Invincible (AU,M/L,Mature) NEW Part 12 - 12/08/04 [WIP]

[sugarplum17]

Reposting this because I'm working on a new part. Just wanted to let everyone know. And Schurry made me this wonderful banner. Thanks schurry, wherever you are!

Title: Invincible

Author: sugarplum1702@yahoo.com

Rating: Mature

Disclaimer: I got the idea for this fic from the movie Girlfight starring Michelle Rodriguez. The TV show Roswell, and its characters do not belong to me. They belong to Melinda Metz and Jason Katims. Probably a studio too, I'm not sure. I'll put them back when I'm done playing, I promise. Title comes from a . . . Pat Benatar song.

Summary: One day while Liz is out running an errand for her father, she finds herself in a renowned boxing gym and instantly feels a connection with what's going on all around her, and with a boxer who happens to catch her eye.

Author's Note(s): I started this fic AGES ago, and it's high time that I attempt to finish it.

<center></center>

<center>***
Part One</center>

All around her the sounds of shouting could be heard. She could only make out a few of them. They were encouraging her, because that's how it always went. If she was losing, they would be encouraging Pam, the girl she was beating up. But the mob always loved the victor, it was the way of the world. The way of her school.

"Stupid bitch!" She screamed out, over the encouraging shouts from her fellow students. She slammed her fist hard into Pam's ribs one more time before she was pulled off of the girl with the dirty blonde hair, her legs kicking out infront of her. "Let me go! Let go of me, I'll kill that fuckin' bitch!"

And before she knew it, she was being drug down the hallway, toward Principle Topolsky's office. Her favorite place to be. She rolled her eyes and looked away from the hand that gripped her arm tightly. Her science teacher. She hated that prick.

<center>***</center>

"She was lookin at me wrong." Liz told Kathleen Topolsky snottily. Her arms crossed over her small breasts as she slid further down into the chair. She ached to put her feet up on Kathleen's desk, to show her disrespect, and without a second thought, that's what she did.

Kathleen inhaled a deep, calming breath and pushed herself out of her seat. She wasn't going to let this girl get to her. Not today. Walking around to the side of the desk, she pushed Liz's dirty black combat boots off the corner of her desk and leaned against it. "So is that what you're going to do every time someone looks at you wrong, Ms. Parker? Beat them up? You think that'll get you anywhere in life?"

"No." She answered curtly. "But that's what she gets for being a skanky bitch."

"Ms. Parker, this is your fourth fight this month. You better clean up your act little girl. Or I'll be forced to expel you." Ms. Topolsky told her, in hopes of scaring her straight.

"Who cares?" Liz shot back, rolling her eyes and looking away from the pretty blonde infront of her. "Who cares if I get expelled?"

"I think you better ask yourself that Ms. Parker." Kathleen shot back, pushing herself up off of her desk and walking behind it once again. "Detention. Same time, same place."

"I think I'll be able to find it." Liz shot back sarcastically, narrowing her eyes at the woman. "How long?"

"The rest of this week as well as all of the next." Kathleen answered, folding her hands on the desk. "Although, you can always add more time on, if you'd like."

"Oh yeah?" Liz asked snottily. "And how would I go about doing that, Kathleen?"

"Keep talking to me the way that you're talking and you'll see." Kathleen answered, staring right into the girl's big brown doe eyes. Such deceiving eyes. Kathleen thought to herself. They almost made you believe that this slip of a girl, with her khaki carpenter pants and her evergreen shirt that was made out of long underwear material, her long brown hair fastened at the nape of her neck, those eyes almost made a person believe that she was harmless. Sweet even. But she was nothing but salt.

They faced off for a few moments before Liz finally looked away, rolling her eyes. "Can I go now?"

With a nod of the woman's head, Liz Parker was out of her seat and out of the door before she even had time to blink.

[sugarplum17]

<center>***
Part Two</center>

"You shouldn't have done that Liz." Maria said as they walked home together, side by side. "You're just gettin yourself into more trouble."

"I don't care. Pam Troy deserved it." Liz told her seriously, as she looked into the windows of the shops that they passed.

"You know Pam doesn't mean half the stuff she says." Alex told her, from her other side. He hated hearing about Liz getting into fights. He was never there for them, because he was always busy doing something, trying to make something of himself by studying up in the library or dicking around in the computer lab in between classes.

"I don't care Alex. I hate that stupid bitch." Liz told him seriously. "I know you guys are sort of friends with her or whatever, but I don't care. She's always looking into that stupid fucking mirror she carries around with her. ‘Excuse me while I fix my lip stick before I suck your dick.' That's all she's good for anyway."

Despite themselves, Maria and Alex laughed. They didn't judge Pam for it, but damn, when something was true it was true.

"You tellin your parents when you get home?" Alex asked as he hooked his hands underneath the straps of his backpack.

"No." Liz answered without hesitation. "All it's gonna do is piss my dad off."

"Yeah," Maria nodded her head in agreement before turning her head toward Liz. "But you know Ms. Topolsky is gonna call."

"Yeah, I know." Liz answered quietly. Her eyes drifting down to look at her feet as she walked along the dirty pavement. "I'll deal with that when I have to."

<center>***</center>

Hauling her tired ass up the stairs to the apartment she shared with both her mom and dad, Liz sighed. She had already decided that she wasn't going to tell them about the fight she was in today. It would just upset her father, and in her house, you never wanted to upset Jeff Parker. The end result was never pretty. Her mother had found that out the hard way. Many, many times.

Fishing in her pocket for her keys, she pulled them out and flipped through them. She lived in a tiny apartment on 4th street with her parents but she sure had a lot of keys. There was one for the door downstairs, which stayed locked twenty four hours a day. One for the door just inside that, which was locked at 10 P.M.. One for the laundry room. One for their mail box. One for the side entrance, and finally, the key that opened the door to her own personal hell.

She paused with the key hovering just infront of the lock, pressing her ear to the door. If they were fighting again, she didn't want to be there. She didn't want to bear witness to how truly weak her mom was, and how truly mean her dad could be.

Luckily, today it was silent. The only thing she could hear was the sound of Oprah's voice booming out of the speakers of their TV, grating on her nerves already. Closing her eyes and sighing, she slid her key into the lock and turned it.


"Where's dad?" Liz asked quietly as she shut the door behind her. Her mother was sitting on the couch, her hair covering her left eye.

"He went out." Nancy answered quietly. "There's a poker game going on, I think."

"Figures." Liz retorted, slipping off her back pack and tossing it in a corner of the room.

"He left somethin for you." Her mother said demurely as she slowly got off the couch and disappeared into the other room.

