Thankfully a nurse comes in and checks all my vitals. After consulting with a doctor, she informs me that I am free to go home. Mom will be taking Nathan and I home. Apparently she bought him a car seat about a week ago. ‘As a working mom, you will cherish this thing,’ she told me.
The car ride is spent mainly in silence. It seems like an eternity, but we finally make it home. When I walked inside Michael, Maria, Isabel, and Alex were all waiting for me. I put a finger to my lips signaling to them that Nathan had just fallen asleep and that they needed to be at least semi-quiet. With Nathan still in my arms, I sit in a rocking chair and ask what is going on.
“It’s a welcoming home party. We know it really isn’t a party, but we all wanted to be here for you when you came home. Plus, Alex and Isabel wanted to see the beautiful newborn,” Michael said. He took a seat on the sofa next to Maria and put his arm around her protectively. Someday, Michael will make Maria a very happy wife/mother. Unfortunately, I have a feeling that day is going to be farther in the future.
“Can I hold him?” Alex asked. I nodded my head and gently passed Nathan over to Alex. He will make a great uncle for my baby boy. I have a feeling Michael will teach him all the chauvinistic male things and Alex will teach him the intellectual things in life. You need that balance to have a normal life.
<center>- - - - -</center>
I open my eyes and realize that I must have fallen asleep. I look around me and it appears as if everyone has gone, including Nathan. Who would have taken him from me? Was I being entirely paranoid? To answer the latter, I stand up and walk around the house. Everything is calm…and empty. Where did everyone go? Slowly, my blood pressure rises until I’m in a full-blown panic mode. Where is Nathan? I start yelling for him and I’m nearly running in circles around the apartment.
Suddenly, Michael is standing in front of me. “Liz, it’s ok. We went outside with Nathan for a while. We didn’t want to wake you. You looked really tired when you came home. If you want to rest for a while, that’s alright. Your mom was holding Nathan and taking care of him when I heard you screaming. Don’t worry, everything is okay.”
I take a deep breath and look curiously at Michael. “He needs to be fed.” I don’t know how I knew that, but I did. Seconds later, my mother came in with Nathan crying. It’s probably just the motherly instincts. I take Nathan to my bedroom and shut the door behind me. I sit on the bed, cradling his tender body.
After I start feeding him, I’m pulled from reality. I’m back in the dream-like world where I envisioned Max for the first time. I look at myself; I’m skinny again. There are a few differences in my body – I’ve got curves in the breasts and in the hips, but the rest appears to be normal. I look over to my counterpart and there appears to be something different about him too. It looks like he hasn’t gotten any sleep in days; he has dark circles under his eyes. His face is sunken in like he hasn’t had anything to eat either. I run over to him and he collapses in my arms. I lay him down gently so that I’m sitting down and his head is in my lap. I run my hands through my hair and try to coax him awake.
“Max, wake up. Please be alright. Did you know you’re a father now?” Tears begin to fall down my cheeks and a toddler runs up to us. I look at the child and realize that it’s Nathan.
“DADDY!”
Max stirs. Nathan places a hand on Max and slowly, Max regains consciousness. As he does so, I’m losing the connection with Max. In the distance, I hear him ask where I am, but before I can respond, I’m ripped from the dream world and Nathan is giggling in my arms. He has finished feeding. I look at him and wonder if somehow Nathan is the reason I’ve been getting the dreams of Max.
I remember what Michael told me years ago. I’m an alien. Don’t be frightened Liz. I couldn’t bear lying to you anymore. You’re my best friend, and I can only imagine how scary this is for you, but I’m not a scary person. You know me. I haven’t changed since you’ve started to know me. There is one thing I want you to promise me. Promise me that you will never tell anyone who I am…ever. It’s detrimental to my existence.
I panicked initially, but the information only made our friendship stronger in the end. To this day I have kept my promise to Michael. What if there were more aliens on earth. It seemed ignorant to think that Michael was the only alien on Earth. What if Nathan is an alien? Does that mean that somehow I got powers from Michael and genetically passed them on? Something is off here, and there’s only one thing I know for certain: I have to find Max.
Author's Note: To keep the confusion to a minimum, Michael Nathanial will be referred to as Nathanial/Nathan/Nate. I hope everyone enjoys the new part as much as I enjoy your replies to it. Oh, and also, I realize these last few chapters may have been sort of depressing so I'm going to try and lighten things up for the next chapter.
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Effluent Elegance
- Enthusiastic Roswellian
- Posts: 19
- Joined: Tue Dec 02, 2003 6:25 pm
- Location: Wisconsin
<center>Chapter 9</center>
The following weeks gradually become more and more stressful. I want to tell Michael of my suspicions about Nathan being an alien – and that I, too, could be an alien – but I decide to hold off until later. Soon, I will have to go back to work in order to earn money for my baby. I’ve also decided to attend school during summer months. It may prove to be impossible initially, but Michael has agreed to help out. His help will be greatly appreciated because Nathan is a handful. There’s the need for a change of dirty diapers, feeding around the clock, and the constant crying to alert me of the aforementioned.
Michael has been an angel to Nathan and me. He has offered to help out with the babysitting once I have to go back to my part-time job. He won’t be attending school during the summer months, so he has dedicated that much more time to helping out with Nathan and I. Mom has left for Roswell by now, so any help that she would have given has been flushed down the drain. She said that she needed to tend to my father and that the way she left him made her distraught. She doesn’t want to put her marriage on the line by being gone from him for too long. Mom and I really connected over the two weeks that she spent in Los Angeles. I’m missing her already, just as I know Michael is missing Maria. Their relationship is in the ‘on’ position. I have a feeling that Maria is seriously thinking about moving to Los Angeles. She claims that she wants to be ‘the best damn aunt’ to Nathan, but I know she really wants to be closer to Michael. Not to say that Nathan isn’t an added perk for her; Maria is excellent with children.