It looked to Liz as if she were in pain. The thought made her look toward the window and catch her bottom lip between her teeth. She had learned long ago, not to say anything about the bruises. Not to comment on how her mother moved around as if her muscles were always sore. Sore from trying to push him away from her. All her mother did was brush it off, as if it were nothing.

Suddenly her mom was beside her, startling her with a light touch on the arm. "Here."

Taking the money from her mother's hand, Liz looked at in confusion. Her father had never left money for her. She glanced curiously at her mom. "What's this for?"

"He said that you're to go give it to someone. A man by the name of Jim Valenti." Nancy told her. "I don't know what for, and I'm not sure that I want to know what for. But he left the directions to Jim's place on the TV."


Nancy watched her daughter pocket the money and head toward her room. She inhaled a breath and ignored the pain that it caused her. "You should take that now. Before he gets home. He'll be upset if he gets back and it hasn't been done."

Without missing a step, Liz turned and headed in the direction she had come from. Walking to the television and grabbing the directions off of it, putting the slip of paper into her pocket to rest with the money. "Fine. I'm out."

<center>***</center>

Clutching the paper loosely in her hand, she stepped off of the bus and onto the sidewalk. The building before her looked like an abandoned warehouse, and for a moment she was confused. Why would her dad send her here? To a place where she could potentially be robbed and raped in some dank building by a junkie. Shrugging, she mentally told herself that she could take care of herself and entered the building.


She'd been wrong. It wasn't abandoned. Looking around her, she could see that it was very much . . . in use. Walking up to an older man dozing behind his desk, she cleared her throat, startling him awake. "I'm lookin for Valenti."

"Up the stairs and in the back." The old man said through a yawn, scratching his nearly bald white head of hair.

She pushed aside the heavy clear plastic that covered the entrance to the staircase and looked around the stairwell. All guys from what she could see. With weird lookin helmets and some with boxing gloves. One guy, on the landing of the second floor caught her attention.

He was leaning against the wall talking to his friend, a red sucker in his hand, which was wrapped in tape, and hovering at his perfect lips. His dark brown hair was tousled and damn with sweat. Her eyes were drawn to his biceps as he had one arm across his chest and tucked underneath the other. If she were the obvious type, she would have whistled.

Instead, she entered the entrance fully and walked up the stairs, coming to a stop before the two guys. His friend, the one he was talking to, had some unruly lookin hair sticking up in every which way on the top of his head. Darkened with sweat, but naturally a dirty blonde, she could tell. And a scowl on his otherwise, somewhat handsome face, when he noticed her standing infront of them.

"I-" She stuttered unexpectedly as her gorgeous boxer turned his piercing hazel eyes on her. Clearing her throat, she tried again. "I'm lookin for Valenti."

The one with the scowl on her face tipped his head to the side in a quick, over there gesture, the scowl still very much on his face. "Through that door, in the back."

She noticed her gorgeous boxer stand up a little straighter, look past her and smile slightly, and her curiosity got the better of her. She turned her head to see who he was looking at, and saw a pretty blonde haired girl coming up the stairs. Her ample cleavage popping out of the v in her shirt, and her curls bouncing as she took the steps.

"Thanks." She told the scowly-faced guy before turning toward the doorway. Figured that such a beautiful guy was already taken by such a beautiful girl. She should have known.


Walking through the doorway, her step faltered. There were guys all over the place. Jumping rope, sparring, doing sit ups, running through tires, practicing on the punching bags, pummeling that little ball that hung from the ceiling. She didn't know what it was called. Looking farther into the room, into the back where everyone she'd asked had said Valenti would be, she spotted a ring.

Two guys were in there practicing. One of them was hopping around, lookin to Liz like he thought he was Mike Tyson. Like he could float like a butterfly. She rolled her eyes and scanned the faces of the men outside the ring. There were at least six of them, and she had to decide which one was Jim Valenti.

Setting her sights on one of them, she walked toward him and repeated the only thing she'd said since she entered the building. "I'm lookin for Valenti."

The man gave her no indication that he had even heard her question, so she repeated it once again and stood impatiently to his side, wondering if he was deaf. Stepping a little closer to the man, she raised her voice a notch. "I'm looking for Valenti."

"Jab!" The man called out, startling her. "Jab him Ricky! Don't let him put you in a corner!"

Turning away from him, she looked around the gym and spotted the gorgeous boxer standing near the door, talking to the pretty blonde again. Except while the girl was talking, his eyes were making contact with someone else. And she almost couldn't believe it was her!

"Watch your footwork!" The man called out again, ripping her attention away from her gorgeous boxer and focusing it on himself once again. His arms crossed over his chest and his eyes watching the sparring in the ring critically.

Seconds later, the match was over and he finally turned to her. "You got him, what do you want?"

"You're Valenti?" She asked suspiciously. She was wondering why this jerk couldn't just tell her straight off, instead of making her wait around.

"Last time I checked." He told her gruffly. "Who are you?"

"I'm Liz." She answered, reaching into her pocket. "My dad wanted me to give this to you."

Pulling out the money, she pressed it into his palm. "You're dad, huh?" He asked her, looking down at the money in his hand. "And who's he?"

"Jeff Parker." She told him, hesitating only a brief second.

"Well, you tell your old man I said thanks." Valenti told her as he pocketed the money and turned away from her.

"Right." She turned away from him and started toward the door. "Sure will."

[sugarplum17]

<center>***
Part Three</center>

When she returned home that evening all was quiet. Her mother was in the kitchen making dinner and her father sat in his favorite reclining chair in the corner of their living room, sipping a beer and watching the evening news.

"You do what I asked you to?" He asked her as she sat down on their lumpy couch, not bothering to spare her a glance.

"It's not exactly like you asked me, but yeah." She answered somewhat snottily. She always had to watch herself with her dad. Sometimes he was in the mood for her attitude and sometimes he wasn't. Everything that she said to him, she said with caution, even if it was in the heat of the moment. Because she never knew when he wasn't gonna be in the mood for it.

"Oooh," He said after taking another sip of his beer and resting the butt of the can on the arm rest. "Someone has their panties in a bunch today."

She shrugged her shoulders as she listened to the anchor woman's report on a twelve-year-old boy found in an alley not far from her home. Shot five times. Her dad was obviously in the mood for her attitude tonight.

"You get cleaned out at the game?" She asked him as she continued to listen to the facts of the case.

"Nah." He answered, his eyes focused on the television. Crushing his head further back into the cushion of his recliner, he craned his neck to look into the kitchen. "Dinner almost ready?" He called, his sudden question making his wife jump.

"Y-yeah. Almost." She called back over her shoulder. "Should be about ten more minutes."

"You need some help?" Liz called from her spot on the couch.

When she received confirmation from her mother, she pushed herself off of the couch. Ignoring the urge to deck her dad when he muttered something about Nancy not being able to take a shit without help.


"Your principle called today." Nancy said in almost a whisper, looking over her shoulder to see her husband immersed in the glow of the television. "While he was out."

Liz cast a quick glance her dad's way before turning back to the piece of chicken she was frying on the stove. "You gonna tell him?"

"Of course not." Nancy whispered. "But this has to stop Liz. Your luck is gonna run out sooner or later, I can't keep intercepting the calls. He's bound to get one and all hell will break loose when he does."


"Yeah," Liz told her as she removed the piece of chicken from the hot oil and set it on a plate with the others. "I know."

<center>***</center>

For the next three days, things stayed quiet. Some would have called it normal, but in the Parker home, it was definitely abnormal. Liz was on pins and needles waiting for something to happen. She was waiting for her mother to screw something up, in some minuscule way, and her father to blow his lid. She didn't have to wait long.

On the fourth day of their quietness, the shit finally hit the fan. Jeff had been searching for something, Liz didn't know what. She'd been inside her room studying when she heard his first angry shout, and half way out her window when she heard the first sound of a body being pushed into something.

She wasn't even half way down the fire escape when she figured it all out. Her mother had a passion for painting, and a talent for it too. Her father thought it was a waste of time. When her feet hit the pavement, she took off running, realizing that her dad had found Nancy's cheap paint set. The kind that you bought in a drug store for a little kid.


Finally her place slowed to a stop. Resting her palms on her knees, she bent over and stared down at the pavement, panting hard. She had run for what seemed like an hour, maybe two. Her throat and lungs were burning and the saliva coated her mouth as if she were a rabid dog. Spitting out as much of it as she could, she raised one hand to her lips and wiped them with the back of her hand.

Looking up, she noticed that she had run all the way to the gym where she had handed Valenti his money days ago. She looked around at the surrounding buildings, amazed that she had run so far without even realizing where she was headed. She had just taken off, left everything, all her problems and thoughts behind her and ran with everything she had in her. Putting her hands on her hips and breathing hard, she stared up at the gym.

<center>***</center>

"Jab!" Valenti yelled out at his pupil. Once again he was completely focused on the match, whether it was sparring or a real one. Nothing outside the ring could phase him. It didn't matter if you were standing right next to him, in his line of sight. He wouldn't notice you, but Liz had a theory.

She walked right past her handsome boxer, who was practicing his punches on the air, without noticing how his eyes followed her across the room. She walked past a line of guys jumping rope to where Valenti was standing in the back, watching his pupil spar.

Getting right into his line of sight, standing directly infront of him, Liz reached out and pushed him backward. In some sort of effort to get his attention. "Train me." She said demandingly when his eyes met hers.

"What?" He asked, somewhat confused and trying to regain his balance. He looked at the petite girl infront of him, and even though she had taken him completely by surprise, was surprised at her power.

"Train me." She repeated, just as demanding as the first time. "I want to train with you."

He looked at her and nodded his head. "Sure training is a good work out."

"No." She said defiantly. Her attitude would get her no where, she knew that, but she couldn't make herself stop. "I wanna fight."


"No." He told her as he stepped around her and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Why not?" She demanded to know, stepping around him to once again block his sight of the ring. "Because I'm a girl?"

"Look. This is a very dangerous sport. Girls aren't suited for it." He told her, trying to move her aside so he could see his trainee inside the ring.

"Yeah, well I didn't make the cheerleading team." She shot back sarcastically, not letting herself be pushed aside. "Train me Valenti. I wanna box."

Looking at the girl infront of him, he took in her defiant posture, and the look of determination on her face. Girls couldn't box, and they certainly couldn't box with boys. They just weren't made for it, not like boys were. Everybody knew it. Everybody except this girl. He sighed. "I charge $20 a week. No more no less."

"I don't have that kind of money." She said quietly, her gaze wavering for a split second, and her attitude slipping. "But I'll get it." And with that, she turned around on her heel and walked off toward the exit. This time letting her eyes skim over her handsome boxer quickly.

Jim Valenti watched her walk out of the room from where she had left him standing, his arms crossed over his chest and a hint of a smile on his face. A small, chauvinistic part of him was sure that she wouldn't even last two weeks. Another part of him, a bigger part of him, thought that maybe this girl had what it would take to make it. What exactly ‘it' was, he didn't know, but something inside of him said that she had it.

[sugarplum17]

<center>***
Part Four</center>

Three days later, Jim Valenti found himself standing infront of a determined Liz Parker. He had never even really believed that she would get the money, but here she was, waving it in his face. Part of him wondered how she got it. Had she sold herself for it? Had she stolen something? He hoped not.

"You don't sweat for me you're outta my life." He told her, crossing his hands over his chest and giving her a hard look. He didn't think it'd scare her much, and he was right. Her facial expression was made up of defiance and determination. She wouldn't sweat for him, she'd sweat for herself, and they both knew it.

"Go see Jimmy about a locker." He said as he walked away from her, toward another one of his trainees.

<center>***</center>

She stood in the little janitorial closet, holding the strap of her backpack tightly in one hand and looking around the small room. This would be her locker; her dressing room. She couldn't exactly change with the guys in the real locker room. She knew that. The gym giving her the closet, it would be the only way she would allow herself to be treated differently. They weren't going to be soft on her because she was the only woman amongst a gym full of men.

She changed into her sweat pants, making sure to stick the money that she had stolen out of her father's wallet while he was passed out, securely into her sock. She quickly put on her sports bra and a loose-fitting shirt over it before putting her shoes back on and stepping out of the room.

Before she was even fully out the door, she collided with something hard to her right. "Jesus, man! Why don't you wat-"

Golden skin. Perfectly toned muscles. Full lips. The most beautiful hazel eyes she'd ever seen.

She shook herself out of it. "Watch where you're going."

"It's not like I was expecting someone to come out of this closet." He commented, dropping his hands from her shoulders, which he had grabbed in an effort to steady them both. "Nobody uses it anyway. I wasn't aware that I had to be on guard."

"Yeah, well I use it." She told him informatively. "So now you know."

With that said, she pushed past him, her whole right side brushing up against his.

<center>***</center>

"Look at that." Michael said from the metal folding chair he was sitting on. "Just look at it."

Max, who had one foot resting on the chair next to Michael and his elbow resting on that same knee, turned his head and looked in the direction that Michael had gestured toward. "Yeah?"

"Who does Valenti think he is?" Michael asked incredulously. He pointed at the girl again. "Bringing that girl in here. Training her to be a fighter." He scoffed.

Max's eyes roamed over the girl. From the top of her head down to the hunch of her shoulders as she mimicked the stance that Valenti was currently showing her. He let his eyes drift lower, down the slight curve of her back and lingered on her butt for just a few seconds before he brought them back up to watch her throw her jabs. "I don't know."