Then, there’s Alex and Isabel. Alex has been great through it all. I remember when he offered to babysit for Nathan. He made Michael help him out; he was, after all, an only child and really knew nothing about kids, but I didn’t know that at the time. Isabel orchestrated an excursion to the local mall while the boys stayed at home. The trip consisted of the four of us: Isabel, Maria , my mother, and I. I didn’t have much money to spare, so I watched Maria and Isabel shop around. They would run into the stores animatedly. Isabel knew just what she wanted. Unfortunately, she wanted everything in the store. She went into the dressing rooms with at least 20 articles of clothing. Meanwhile, Maria had a tough time deciding what would look good on her. The only store she had no trouble in was Victoria’s Secret.
“Michael loves a challenge and let me tell you, getting out of some of these strappy pieces of lingerie are a proven challenge,” Maria commented smoothly.
“Spare us the details,” Isabel said coolly. “The last thing any of us want to hear is your details of romping Michael in the bedroom.”
“I second that.” It was true; I didn’t want to hear about Michael having sex. He was like my brother and the last thing siblings want to hear is that their brother or sister is having wild crazy sex in a multitude of positions. Ok, time for a change of topic because this is really starting to get to my head. I won’t picture Michael and Maria doing it. I won’t picture Michael and Maria doing it. I need to think of something pure. AH! Get the images out of my mind!
Think about Nathan. Slowly the images of Michael and Maria in the sack disappear from my over imaginative mind. The images are now replaced with those of Nathan. His cute little gurgle followed by a giggle. That giggle is reserved for his mommy and only his mommy. My heart melts as I think about my baby boy. Suddenly I’m overcome by the need to be with Nathan. We haven’t been apart before. He was in my stomach for nearly nine months and then I had been caring for him since I gave birth. I wondered at that moment what my baby boy was doing.
It wasn’t until later that I found out what pandemonium Alex and Michael were going through just trying to take care of the baby. Michael lavished in telling the truth about Alex’s inexperience with diapers. Alex was watching Nathan while Michael was watching hockey on the small television we shared. Alex made funny faces at Nathan, trying to make him laugh. To his dismay, he couldn’t get the baby to laugh. Finally, Nathan started laughing. Alex thought his facial expression had something to do with it. Not even seconds later, the room was filled with the scent of dirty diaper.
“Jesus Christ, what the fuck did you do, man?” Michael asked. He plugged his nose and ran to open the windows.
“I was just making silly faces. The baby wouldn’t laugh and then all of a sudden he couldn’t stop! How was I supposed to know that making a dirty diaper was funnier than my facial expressions?” Alex said. He was completely panicked. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Change his diaper! Oh man, that shit is ripe,” Michael said.
Alex just took off the diaper. The horrible stench multiplied as it wafted into his nostrils. He gagged, as anyone in his shoes clearly would have done. Alex waved the air in front of him, hoping the poop smell would go into Michael’s direction. Somehow Michael found himself comfortably seated at the television again.
“Aren’t you going to help me out?” By this point, Alex was getting irritated. A new diaper had yet to be put on.
“If you think I’m digging into that you are seriously deranged.”
Alex huffed. He held his breath and then dug into the messy diaper. He quickly wiped Nathan’s butt as Nathan kicked and laughed. Then, Nathan gave Alex a little surprise and relieved himself. In doing so, Alex ended up with a stinky wet spot on his shirt.
“Real smooth Whitman,” Michael laughed. He got up from his spot on the couch and took over from there. When Michael was younger, he lived in an orphanage; he as always the older brother to those kids. Because he was the older brother, that meant lots of diaper changes for the youngest children. “I’d rather not have this house smelling like a god damn bathroom.” With his last words Michael snapped the diaper on.
Michael’s story still remains in my head today. Today is the day that I start summer classes at UCLA. Nathan will be watched by Michael and Alex, again. Hopefully Alex has learned his lesson with diapers.
As I step into the lecture hall, I can’t help but wonder what Max is doing right now. Is he thinking about me as much as I’m thinking about him? Does he really want to be with me, as he states in our dreams? Are these dreams my alien side connecting to Max? For having these new alien powers I don’t feel any different. I would have thought there would be some other tell-tale sign that I am, indeed, alien. For the past couple of weeks I have tried to change the molecular structure of various objects.
When Michael informed me of his alien status years ago, changing the molecular structure of objects was one of the things he told me he could do except, at the time, those weren’t his exact words. We were only seven when he told me the truth. At that point we only knew each other for two years, but Michael and I trusted each other with our souls. Michael demonstrated changing one of his toy trucks into a toy car. As a child I thought it was the coolest thing ever. I wanted to see what else he could do. That was the only thing he knew about himself. Later, we found out that he could blow things up with his mind. We weren’t sure why he was equipped with these powers until we figured out he came from the 1947 crash. I vowed never to tell anyone his secret. Surprisingly, the secret never came out. Elizabeth Parker, worst liar on the planet, actually kept anyone from figuring out Michael’s secret.
I kept the secret from Maria for ten years before she figured it out. Michael said he gave her subtle hints along the way, but I think Maria overheard a conversation about his alienness. I can’t say for sure which of our conversations it was that Maria heard. Even though the secret was out, it was like a weight had been lifted off of Michael’s shoulders. I think at that time he was starting to fall in love with Maria and lying to her was tearing him apart.