Michael's head turned from the sight of a mockery toward his best friend. "What?"

"Look at her Mike." Max said to his friend. "She's got a good stance. Looks strong enough. I think the girl might be able to take care of herself in the ring."

"What?" Michael asked incredulously.

"I ain't sayin she can win a fight against a guy." Max said, finally looking away from the girl. "I'm just sayin, she can take care of herself. That's all."

<center>***</center>

"You can't get any balance that way." Valenti said to her, as he moved behind her and kicked the outsides of both her feet lightly. "Move these together."

She looked down at her feet and then did as told. "Like this?" She asked, looking back up at her trainer's reflection in the mirror.

"Yeah." He answered. "Like that. See, that way you can hit ‘em up from different angles."

He showed her quickly what he was talking about and then watched with a critical eye as she did the same. "Good."

He made her practice until she her sweat soaked through the cotton of her T-shirt. It was only then that he allowed her to sit down on a bench and rest.

"Hey Valenti?" She asked him, her eyes watching the two guys sparring in the ring.

"Yeah?" He asked her, his eyes watching the same thing.

"Why did my dad have me give you that money?" She asked curiously. "What was it for?"

"A session."

"Oh." She said, something new catching her eye. It was that blonde girl. The one she had seen that very first day that she was there. The girl that had lit up her handsome boxer's face. The girl with the mass amount of cleavage popping out of the V in her shirt.

Liz looked down at her chest and then back up at the blonde. Barbie's boobs weren't nothin special. Nothin Pam Anderson like, but they were definitely bigger than the ones she was sporting. She sighed as Barbie walked over to the ring, and watched as her hottie with a body approached her and leaned through the ropes to give her a kiss. She was really gonna have to find out his name.

[sugarplum17]

<center>***
Part Five</center>

“What’s the deal with that guy?” She asked, nodding her head in the direction of the spiky haired boxer whom she had encountered on her first visit.

Valenti looked in his general direction, before shrugging. “That’s Michael.”

“Oh ok, so that explains why he’s been scowling’ at me like a goon ever since I got here.” She said sarcastically. “Because he’s Michael.”

Valenti had to suppress his smile. “He’s kind of a chauvinist.” He told her, his tone nonchalant. “Most guys ‘round here are.”

“So he doesn’t think I belong here then?” Liz asked as she stared into his scowling face from across the gym, allowing her defiance and determination to shine through her eyes. She crossed her arms as she leaned her back against the cool wall. If he wanted to play, she would play.

“Nope, I reckon he doesn’t.” Jim told her, watching the interaction between the two with interest. “Michael’s something of a loose cannon around here.” He commented. “So mind your step around him.”

“You know what I think?” She asked him brazenly. “I think he better mind his step around me.”


God, she’s got guts! Jim thought to himself as he turned his head away from her, unable to hide his smile this time. He hadn’t known her that long, but he was starting to find himself wishing that he and his wife had had a daughter with an attitude that mirrored this young girl’s. He was kind of glad she had been so pushy with him, demanding that he train her to fight. He was hopefully keeping her out of trouble.

“Um . . . who’s that?” Her sudden meek tone of voice caught his attention, and he looked to where she was pointing.

“That’s Max.” He stated. He eyed her curiously as she watched the bronzed boxer. It was no surprise that a girl found the boy attractive, but it surprised him that she did. Somehow, he had thought that she was . . . devoid of such emotions. Or something like that.


Max. She thought to herself, letting the name roll around in her head. He looked like a Jason. Max . . . so that’s your name.

“He’s good.” She commented. He watched her eyes drop to the floor, and a blush creep up her cheeks.

“Yep.” His gaze traveled from the petite fighter next to him, to the guy who was dancing around in the ring. “He was my best pupil.”

“You train him?” She asked, her head snapping up and over to look at him. She mentally cringed at how eager and interested she had sounded.

“Used to.” Jim told her.

<center>***</center>

She stared at herself in the mirror above her dresser as she practiced her uppercut and threw a left hook. She was good, Valenti had begrudgingly told her so, but she had her flaws, her weaknesses. Her footwork was sloppy for one thing, and she could stand a little more endurance for another. She had to work on them, or they’d be her downfall in the ring, and she wasn’t willing to work on them sometimes. It didn’t matter if she was at the gym or not, she would work on them. She also planned on making visits to the track at school every once in a while, to up her endurance and stamina. Although . . . when she thought about Max, she thought of other ways to increase her stamina . . . Say what?! She shook her head and smiled at her reflection as she continued to bob and weave infront of the mirror. Bad Liz, that’s bad.

Outside her room, she heard her father raising his voice and her mother’s demure plea. As she stopped her ministrations and listened to them fight for a brief moment, she wondered why her mom even bothered to say anything anymore. She always said, “Please . . . ” but it never helped, it never got him to back off. It never stopped him from hitting her. She scowled as she snatched up her walkman from where it sat across the room on her desk.

She angrily shoved ear pieces into her ears, turned the volume up as far as it would go and pressed play, hoping to drown out the sounds. Her movements became more and more agitated when she started practicing infront of the mirror again. Even more so as the beat of the drums started the song.


This bloody road remains a mystery
This sudden darkness fills the air
What we waiting’ for?
Won’t anybody help us?
What we waiting’ for?
We can’t afford to be innocent
Stand up and face the enemy
It’s a do or die situation
We will be invincible


One day . . . She thought, her nostrils flaring. Her breathing was getting heavier, harsher. One day dad . . .


This shattered dream you cannot justify
We’re gonna scream until we’re satisfied
What we runnin' for?
We’ve got the right to be angry
What we runnin’ for?
When there’s no where we can run to anymore?


She watched her reflection dodge an imaginary fist, knowing that her mother was out there getting caught by a real one. She hated him. She hated him so much, but she loved him too. But one day . . . she was gonna show him what it was like. One day she was gonna show him how Nancy Parker felt. One day, Jeff Parker was gonna know the fear that Nancy knew, and he was going to become intimate with it.


We can’t afford to be innocent
Stand up and face the enemy
It’s a do or die situation
We will be invincible

She had to train harder. Because one day was coming soon. She just didn’t know when or how. Maybe it would sneak up on them all? If her mother wasn’t going to stand up for herself, someone else would have to do it. And if Liz was the only person willing to stand? So be it.


Won’t anybody help us?
What we runnin’ for?
When there’s no where, no where we can run to anymore

We can’t afford to be innocent
Stand up and face the enemy
It’s a do or die situation
We will be invincible
And with the power of conviction
There is no sacrifice
It’s a do or die situation
We will be invincible


One day . . . one day soon . . .

[sugarplum17]

<center>***
Part Six</center>

Drops of sweat rolled down her back, soaking through the cotton of her sports bra. She was seemingly in a trance as she pumped her legs. Her eyes were focused straight ahead and her legs were beginning to burn, but she ignored it and sped up a little more. Her feet were pounding against the pavement of the track she ran on. When she had first started out running, she hadn’t been able to run one lap around the track, but now that she had more endurance she could run two laps around the track no sweat.

Not exactly no sweat. She thought to herself as her pace began to slow. When she was down to a slow jog and over the finish line, she veered off into the grass and threw herself down on its lushness. Breathing heavily, she looked up into the bright blue sky for a few moments before she closed her eyes. Her hand was reaching out to find the towel she knew was near by, but came into contact with a shoe instead.

What the fuck? She thought as her eyes snapped open and she rolled her head to the side. She was gasping before she even had the chance to stop herself from doing so, because there before her stood Max her bronzed boxer, in all his beautiful glory. He wore blue track pants that rode low on his narrow hips, and a white T-shirt that did nothing to hide his muscles from her brown doe-like eyes.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologized as he thrust his hand out in her direction.

Before she even had time to register what was happening and what he was offering, her hand shot out only to come into contact with cloth. Diverting her eyes to his hand, she noticed for the first time that he held her towel in it. “Thanks.” She breathed out harshly, taking the white terry cloth towel from his hand.


He watched her closely as she pushed herself up into a sitting position and dabbed the towel over her sweat slicked skin. Her chocolate colored hair was a shade or two darker due to its dampness, and had been fastened back in a loose pony tail. Allowing his eyes to skim lower, he noted her attire. She wore a white sports bra leaving her flat stomach exposed to him. The sports bra left nothing to the imagination. He could clearly see her nipples poking through the fabric. She’s small . . . He thought to himself, comparing her chest with Tess’s. It was like comparing peaches and watermelons.

His honey-colored eyes didn’t have a chance to continue their pursuit of her body, as her soft feminine voice floated up to his ears. “You run here too?”

For a moment he was confused, the question catching him off guard. “Hmm?” He asked shaking his head.

“You run here too?” She asked again, slightly annoyed with having to repeat herself.

He shook his head. “No, not really.”

She looked up at him questioningly, momentarily thinking that he was there for her or something, before dismissing the foolish romantic notion. He wouldn’t have come there for her, not when he had Barbie’s clone sitting at home with her curly blonde hair and her humongous boobs. The thought made Liz begin to feel inadequate.

“I usually run on a track that’s closer to my house.” He had no idea why he was telling her. “But, the track team was out there today.”

After a short amount of silence, he dropped to sit on the ground beside her. As he watched her out of the corner of his eye, he pretended to make sure that the laces in his shoes were tied tight. He had no idea why he wanted the moment to last. He had Tess for crying out loud. Tess was a knock out and there wasn’t anything overtly special about this girl beside him, at least, that’s what he kept telling himself anyway.

“You’re Liz right?”

Keep your cool Liz. She mentally told herself. She was surprised that he knew her name, she had thought that he hadn’t really noticed her, but she had obviously thought wrong. “Um, yeah.”

He watched as she reached into her gym bag and pulled out a bottle of water. She seemed so uninterested in him . . . most girls were falling all over themselves when he spoke to them. But then again, he had already figured out that she wasn’t like most girls.

“I’m Max.” He watched the delicate curve of her neck as she tipped her head back to take a drink of the water. He couldn’t name one thing that he had ever seen in his entire life that was sexier than that. He fought the overpowering urge to attach his lips to the tender flesh.

“Yeah, I know.” She told him as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I’ve seen you around the gym.”

He nodded his head, unsure of what to say to her next and latching onto the first subject that popped into his mind. “So how’s Jim workin’ out?”

“He’s great.” She said warmly. “I’m really learning a lot from him . . . he’s a good trainer.”

Max nodded his head in agreement as he situated himself so that he could stare into her face. She wore no makeup, it was kind of plain lookin’, but it was nice. “Yeah, he knows his stuff.”

“Why’d you stop training with him?” She asked before she could stop herself. After a short silence she added, “You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to. I mean, if you don’t feel comfortable talking about it with me . . . ”

“I wanted to go pro.” He told her. “Jim wasn’t gonna make it happen for me . . . he’s a good guy, a great trainer, but he’s a lot of talk sometimes and hardly any action.”

He watched her stand up, fearful that he had said something to offend her. He was about to tell her he was sorry when she spoke, her tone very non-confrontational.

“So you think he’s all talk in regards to me?” She asked curiously as she began stretching out her legs. She’d read somewhere that it was best to stretch before and after your run.

He seemed to consider her question for a few seconds before answering. “Nah, he seems pretty serious about you. I heard him telling Hector that you were good.” He replied as he let his eyes skim over her body once more, this time his gaze resting on her backside. She had more junk in the trunk than Tess did, which was never a bad thing. He was an ass-man after all, and from what he could see, she had a perfect ass.


Coming to a halt on the sidewalk, Maria reached out and grabbed the fabric of her friend’s shirt, pulling him back to stand beside her. “Oooooh, Alex! Look,” she said pointing to their right, “don’t that look like Liz?”

Squinting, Alex followed Maria’s gaze. “I don’t know, all I see is ass.”

“You’re gonna tell me you’ve never checked out Liz’s ass?” Maria asked, sighing in exasperation.

“Are you gonna tell me you have?” Alex asked, sounding slightly excited by the thought.

“Alex, my dear. When a girl checks out another girl’s . . . assets . . . she’s just comparing bodies, seeing if she measures up. It’s purely a non-sexual thing sweetie, get your mind out of the gutter.” Maria scolded, softly pushing his head with her hand. “I think that’s Liz’s bubble butt. I’m gonna call her over here.”

“Looks like she might be busy.” Alex commented, pointing a long and slender finger toward the guy sitting beside her. They appeared to be talking, although Alex couldn’t be sure since he couldn’t see Liz’s face - if that was in fact her.

“Liz!” Maria called out, ignoring Alex completely. She had not missed the guy sitting beside Liz. She wasn’t gonna lie. Maria Deluca was one-hundred-percent woman! He was the first thing she had noticed.


At the sound of her name, they both looked toward the direction it had come from. Muttering an obscenity, Liz stood up straight. She was reluctant to let the moment she had been sharing with Max - however small and ordinary it might have been - end, but she didn’t want Maria to come traipsing over to them and finding out Liz’s secret. She hadn’t even told her two best friends that she was training, and if they met Max, they would know for sure.

“Um, well . . . I guess I’ll see you at the gym.” She told him as she quickly shoved her things into her bag.