The three of us sat down and had a long talk about Michael’s alien side. Michael and I told Maria everything we knew about him, which wasn’t much. What we knew was that Michael came from the ’47 crash and he had inexplicable powers. Michael said he vaguely remembered coming out of some slimy pod. He was naked and took the shape of a human toddler. When he tore out of the pod he remembered seeing two people: one female and one male. He doesn’t remember much about them, except that they got picked up by the side of the road. A truck door opened to reveal a frantic motherly looking woman. She gathered the children in her arms and took them inside the truck. Then, the truck left without a second (or first) glance at the third boy on the side of the road. Michael wandered along the road until he was picked up by an old man. The old man dropped him off at the Roswell Police Department. Michael was transferred to a local orphanage that tried to send him to foster care. Unfortunately, all the willing adopting parents were looking for newborns, not an almost full grown boy. From that point until he was 16, he belonged to the state of New Mexico.
Fortunately, New Mexico let him stay in Roswell. When Michael was finally 16, dad decided to informally adopt him. Michael didn’t go back to the orphanage after that. He figured that if the time came, it would be easier to hide his alien abilities if he lived with someone who he felt comfortable with. Because he felt more at ease at the Crashdown, he was less likely to have an accident with his powers.
There was one incident where he showed his true self. He was messing around at school and one of the teachers got pissed off at him. All Michael had been doing was playfully teasing me on the playground during fifth grade. The teacher thought something more was going on. Mrs. Miller thought Michael was a hooligan and that because he lived in the orphanage, he was a no-good trouble maker. We tried to explain to her that Michael was just messing around and that it was harmless behavior. Mrs. Miller would have none of that. She gave Michael a detention. Michael was boiling over with anger. Mrs. Miller’s desk shook and the coffee mug on her desk shattered into a hundred pieces.
She looked at Michael, frightened. Michael and I stared at each other and then ran screaming out of the room. Hey, we were kids. We didn’t know how else to cover up what we both knew Michael did. Michael, a better liar than I am, told his social worker what happened before Mrs. Miller had a chance to tell any of the authorities. Soon, she was being investigated for child abuse. A month later we never saw her again. Ever since then, it has been our duty to try to hide the truth from others. Sometimes that means lying; making up stories or excuses and playing a role like an actor or actress.
My professor’s voice drags on and I watch the clock tick closer to the time I’m let out. I wonder what Nathan and Michael are doing right now. I feel like I’ve abandoned my child by attending summer classes. If I finish school quicker, then I can get a real paying job and support my child faster. My thoughts drift and before I know it, class is over. The streets are barely crowded. Most students go home for the summer, so there aren’t as many people meandering the UCLA sidewalks.
Finally, I approach the apartment Michael and I share. Something seems different about it. I can’t put my finger on it, but the place is giving me the chills. Curiosity gets the best of me and I approach the door. I move to twist the knob. When my hand reaches the cool handle, the door moves; the door was open before I got there. I step inside and my eyes meet a hurricane – items are scattered all over the floor. Who was here? What were they looking for? Could someone have been watching us?
I step over the mess and move into the room that Nathan and I share. The crib in the corner of the room is torn apart. My mind is running wildly. Who would want something to do with my sweet, innocent, Nathan? I scream his name. He is my bundle of joy amidst all this drama. Does someone up there hate me?
A whisper at the door breaks me from away from my thoughts. “Liz?” I look up with tears in my eyes. Alex is standing there and in his arms is my baby. I rush over to the two and snatch Nathan from his arms. I cradle him close to my heart and rock him back and forth. He probably has no idea what happened and will never come to an understanding of how panicked I was. But there’s more. Alex is too silent. I look up into his eyes and he is on the verge of tears. I give him a questioning gaze.
“Michael and Isabel are gone.”
The following weeks gradually become more and more stressful. I want to tell Michael of my suspicions about Nathan being an alien – and that I, too, could be an alien – but I decide to hold off until later. Soon, I will have to go back to work in order to earn money for my baby. I’ve also decided to attend school during summer months. It may prove to be impossible initially, but Michael has agreed to help out. His help will be greatly appreciated because Nathan is a handful. There’s the need for a change of dirty diapers, feeding around the clock, and the constant crying to alert me of the aforementioned.
Michael has been an angel to Nathan and me. He has offered to help out with the babysitting once I have to go back to my part-time job. He won’t be attending school during the summer months, so he has dedicated that much more time to helping out with Nathan and I. Mom has left for Roswell by now, so any help that she would have given has been flushed down the drain. She said that she needed to tend to my father and that the way she left him made her distraught. She doesn’t want to put her marriage on the line by being gone from him for too long. Mom and I really connected over the two weeks that she spent in Los Angeles. I’m missing her already, just as I know Michael is missing Maria. Their relationship is in the ‘on’ position. I have a feeling that Maria is seriously thinking about moving to Los Angeles. She claims that she wants to be ‘the best damn aunt’ to Nathan, but I know she really wants to be closer to Michael. Not to say that Nathan isn’t an added perk for her; Maria is excellent with children.
Then, there’s Alex and Isabel. Alex has been great through it all. I remember when he offered to babysit for Nathan. He made Michael help him out; he was, after all, an only child and really knew nothing about kids, but I didn’t know that at the time. Isabel orchestrated an excursion to the local mall while the boys stayed at home. The trip consisted of the four of us: Isabel, Maria , my mother, and I. I didn’t have much money to spare, so I watched Maria and Isabel shop around. They would run into the stores animatedly. Isabel knew just what she wanted. Unfortunately, she wanted everything in the store. She went into the dressing rooms with at least 20 articles of clothing. Meanwhile, Maria had a tough time deciding what would look good on her. The only store she had no trouble in was Victoria’s Secret.
“Michael loves a challenge and let me tell you, getting out of some of these strappy pieces of lingerie are a proven challenge,” Maria commented smoothly.
“Spare us the details,” Isabel said coolly. “The last thing any of us want to hear is your details of romping Michael in the bedroom.”
“I second that.” It was true; I didn’t want to hear about Michael having sex. He was like my brother and the last thing siblings want to hear is that their brother or sister is having wild crazy sex in a multitude of positions. Ok, time for a change of topic because this is really starting to get to my head. I won’t picture Michael and Maria doing it. I won’t picture Michael and Maria doing it. I need to think of something pure. AH! Get the images out of my mind!
Think about Nathan. Slowly the images of Michael and Maria in the sack disappear from my over imaginative mind. The images are now replaced with those of Nathan. His cute little gurgle followed by a giggle. That giggle is reserved for his mommy and only his mommy. My heart melts as I think about my baby boy. Suddenly I’m overcome by the need to be with Nathan. We haven’t been apart before. He was in my stomach for nearly nine months and then I had been caring for him since I gave birth. I wondered at that moment what my baby boy was doing.
It wasn’t until later that I found out what pandemonium Alex and Michael were going through just trying to take care of the baby. Michael lavished in telling the truth about Alex’s inexperience with diapers. Alex was watching Nathan while Michael was watching hockey on the small television we shared. Alex made funny faces at Nathan, trying to make him laugh. To his dismay, he couldn’t get the baby to laugh. Finally, Nathan started laughing. Alex thought his facial expression had something to do with it. Not even seconds later, the room was filled with the scent of dirty diaper.
“Jesus Christ, what the fuck did you do, man?” Michael asked. He plugged his nose and ran to open the windows.
“I was just making silly faces. The baby wouldn’t laugh and then all of a sudden he couldn’t stop! How was I supposed to know that making a dirty diaper was funnier than my facial expressions?” Alex said. He was completely panicked. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Change his diaper! Oh man, that shit is ripe,” Michael said.
Alex just took off the diaper. The horrible stench multiplied as it wafted into his nostrils. He gagged, as anyone in his shoes clearly would have done. Alex waved the air in front of him, hoping the poop smell would go into Michael’s direction. Somehow Michael found himself comfortably seated at the television again.
“Aren’t you going to help me out?” By this point, Alex was getting irritated. A new diaper had yet to be put on.
“If you think I’m digging into that you are seriously deranged.”
Alex huffed. He held his breath and then dug into the messy diaper. He quickly wiped Nathan’s butt as Nathan kicked and laughed. Then, Nathan gave Alex a little surprise and relieved himself. In doing so, Alex ended up with a stinky wet spot on his shirt.
“Real smooth Whitman,” Michael laughed. He got up from his spot on the couch and took over from there. When Michael was younger, he lived in an orphanage; he as always the older brother to those kids. Because he was the older brother, that meant lots of diaper changes for the youngest children. “I’d rather not have this house smelling like a god damn bathroom.” With his last words Michael snapped the diaper on.
Michael’s story still remains in my head today. Today is the day that I start summer classes at UCLA. Nathan will be watched by Michael and Alex, again. Hopefully Alex has learned his lesson with diapers.
As I step into the lecture hall, I can’t help but wonder what Max is doing right now. Is he thinking about me as much as I’m thinking about him? Does he really want to be with me, as he states in our dreams? Are these dreams my alien side connecting to Max? For having these new alien powers I don’t feel any different. I would have thought there would be some other tell-tale sign that I am, indeed, alien. For the past couple of weeks I have tried to change the molecular structure of various objects.
When Michael informed me of his alien status years ago, changing the molecular structure of objects was one of the things he told me he could do except, at the time, those weren’t his exact words. We were only seven when he told me the truth. At that point we only knew each other for two years, but Michael and I trusted each other with our souls. Michael demonstrated changing one of his toy trucks into a toy car. As a child I thought it was the coolest thing ever. I wanted to see what else he could do. That was the only thing he knew about himself. Later, we found out that he could blow things up with his mind. We weren’t sure why he was equipped with these powers until we figured out he came from the 1947 crash. I vowed never to tell anyone his secret. Surprisingly, the secret never came out. Elizabeth Parker, worst liar on the planet, actually kept anyone from figuring out Michael’s secret.
I kept the secret from Maria for ten years before she figured it out. Michael said he gave her subtle hints along the way, but I think Maria overheard a conversation about his alienness. I can’t say for sure which of our conversations it was that Maria heard. Even though the secret was out, it was like a weight had been lifted off of Michael’s shoulders. I think at that time he was starting to fall in love with Maria and lying to her was tearing him apart.
The three of us sat down and had a long talk about Michael’s alien side. Michael and I told Maria everything we knew about him, which wasn’t much. What we knew was that Michael came from the ’47 crash and he had inexplicable powers. Michael said he vaguely remembered coming out of some slimy pod. He was naked and took the shape of a human toddler. When he tore out of the pod he remembered seeing two people: one female and one male. He doesn’t remember much about them, except that they got picked up by the side of the road. A truck door opened to reveal a frantic motherly looking woman. She gathered the children in her arms and took them inside the truck. Then, the truck left without a second (or first) glance at the third boy on the side of the road. Michael wandered along the road until he was picked up by an old man. The old man dropped him off at the Roswell Police Department. Michael was transferred to a local orphanage that tried to send him to foster care. Unfortunately, all the willing adopting parents were looking for newborns, not an almost full grown boy. From that point until he was 16, he belonged to the state of New Mexico.