“Yeah . . . bye!” He called out as she began jogging away from him. He watched as she tossed her bag over the fence that separated the school grounds from the sidewalk, and turned away only after she had safely scaled the fence landing on the other side.


“Hey Maria, hey Alex.” She greeted slightly winded.

“Chica, who was that hunk of man meat sitting out there on the track with you?” Maria asked, looping her arm through Liz’s and casting a glance back in Max’s direction. “He’s hot.”

“Um, that’s Max.” Liz told her, casting a glance backward as well.

“Single? Straight?” Maria inquired, letting herself be pulled along as Liz started walking.

“Uh, you know Maria, I don’t really know.” Liz smiled at her friend, looping her arm through Alex’s as they all walked side by side on the sidewalk. “But if he is, I got dibs.”

[sugarplum17]

<center>***
Part Seven A</center>

Smoothing a hand over her dress, Liz took a deep breath before raising her hand to knock on the wooden door before her. She was nervous about meeting Jim’s family. He had invited her to his son’s engagement party, and she had taken two buses and a cab to get to it. She’d even braved the perverted stare of the cabby in his rear view as she changed in the back seat.

Now there she was, at the Valenti home, about to meet his son and . . . did he have a wife? She guessed that if he had a son there must be a Mrs. Valenti. Or even an ex-Mrs. Valenti, the woman would have to be here for her son’s engagement party, right?

Quickly, she let her knuckles rap against the glossy wood and brought her hand to her side. Moments that seemed like hours passed before the door opened to reveal a pretty older woman, who must have been about Jim’s age, with her blonde hair that was mostly gray now. A smile lit up the woman’s face, “Hello, you must be Liz, right?”

This definitely had to be Mrs. Valenti. Liz liked her already. She felt her own lips twisting into a smile. “Hi.”

“Oh, I’ve heard so much about you.” The woman gushed as she reached out and gently took hold of Liz’s forearm, effectively pulling her inside. “The first female boxer the gym has ever had, that must be so exciting!”

Oh yes, she definitely liked Mrs. Valenti. “Yeah, it is.”

“I’ve heard you’re a really good boxer, Liz.” Liz’s heart swelled with respect for the man training her as his wife paid her compliments, she couldn’t believe Jim had said that about her. “I’m going to have to drag my old butt to the gym to see you fight one of these days!” Pointing a slender finger toward the sliding glass doors, the woman directed Liz to where Jim was outside, and gave her a light push to send her on her way.

Walking through the door to the backyard, Liz quickly sought out Jim and went over to him, giving him a light hug. “Liz! I’m so glad you could make it. Let me introduce you to people.”

As they walked around, Jim introducing her to various strangers, Liz caught sight of Max. She hadn’t seen him since that day at the track, and the sight of him now sent chills down her spine and butterflies to take flight in her stomach. He was wearing khaki shorts and a nice blue button down shirt. She couldn’t help but notice how good his tan and muscular calves looked. She smiled at him when their eyes met, and looked away quickly.

“This here is my son Kyle.” Jim said, putting his arm around the man infront of Liz. He had maybe an inch on Liz, and definitely more muscle than Max, but as she stood there contemplating him, she came to the conclusion that she could take him.

“This must be the protege.” Kyle smiled warmly at her as he extended his hand. “It’s so nice to finally meet you Liz, dad’s been talking nonstop about you.”

She felt herself blush as she laughed, to cover her embarrassment. “It’s nice to finally meet you too, Kyle. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

His laughter surprised her, she hadn’t said anything funny has she. “She’s not a very good liar, dad.” Kyle said, casting his dad a sideways glance and grinning at him. She was going to inquire. It made her curious. But she knew the comment was most likely family business, so she let it go. She hadn’t noticed any resentment in his tone anyway.

“So how’s the old gym treatin’ you?” Kyle asked her, turning his attention back to her. “I heard they stuck you in that supply closet.”

“Yeah, they did.” She nodded. “But you know, I understand. I can’t change with the guys and they have no where else for me to change, so . . . ”

“Well, I’m sure if they weren’t so chauvinistic down there, they could make room for you.” A tall, slender blonde said as she wrapped her arm around Kyle’s waist. Smiling, the blonde thrust her hand in Liz’s direction. “Isabel Evans.”

“Liz Parker.” She replied as she shook the woman’s manicured hand. Her skin was like silk.

“I’m Kyle’s fiancé.” Isabel told her warmly. “And you must be Jim’s great and wonderful boxer.”

Liz laughed as Isabel reached across Kyle to poke her soon to be father-in-law in the stomach. “Well, I don’t know about great and wonderful, but I am training with him.”

Not long after Isabel had introduced herself, Jim had scampered off to greet more people, and Liz found herself alone with Kyle and his tall, beautiful girlfriend, and the more the three of them talked, the more and more she liked them both. Physically, they seemed like such a mismatched couple. Isabel was a tall amazonian-like beauty. She practically dwarfed her fiancé in size. Liz could see her on the cover of Vogue and married to a wealthy business man or basketball player rather than a kindergarten teacher married to a short but muscular twenty-two-year-old police officer.

“So, how did you two meet?” Liz asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“Actually we met in the gym where you train with Jim.” Isabel told her. “I was a gym rat, I would go and sit there for hours, watching my little brother train with Jim, and one day Kyle and I bumped into each other.”

“Bumped into each other?” Kyle asked, the mirth in his voice clearly evident. “Darling, you did more than bump into me that day.”

He turned to Liz as Isabel rolled her eyes at him. “Isabel here wanted to be a boxer, and she was pissed off that they wouldn’t let her. Four years ago, they wouldn’t allow it. They would have burned the building down rather than let a girl into the ring.” Liz nodded as he spoke, listening intently to his story. “Well, one day when were 18, Isabel was taking her little brother up to see my dad for his training session when an asshole in the stairwell started giving her shit for wanting to box, saying girls couldn’t be boxers and to go play with her barbies. Rambo over here, turns around and hits the first person in her line of vision. Which happened to be me.”

“What happened then?” Liz asked, still getting over the shock of Isabel, who looked more like a model or a cheerleader, wanting to be a boxer.

“When I regained consciousness, I fell in love.” Kyle impishly told her as he grinned at Isabel and pulled her closer into his side.

“Speaking of my brother.” Isabel changed the subject smoothly as Max approached the three of them. She hated that story just as much as she loved it. “Hey Max.”

Liz stopped breathing completely for a moment. She hadn’t caught Max’s last name, but even if she had, she probably wouldn’t have connected the dots. The Isabel before her was Max’s sister? “You know Liz right? You both train at the gym.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Max told her as he stepped up next to Liz. “I know Liz.”

Was she imagining that look he was giving her and that tone in his voice? It seemed . . . husky. “Um, hey Max.”

“Hey.”