Fortunately, New Mexico let him stay in Roswell. When Michael was finally 16, dad decided to informally adopt him. Michael didn’t go back to the orphanage after that. He figured that if the time came, it would be easier to hide his alien abilities if he lived with someone who he felt comfortable with. Because he felt more at ease at the Crashdown, he was less likely to have an accident with his powers.
There was one incident where he showed his true self. He was messing around at school and one of the teachers got pissed off at him. All Michael had been doing was playfully teasing me on the playground during fifth grade. The teacher thought something more was going on. Mrs. Miller thought Michael was a hooligan and that because he lived in the orphanage, he was a no-good trouble maker. We tried to explain to her that Michael was just messing around and that it was harmless behavior. Mrs. Miller would have none of that. She gave Michael a detention. Michael was boiling over with anger. Mrs. Miller’s desk shook and the coffee mug on her desk shattered into a hundred pieces.
She looked at Michael, frightened. Michael and I stared at each other and then ran screaming out of the room. Hey, we were kids. We didn’t know how else to cover up what we both knew Michael did. Michael, a better liar than I am, told his social worker what happened before Mrs. Miller had a chance to tell any of the authorities. Soon, she was being investigated for child abuse. A month later we never saw her again. Ever since then, it has been our duty to try to hide the truth from others. Sometimes that means lying; making up stories or excuses and playing a role like an actor or actress.
My professor’s voice drags on and I watch the clock tick closer to the time I’m let out. I wonder what Nathan and Michael are doing right now. I feel like I’ve abandoned my child by attending summer classes. If I finish school quicker, then I can get a real paying job and support my child faster. My thoughts drift and before I know it, class is over. The streets are barely crowded. Most students go home for the summer, so there aren’t as many people meandering the UCLA sidewalks.
Finally, I approach the apartment Michael and I share. Something seems different about it. I can’t put my finger on it, but the place is giving me the chills. Curiosity gets the best of me and I approach the door. I move to twist the knob. When my hand reaches the cool handle, the door moves; the door was open before I got there. I step inside and my eyes meet a hurricane – items are scattered all over the floor. Who was here? What were they looking for? Could someone have been watching us?
I step over the mess and move into the room that Nathan and I share. The crib in the corner of the room is torn apart. My mind is running wildly. Who would want something to do with my sweet, innocent, Nathan? I scream his name. He is my bundle of joy amidst all this drama. Does someone up there hate me?
A whisper at the door breaks me from away from my thoughts. “Liz?” I look up with tears in my eyes. Alex is standing there and in his arms is my baby. I rush over to the two and snatch Nathan from his arms. I cradle him close to my heart and rock him back and forth. He probably has no idea what happened and will never come to an understanding of how panicked I was. But there’s more. Alex is too silent. I look up into his eyes and he is on the verge of tears. I give him a questioning gaze.
“Michael and Isabel are gone.”
-
Effluent Elegance
- Enthusiastic Roswellian
- Posts: 19
- Joined: Tue Dec 02, 2003 6:25 pm
- Location: Wisconsin
<center>Chapter 10</center>
“What do you mean they’re gone?” I shriek. “What the hell happened here, Alex?” By now, I’ve begun pacing back and forth in my bedroom.
“Maybe you can tell me. Michael said that I should tell you that this is a ‘code green.’ Then, he shooed me out the back door with Nathan. He told me to go home and not to return until four. And when I was to return that I was supposed to come in the back door cautiously.” Alex’s face is a pale color. Something has him really freaked out – and not just Michael’s cryptic message.
Code green; Michael and I made that up when we were younger. We both loved the color green, but that was beside the point. Stereotypically, when people thought of aliens, they pictured a three foot tall green thing with huge eyes. If something ever happened in which someone was about to find out Michael’s true identity, we were supposed to say ‘code green’ and then have a secluded place to discuss the matter.
When Maria was on the verge of figuring out, the three of us were working a late shift at the Crashdown. She kept making subtle hints that suggested she listened to private conversations I had with Michael. At the time we had been investigating his true identity. Unfortunately, everywhere we researched led to a dead end. Despite our bad luck, we continued to research his history. Most of the time, we would discuss any details or plans in the backroom. It didn’t occur to me that Maria might be listening on the other side of the swinging door. This particular night, Maria alluded to Michael being green around the gills. Maria only needed to say one more thing to alert a ‘code green.’ She didn’t fail us when she blurted, “Michael, are you a Martia – I mean do you want a Martian Meal?” Maria only fumbled with her words when she was nervous or when she was trying to keep a secret…or both. The next day we had to explain to her everything we knew about Michael’s past.
So, when Alex told me that we had a code green, I knew just who it was: the FBI. Why else would he shove Alex out with Nathan? I stared at the wall behind Alex, trying not to let the tears well up behind my eyes. What was I supposed to do? Was I supposed to find Michael and rescue him? What would I do with Nathan in the meantime? And what if they caught me – I am an alien now, aren’t I?
“Come on Liz. I don’t think it’s safe for you or Nathan to stay here right now. We’ll call the police and catch these kidnappers.”
I follow Alex like a mechanical robot. My legs are numb; I can barely feel myself treading across the hallway to the backdoor. Alex leads me to my car. He takes Nathan out of my grip and securely places him in the baby seat.
Everything that is being played before me is moving in slow motion. My worst nightmare is playing out before my eyes. Michael’s worst nightmare is playing out before my eyes. I’m not sure what to do. My best friend, the guy I’ve known forever (time doesn’t exist in my memory before I knew Michael), is gone. He could be lying dead in a dumpster now and I wouldn’t know it. But I know the FBI; the last thing they would consider would be to kill someone they want to turn into a lab rat.