Just then, the woman who Liz had assumed to be Mrs. Valenti sidled up next to Isabel, lightly grasping her forearm. “May I steal Isabel away for a minute?” She asked politely, smiling at everyone.

“Sure mom.” Isabel said as she rolled her eyes and kissed Kyle on the cheek. She flashed an apologetic smile at Liz. “It was really nice meeting you Liz, but duty calls.”

“See ya later Isabel.” Liz said smiling brightly at her. Isabel had seemed like a really nice person. Turning back to Kyle, Liz smiled. “It’s cute that she calls your mom, mom.”

He was confused for a moment before he understood. “Diane? She isn’t my mom. Well, not yet anyway.”

Liz’s brow furrowed for a moment before Kyle’s words, or the meaning of them anyway, sunk into her head. The woman she had been thinking was Mrs. Valenti was in fact not. That was Isabel’s mother, making her Max’s mother too. Liz cast a sideways glace at the man next to her, remembering what Diane had said when she opened the door. Had she heard so much about Liz from Jim or from her son?

“Well, where is your mom Kyle? I’d love to meet her.” Liz asked looking around curiously for a woman who looked like Kyle. Deciding to banish the question of whom Diane had heard about her from, from her mind.

He gave her an odd look, as if he were surprised about something before soberly answering. “My mom died when I was very young.”

[sugarplum17]

<center>Part 7b
The Long Awaited Part</center>

Liz wanted to crawl underneath a rock and hide out for the rest of the party. Her conversation with Kyle had been strained after she’d asked where his mother was and not long after that fateful question, he’d gone off to greet more guests and to help his mother-in-law-to-be carry a bag of ice. At this point, Liz was certain that if she did hide out underneath a rock, someone would trip over it and expose her. She had to settle for the front porch instead.

For a little while, she was hidden from the rest of the party. She sat on the porch swing with her eyes closed as she enjoyed the nice spring breeze on her skin. She was trying not to think of what she had said to Kyle and how he must have felt. She didn’t want to dredge up painful memories on what was supposed to be his happy day.

The swing’s sudden halt made her open her eyes. Curiously, she looked at Max, who had stopped the swing by its chain. He was lowering himself in the seat beside her.

“Cool party, huh?” He asked staring straight ahead. He appeared to be checking out the neighborhood that surrounded them. Idly watching as cars passed by.

She cleared her throat. “Yeah. It’s alright.” She turned her head and pretended to watch the neighborhood as well, but she was really watching him. Every movement he made was seen out of the corner of her eye.

“So why are you out here?” He asked her. She stiffened as he raised his arm and rested it along the back of the swing.

Trying to regain her composure, she shrugged. “I just, you know, I don’t know anyone. Except for Jim.”

“You know me.” She turned her head at his statement and was surprised to find him staring at her. Under his intense golden gaze, she found herself . . . relaxed. In a strange sort of way.

She leaned back into the swing and smiled a strange half smile. “That’s a matter of opinion, now isn’t it?” She didn’t even care that her bare shoulder was brushing against the rough tips of his fingers.

“How so?” His eyes were sparkling with intrigue.

“Well,” she gingerly began to rock them back and forth again with her feet, “you can say that I know you and I can counter that with I know almost nothing about you.”

His husky laughter sent shivers down her spine and she was acutely aware of the fact that his fingers were grazing against her hair.

“That’s not true.” He argued in a mirthful tone.

“Okay, then,” Her narrowed eyes and the smirk on her face indicated a forthcoming challenge. “What do I know about you? Let’s see, I know you box, I know you run, I know you have a beautiful sister, and a mom that seems really cool. I know you trained with Jim but wanted to go pro and thought he wasn’t going to get you there. Other than that, I know zip.”

She wanted to say what else she knew. Like, he had a thing for blondes. Or, she knew he was sexy as hell when he was in the ring. But she wisely chose to refrain from bringing those topics into discussion.

“I see you’ve thought about this.” Max joked. He laughed when her cheeks flooded with pink and she looked away from him.

“Nah.” She scolded herself. What a frickin’ fool. “There’s just . . . stuff I don’t know about you, so I’m not gonna say I know you.”

His breath on her ear caused her to close her eyes and clench her muscles. “Whaddya wanna know, Liz?”

Everything. She wanted to know everything. But most of all, she wanted to know what his lips would feel like against hers.

“I want to know,” a foreign voice broke through Liz’s fog of lust that was beginning to seep through her head. “What the hell is going on here?”

Her brown eyes flew open and she raised her head only to stare into the chilly blue eyes of Max’s blonde bimbo herself.

“Tess,” He said, backing away from Liz and removing his arm. She missed his fingers in her hair and on her skin instantly. “What are you doing here?”

“Your sister invited me, remember?” She asked, crossing her arms over her breasts. “And I see that I arrived right in the nick of time, Max.”

Tess. So that’s Barbie’s name. Liz thought to herself as the blonde stared them both down.

“Nothing’s going on, Tess.” He said as he rolled his eyes. “We were just talking.”

“Walk me around back, darling.” Tess said, emphasizing the word darling. “It would be impolite of us to leave without saying hello and goodbye to your sister.”

Without a word to Liz, Max stood from the porch swing and headed toward the backyard, completely unaware that his blonde girlfriend and brunette fighter were locked in a staring contest with one another.

[sugarplum17]

<center>Part 8</center>

When Liz Parker walked into the gym, her heart skipped a beat. She frowned and mentally chided herself for it. She looked away from the ring where Max was sparring and tried to remind herself that nothing was going to come of that situation, no matter how many beats her heart wanted to skip.

Shaking her head, she sought out her trainer as she conjured up a mental image of Max’s perfect girlfriend, Tess. The name was like a bad taste in her mouth. Just the thought of her irritated Liz.

“Hey Jim.”

“Hey! There’s my girl.” Jim said as his left hand was struck by the gloved-fist of a 10-year-old boy. “You ready to sweat for me?”

She smiled, “Yeah, I guess I can sweat a few buckets.”

“Good.” He yelled. She wasn’t quite sure if he was speaking to her, or the boy he was sparring with. “Go get changed then.”

Nodding her head, she turned and started toward the janitorial closet that she used for a changing room. As she passed by the center ring, she cast a glance inside of it and was surprised to find herself staring straight into two honey-colored eyes. Her step faltered momentarily.

“Get your head in the fuckin’ match, Maxwell!” Michael called from the sidelines. Unaware that his best friend was engaged in an entirely different match of his own. “Block! Block!”

Liz cringed as Michael shouted a loud curse and Max caught a gloved-fist in the face and went down. She watched anxiously as he pushed himself off the floor of the ring.

When he was on his feet and hopping around again, Liz entered the closet. Regardless of what had happened before, his head was in the match now.