While I’m contemplating the drama of my own life, Alex drives us silently home; specifically to his home. My home is totaled. What am I going to tell the landlord? Why am I thinking about he landlord when I have bigger fish to fry? These fish are twice my size and go by the name ‘Special Unit.’ They are here to ruin Michael’s life, and I have to stop them – hopefully boil them in a steaming bowl of water. Yes, anyone who would hurt the best person in my life deserves a slow and painful death.
I look over to Alex who is a bit too focused on the road. He looked clueless when he told me that Michael and Isabel were gone. His eyes practically pleaded with me to tell him what happened to his girlfriend. That means he doesn’t know that the people who took his girlfriend were the FBI. I stare at the road ahead of me when it clicks. Isabel is an alien too. It seems insane that I didn’t figure it out at the house when Alex told me that Michael and Isabel were gone. Does this mean she’s the girl that Michael saw when he was younger? It would make sense. Isabel is a blonde and Michael swears that it was one of the most vivid details from his memory. Even in the night her hair shimmered. When the truck came – probably Isabel’s parents – he said the headlights hit her head, creating an array of golden streaks. Does Alex know his girlfriend is an alien? Of course he doesn’t. If he did he wouldn’t be questioning what happened at the apartment a little over an hour ago.
It’s not until Alex announces that we’ve arrived that I realize the car is at a stop. I look up at him and silently exit the car and grab Nathan out of his car seat. By the time we get inside, Alex sits on the couch and looks at me questionably.
“What happened back there? And don’t give me any bullshit because I know that you know.” I’ve never seen Alex this upset before. He seems angry. Ever since I met him, he has always been a fun loving nerd – and completely happy with the fact. The man before me is scared and confused.
Instead of encouraging this behavior to continue, I take a deep breath and begin my long explanation. It parallels the speech Michael and I gave Maria in so many ways. While I’m speaking – almost mechanically – I can’t help but wonder what I am going to tell Maria. She won’t want me to leave any details out (as with any story you tell Maria), but the truth is I have more questions than details myself. There’s no doubt she will probe Alex for his story as well. He was the last one with Michael and Isabel. The story he gave me still seems scanty. Once I’ve finished all the details of Michael’s life, and my assumption that Isabel is an alien, he looks at me skeptically. Instead of waiting for him to ask any questions, I forge ahead with my own, like his short story back at the scene of the crime.
“I told you what happened,” Alex says. He’s stressed. He keeps moving his leg as if something else is on his mind, but I have other matters to figure out right now like whether or not Michael can be saved by me, or if I have to assemble a group of law breaking individuals.
“You told me that Michael told you to pass along a message. ‘Code Green.’ Would you mind telling me what transpired before then?” My tone is biting. I have no time for bullshit or sympathy. Time is of the essence if we are going to catch up with those federal bastards that took my best friend and Alex’s best girlfriend away from us.
Alex takes a deep breath. He looks as if he’s trying to recall what happened during his stay with Isabel and Michael. I decide to give the guy a break. Who knows how much he has been through already today? I don’t need to build on his already mounting stress level. “Well, Isabel wanted me to come over to the apartment with her. She said she and Michael had something important to discuss with me. I imagine that it was the truth about their origin. Perhaps they found things out from the FBI about themselves. The conversation never happened, so all ideas of what it could have been are pure speculation. Isabel and I drove over to the apartment. I remember her saying something about having a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach. Then, we got to the apartment. We entered through the front door and sat down. Michael was cooking when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He asked us if we saw anything at one of the windows. He said he thought he saw a man, but we just brushed it off. Five minutes later, there was a knock on the door and about five black cars were parked outside of the house. That’s when he shouted the instructions that I told you back at the house. I don’t know why he didn’t run. Maybe he didn’t think that all of us could make it out alive. If I was the one to leave with Nathan and the feds caught me, I would be able to tell them that I didn’t know anything because I really didn’t. Thankfully, someone up there is watching out for your son because I didn’t think he and I would make it out of there without getting captured.”
I stare at Alex. His story wasn’t as detailed as I thought it might be. I mean, he described it in a detailed manner, but he doesn’t know any more than I do about the whole situation, except that it was the Special Unit that took Michael and Isabel from us.
“Can you think of a way to save them,” I ask Alex, hope apparent in my tone. When he shakes his head, I sit back into the couch with a sigh. Nathan is currently resting in my arms. First, we would need to find where they are, then we would have to formulate a plan to get them out, but don’t you need more than two people to execute a kidnapping? Obviously the FBI used at least ten people, assuming that there were two people in each squad car. And it was my luck that we only had two individuals. Knowing Maria, she would want to help the cause too. That makes three willing individuals. I laugh internally at the impossibility of it all.
Vaguely, I hear the phone ring in the background, but I’m too concentrated on coming up with a plan to save two people in my life that I love dearly. Michael is the equivalent to a twin to me. Not that I would know what having a twin is like, but my schema of what a twin would be is everything Michael represents. Isabel is like a big sister. She has helped me through the pregnancy by looking out for my style and babysitting for Nathan. I will never forget how she helped me, but I won’t have to remember her like she’s dead. Once Maria, Alex, and I save Michael and Isabel there will be many new memories to form.
Alex jars me from my thoughts. “Liz, it’s Maria.”
I stare at the phone as he asks me whether he should tell her the bad news or I should. I decide to go with the latter since it will hurt Maria to hear the news about Michael and who knows Michael better than I do? I can’t believe I have to break the news to her over the phone. I just know my heart will break into pieces when I hear Maria sobbing on the other line. It will only take seconds before I too start crying. I tell her the news and, as suspected, she starts weeping and I follow suit.
“Liz, I’m coming to L.A.,” she cries out. “We’re going to find a way to get those bastards at the FBI and we are going to save Michael and Isabel from whatever sort of hell they’re enduring right now. In fact, I’m packing right now, chica.”
My tone quickly changes to one of heartfelt apology to one that is more businesslike. “Maria, listen to me. It’s not safe to go to the apartment right now. Hell, I don’t even know if it’s safe to talk on the phone with you about this. All I know is that you can’t go to the apartment Michael and I shared. They totaled the whole building. I don’t know what they were looking for – other than Michael and Isabel – but they sure as hell couldn’t find it. Just come straight to Alex and Isabel’s when you get into town.”
“Okay, Liz. I’m leaving Roswell tonight. God knows I won’t be getting any sleep sitting in Roswell; I might as well make a night out of it.”
“I love you, Maria.”
“I love you too, Liz.”
I hang up the phone and look at Alex. “What are we going to do?”
“We’ll figure something out. With Maria’s help this thing becomes more realistic.” Alex walks over to me and gives Nathan and me a gentle hug. “You two take the bed. I wish I had a crib, but we’ll just have to make do for now.”
Author's Note: These last 2 chapters have been pretty slow. Luckily, my plans for the next 2 chapters should pick up pace. Once again, I'm hoping to have 2 chapters out by next Thursday. Then, I have to college orientation and all that fun stuff. I'm really liking where this is going and I'm happy to hear that you are all liking it as well. On my bad days, your comments motivate me to write more chapters, so thank you for helping me to complete this fic - it's been two years and counting right now!
“What do you mean they’re gone?” I shriek. “What the hell happened here, Alex?” By now, I’ve begun pacing back and forth in my bedroom.
“Maybe you can tell me. Michael said that I should tell you that this is a ‘code green.’ Then, he shooed me out the back door with Nathan. He told me to go home and not to return until four. And when I was to return that I was supposed to come in the back door cautiously.” Alex’s face is a pale color. Something has him really freaked out – and not just Michael’s cryptic message.
Code green; Michael and I made that up when we were younger. We both loved the color green, but that was beside the point. Stereotypically, when people thought of aliens, they pictured a three foot tall green thing with huge eyes. If something ever happened in which someone was about to find out Michael’s true identity, we were supposed to say ‘code green’ and then have a secluded place to discuss the matter.
When Maria was on the verge of figuring out, the three of us were working a late shift at the Crashdown. She kept making subtle hints that suggested she listened to private conversations I had with Michael. At the time we had been investigating his true identity. Unfortunately, everywhere we researched led to a dead end. Despite our bad luck, we continued to research his history. Most of the time, we would discuss any details or plans in the backroom. It didn’t occur to me that Maria might be listening on the other side of the swinging door. This particular night, Maria alluded to Michael being green around the gills. Maria only needed to say one more thing to alert a ‘code green.’ She didn’t fail us when she blurted, “Michael, are you a Martia – I mean do you want a Martian Meal?” Maria only fumbled with her words when she was nervous or when she was trying to keep a secret…or both. The next day we had to explain to her everything we knew about Michael’s past.
So, when Alex told me that we had a code green, I knew just who it was: the FBI. Why else would he shove Alex out with Nathan? I stared at the wall behind Alex, trying not to let the tears well up behind my eyes. What was I supposed to do? Was I supposed to find Michael and rescue him? What would I do with Nathan in the meantime? And what if they caught me – I am an alien now, aren’t I?
“Come on Liz. I don’t think it’s safe for you or Nathan to stay here right now. We’ll call the police and catch these kidnappers.”
I follow Alex like a mechanical robot. My legs are numb; I can barely feel myself treading across the hallway to the backdoor. Alex leads me to my car. He takes Nathan out of my grip and securely places him in the baby seat.
Everything that is being played before me is moving in slow motion. My worst nightmare is playing out before my eyes. Michael’s worst nightmare is playing out before my eyes. I’m not sure what to do. My best friend, the guy I’ve known forever (time doesn’t exist in my memory before I knew Michael), is gone. He could be lying dead in a dumpster now and I wouldn’t know it. But I know the FBI; the last thing they would consider would be to kill someone they want to turn into a lab rat.
While I’m contemplating the drama of my own life, Alex drives us silently home; specifically to his home. My home is totaled. What am I going to tell the landlord? Why am I thinking about he landlord when I have bigger fish to fry? These fish are twice my size and go by the name ‘Special Unit.’ They are here to ruin Michael’s life, and I have to stop them – hopefully boil them in a steaming bowl of water. Yes, anyone who would hurt the best person in my life deserves a slow and painful death.
I look over to Alex who is a bit too focused on the road. He looked clueless when he told me that Michael and Isabel were gone. His eyes practically pleaded with me to tell him what happened to his girlfriend. That means he doesn’t know that the people who took his girlfriend were the FBI. I stare at the road ahead of me when it clicks. Isabel is an alien too. It seems insane that I didn’t figure it out at the house when Alex told me that Michael and Isabel were gone. Does this mean she’s the girl that Michael saw when he was younger? It would make sense. Isabel is a blonde and Michael swears that it was one of the most vivid details from his memory. Even in the night her hair shimmered. When the truck came – probably Isabel’s parents – he said the headlights hit her head, creating an array of golden streaks. Does Alex know his girlfriend is an alien? Of course he doesn’t. If he did he wouldn’t be questioning what happened at the apartment a little over an hour ago.
It’s not until Alex announces that we’ve arrived that I realize the car is at a stop. I look up at him and silently exit the car and grab Nathan out of his car seat. By the time we get inside, Alex sits on the couch and looks at me questionably.