***

“What the hell was that?!” Michael yelled from the side of the ring. He was practically hanging inside it.

Max shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t know what that was any better than Michael did. He never lost focus in the ring and no girl had ever managed to break his concentration. Tess included.

It was always nice to have a pretty girl standing beside the ring to kiss you when you won, but not once had that pretty girl sucked him into her large brown eyes the way that Liz had. It made him frown.

“Get your head out of Parker’s pussy and back in between these fucking ropes, man!” Michael shouted malevolently.

Now Max wanted to punch him in the face instead of his sparring partner. He would have too, had his sparring partner not danced his way in between the two friends. Instead, he took his frustration out on the boy inside the ring with him.

His head was no where near Liz Parker’s . . . feminine areas. Although, that wouldn’t be an entirely bad spot for his head to be in.

He shook his head and through his mouth guard, he shouted at Michael, “It’s just a sparring match, Michael. Don’t take it so seriously.”

“What?!” Michael was shrieking now, his hands thrown up in the air. “Don’t take it so seriously, he says.”

He could see Michael pacing beside the ring as he bobbed and weaved inside it. It made him feel bad, sort of. He couldn’t exactly blame Michael for getting worked up about it. Michael Guerin was his biggest fan, and his best friend. He knew just as well as Max did that going pro was his dream.

“If this prick can bring you down, you ain’t never gonna make it pro!” Michael yelled, thrusting his hand out toward Max’s sparring partner.

“Fuck you, Guerin!” Mickey yelled through his mouth guard.

“Nah, I think I’ll pass Mick,” Michael said offhandedly, “but if you wanna know what it’s like, go ask your mom.”

Despite himself, Max laughed.

“Alright, alright.” Max’s trainer broke in, “Let’s cut this shit out, boys. Box!”

Max ignored the door of the janitor’s closet as it opened and purposely turned his back to it. He didn’t want to risk getting lost in a pair of eyes again. He didn’t even want to know she was in the gym.




After taking a quick shower, Max shoved his gloves in his duffle bag and headed for the door. He found Liz and Jim standing outside, talking. For some reason, the way that she looked at her trainer irritated him. He couldn’t exactly put his finger on way, or even what that look meant to her.

“Hey, Max.” Jim held up his hand in the form of a wave, and Max nodded back at him before Jim turned his attention back to Liz, “So, how you gettin’ home?”

“The bus.” Her words stopped Max in his tracks.

“You want a ride?” He called over his shoulder as he tossed his duffle bag into the back of his jeep.

“Uh, sure . . . ” She answered hesitantly. Turning to wave goodbye to Jim, she walked over to the jeep and tossed her duffle bag on top of his.

[sugarplum17]

My computer is all fixed! Yay!

<center>Part Nine</center>

Sitting in the passenger seat of Max’s jeep, Liz Parker felt awkward and on edge. She folded her hands in her lap as she looked out the window, unsure of what to say to him. She was feeling extremely shy at that moment. It almost made her want to laugh. It was comical, to say the least, how she could feel completely comfortable and completely at ease with him one day on Jim Valenti’s porch swing and so completely uncomfortable and uneasy the next. The strange part was, she couldn’t pinpoint any reason as to why. She trusted him. Instinctively, as weird as that was to think. Perhaps that was why he made her so uncomfortable apart from all the obvious factors?

She cast a shy sideways glance at him. His profile sent shivers down her spine. He is so...handsome.

She cleared her throat to get his attention, “So, um, I hope I didn’t get you into any trouble with Bess.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, she couldn’t help but wonder if that was the start of a smile. “Tess.” He corrected gently.

“Oh, right.” She rolled her eyes as she looked away from him. “Tess.”

“And no, you didn’t get me into any trouble with her.” He answered nonchalantly.

“Are you sure?” She asked, turning her head to look at him. She was mildly interested in this topic now. Now that she was sure he was lying. “She looked pretty...upset.”

“Yeah, well, it was nothing that I couldn’t handle.” He cast her a sideways glance that left her breathless. His smile was devastating.

She forced herself to look at his nose. His smile was devastating and his eyes were damning. She would be done for if she looked into or at either one of them. “I thought you weren’t in trouble?”

“I didn’t say that.” He corrected her as he turned his attention back to the road. “I said you didn’t get me into trouble. I’m always in trouble with Tess.”

“Then why stay with her?” The question flew from her mouth before she had a chance to stop herself.

After a few pensive moments, he answered, “Don’t know.” He thought about it some more before he attempted to explain. “Tess is just...we have a tumultuous relationship. We’re always fighting and...making up.”

Her smile faded momentarily. She understood now. Forcing the smile back in place, she sighed. “Oh, I see.”

“I guess that’s half the fun.” He said in an offhanded way.

Liz wanted to be sick. “Making up?”

“Yeah.” He scratched his chin, looking perplexed about something. “Making up.”

“Doesn’t sound like much fun.” Again, she just couldn’t stop her mouth from saying the words. It flowed out of her as if she were possessed.

He stayed silent, staring at the road ahead of them. If he didn’t say something soon, she felt as if she were going to explode.

“Where am I going?” He asked, casting her another sideways glance. Whatever he’d been thinking about, it was gone now. She could see that much in his eyes.

“Oh,” She replied, startled. She hadn’t given him a single direction, but she found herself passing by her school and the track where they’d first spoken to each other. More than one sentence, anyway. “Um, go up two blocks and turn left.”

Pulling up in front of the apartment complex, Max killed the engine and rested his hands on his thighs as he looked at Liz. “Can I walk you up?”

“No.”

He looked taken aback by her boldness, but nodded his head. “Okay...”

“It’s late...” She said, as if that would explain anything.

“Okay.” There was something in his voice that Liz couldn’t decipher. Was it disappointment? Relief? Or just concern for her well-being? He probably didn’t want her to get raped in her own stairwell.

“Um, I live right up there.” She pointed to her bedroom window. “I can wave to you. You know, if you want.”

He smiled at her. “Okay. I’ll see you at the gym, Liz.”

“Yeah.” She returned his warm gesture and smiled back. “See ya at the gym, Max.”

She climbed out of his old jeep and grabbed her duffle bag from the back seat, waved one last time and disappeared into the building. She took the stairs two at a time and hesitated at the door. She hoped that her dad was passed out by now in front of the tv, but if he wasn’t she decided to say that she’d been studying with Maria. That always worked.

Twisting the nob, she walked in to find her father in his lazy boy, beer can in hand, and sawing logs. As quietly as she could, she tiptoed to her room and flicked the light on. Dropping her duffle bag by the dresser, she made her way to the window and felt just like Juliette as she peeled the curtain to the side and waved down to her Romeo.

Well, unbeknownst to him anyway.