“What happened back there? And don’t give me any bullshit because I know that you know.” I’ve never seen Alex this upset before. He seems angry. Ever since I met him, he has always been a fun loving nerd – and completely happy with the fact. The man before me is scared and confused.
Instead of encouraging this behavior to continue, I take a deep breath and begin my long explanation. It parallels the speech Michael and I gave Maria in so many ways. While I’m speaking – almost mechanically – I can’t help but wonder what I am going to tell Maria. She won’t want me to leave any details out (as with any story you tell Maria), but the truth is I have more questions than details myself. There’s no doubt she will probe Alex for his story as well. He was the last one with Michael and Isabel. The story he gave me still seems scanty. Once I’ve finished all the details of Michael’s life, and my assumption that Isabel is an alien, he looks at me skeptically. Instead of waiting for him to ask any questions, I forge ahead with my own, like his short story back at the scene of the crime.
“I told you what happened,” Alex says. He’s stressed. He keeps moving his leg as if something else is on his mind, but I have other matters to figure out right now like whether or not Michael can be saved by me, or if I have to assemble a group of law breaking individuals.
“You told me that Michael told you to pass along a message. ‘Code Green.’ Would you mind telling me what transpired before then?” My tone is biting. I have no time for bullshit or sympathy. Time is of the essence if we are going to catch up with those federal bastards that took my best friend and Alex’s best girlfriend away from us.
Alex takes a deep breath. He looks as if he’s trying to recall what happened during his stay with Isabel and Michael. I decide to give the guy a break. Who knows how much he has been through already today? I don’t need to build on his already mounting stress level. “Well, Isabel wanted me to come over to the apartment with her. She said she and Michael had something important to discuss with me. I imagine that it was the truth about their origin. Perhaps they found things out from the FBI about themselves. The conversation never happened, so all ideas of what it could have been are pure speculation. Isabel and I drove over to the apartment. I remember her saying something about having a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach. Then, we got to the apartment. We entered through the front door and sat down. Michael was cooking when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He asked us if we saw anything at one of the windows. He said he thought he saw a man, but we just brushed it off. Five minutes later, there was a knock on the door and about five black cars were parked outside of the house. That’s when he shouted the instructions that I told you back at the house. I don’t know why he didn’t run. Maybe he didn’t think that all of us could make it out alive. If I was the one to leave with Nathan and the feds caught me, I would be able to tell them that I didn’t know anything because I really didn’t. Thankfully, someone up there is watching out for your son because I didn’t think he and I would make it out of there without getting captured.”
I stare at Alex. His story wasn’t as detailed as I thought it might be. I mean, he described it in a detailed manner, but he doesn’t know any more than I do about the whole situation, except that it was the Special Unit that took Michael and Isabel from us.
“Can you think of a way to save them,” I ask Alex, hope apparent in my tone. When he shakes his head, I sit back into the couch with a sigh. Nathan is currently resting in my arms. First, we would need to find where they are, then we would have to formulate a plan to get them out, but don’t you need more than two people to execute a kidnapping? Obviously the FBI used at least ten people, assuming that there were two people in each squad car. And it was my luck that we only had two individuals. Knowing Maria, she would want to help the cause too. That makes three willing individuals. I laugh internally at the impossibility of it all.
Vaguely, I hear the phone ring in the background, but I’m too concentrated on coming up with a plan to save two people in my life that I love dearly. Michael is the equivalent to a twin to me. Not that I would know what having a twin is like, but my schema of what a twin would be is everything Michael represents. Isabel is like a big sister. She has helped me through the pregnancy by looking out for my style and babysitting for Nathan. I will never forget how she helped me, but I won’t have to remember her like she’s dead. Once Maria, Alex, and I save Michael and Isabel there will be many new memories to form.
Alex jars me from my thoughts. “Liz, it’s Maria.”
I stare at the phone as he asks me whether he should tell her the bad news or I should. I decide to go with the latter since it will hurt Maria to hear the news about Michael and who knows Michael better than I do? I can’t believe I have to break the news to her over the phone. I just know my heart will break into pieces when I hear Maria sobbing on the other line. It will only take seconds before I too start crying. I tell her the news and, as suspected, she starts weeping and I follow suit.
“Liz, I’m coming to L.A.,” she cries out. “We’re going to find a way to get those bastards at the FBI and we are going to save Michael and Isabel from whatever sort of hell they’re enduring right now. In fact, I’m packing right now, chica.”
My tone quickly changes to one of heartfelt apology to one that is more businesslike. “Maria, listen to me. It’s not safe to go to the apartment right now. Hell, I don’t even know if it’s safe to talk on the phone with you about this. All I know is that you can’t go to the apartment Michael and I shared. They totaled the whole building. I don’t know what they were looking for – other than Michael and Isabel – but they sure as hell couldn’t find it. Just come straight to Alex and Isabel’s when you get into town.”
“Okay, Liz. I’m leaving Roswell tonight. God knows I won’t be getting any sleep sitting in Roswell; I might as well make a night out of it.”
“I love you, Maria.”
“I love you too, Liz.”
I hang up the phone and look at Alex. “What are we going to do?”
“We’ll figure something out. With Maria’s help this thing becomes more realistic.” Alex walks over to me and gives Nathan and me a gentle hug. “You two take the bed. I wish I had a crib, but we’ll just have to make do for now.”
Author's Note: These last 2 chapters have been pretty slow. Luckily, my plans for the next 2 chapters should pick up pace. Once again, I'm hoping to have 2 chapters out by next Thursday. Then, I have to college orientation and all that fun stuff. I'm really liking where this is going and I'm happy to hear that you are all liking it as well. On my bad days, your comments motivate me to write more chapters, so thank you for helping me to complete this fic - it's been two years and counting right now!