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Title: What's So Great About Normal?
Author: Allie1031
Category:AU, Aliens, M/L
Rating: MATURE
Disclamer: I don’t own anything. Roswell belongs to UPN and the WB.
Prologue
I'd like to begin by saying that I have never led a normal life. Never. I've always been the oddball out, the exception to the rule, the one that somehow slips through the cracks. Normal, ha! I laugh in the face of normal. Normal schmormal. What's so great about normal, anyways? It probably has its advantages, I imagine, though, if it does, I've never seen a single one of them.
To begin with, I was born late. Not just a couple days or a few weeks, but a whole stinking month. And I think that's what began my mom's whole "more trouble than you are worth" brigade. Thanks Mom. Feeling the love. I don't think a day went by that she didn't utter those six words to me. Did wonders for my self-esteem. You can imagine…
Anyways, I'd like to say that was the first and last time in my entire life I was late. Key words there being I'd like to. Hell, I'm never on time. My dad thinks he's funny and always says that I'm going to be late to my own funeral. Key words there being thinks he's funny. Hilarious Dad. Freakin' hilarious. So I'm occasionally what I like to call fashionably late. Big stinking deal. The party never really starts until I arrive anyways.
So how many people do you know that are born a month late? I thought so. Not too many. Lucky me. I earn the scorn of my mother and her endless taunts about my supposedly disproportionately oversized head as a reward (she was in labor for 23 hours). I think it's safe to say that my mother is one of those women that really just shouldn't have children. Of course, let me assure you that she has told me many times that she never intended to.
How my dad managed to stay married to my mother for the three years that he did is a phenomenon to me. He's really too nice of a guy if you ask me. In fact I bet he would have stayed with her until his death, if she hadn't had an affair and run off and married someone else. Very typical of my mother. Never satisfied with the good things she has going right in front of her.
This is the part that really gets me though. My mother didn't want me, but she certainly didn't want my father to have me. She's just malicious and sadistic like that I guess. She fought pretty hard for custody of me in their divorce. When I say she fought, I mean she overpaid some cutthroat lawyer to. And I'll be damned if I didn't get the only judge in the courthouse on crack that day. Dumbass. Anyone could see that my mother was unfit to raise a child.
So I lived with my mom and my asshole step-father. I can honestly say that they deserved each other. He hated me more than my mother, though. He always told me how ugly and horrible I was. And he was an intense alcoholic. Enough said. The bastard never ever hit me, but there were so many times when I wished that he would so I could have a reason to go to the police and beg to be placed with my dad, hell, even in foster care.
Except the problem with that was that I could never have left behind all my stuff. What can I say? I'm greedy. And materialistic. Crazy Jim, a.k.a. my step-father, made more in one year, doing hell if I know what, than most people make in a life time. I had mountains of stuff, and stuff for my stuff for my stuff. I was a stuffaholic. Lucky for me nobody really gave a flying fuck about me, so I got away with anything I wanted most of the time I lived with them. Hmmmm, yeah, real lucky.
My dad, on the other hand, moved to Roswell, New Mexico, and became a guidance counselor. Let me tell you how cool it is to have a parent that is a guidance counselor. He's a cornball, and a dork, and cheesy as hell, but you know something? He does a damn good job at guidance counseling if you ask me. I mean he's not all that bad; he's got some good material that just cracks you up. When I was a kid he was really funny, and I still think he's fun. I just don't know how much fun he will still be when I am actually living with him.
Yep, you heard me correctly. I'm going to be living with him. From now on. Permanently. Residing in Roswell, New Mexico.
This is where I usually insert my fake smile and pipe up in my most disgustingly cheerful voice, "Oh sure, of course I'm excited to be moving in with Daddy. I missed him all the time because I never got to see enough of him before. I think it's just fabulous that I will be able to spend so much more time with my father. I know he'll be able to take good care of me after a tragedy like this. I'm really lucky to still have him."
I'd like to thank the Hollywood Foreign Press for this wonderful award (Golden Globe quality, not sure if I could snag an Emmy, though); I couldn't have done it without all those years of practice B.S.ing my way through life. That, and the influence of my mother. Thank you. Thank you all. Okay, no really, that speech is worth a million bucks. It sells like a hot commodity.
So why am I moving to Roswell, you are wondering, after I said I could never leave my stuff? Well, the old man finally did her in. Crazy Jim drank a little too much for the last time and put his $75,000 car into the side of a semi when he and Mother were on their way back from one of their parties. Man did that really put a crimp in my weekend plans.
The funeral was really extravagant. Not at all to my surprise, Mother had already planned and paid for it down to the minutest detail. Morbid, I know. I don't think she ever expected to go so soon, she just didn't trust my incompetence to handle things as important as which lipstick her corpse was to be wearing.
Everyone kept saying how sorry they were for my loss. Sorry that the heartless bitch was no longer around to make my life hell. I have to admit I was sorry, too, after I found out how much Crazy Jim was really in debt. But at the funeral, I can honestly say I felt nothing. I wasn't glad, but I certainly wasn't sad either. I was just empty.
The money in my trust, the money for college, hell, any money, was all taken. None of it was technically mine yet because I wasn't 18 anyways. They never really mentioned me in the will at all. It wasn't much of a will at all, really. Mainly just funeral preparations and a bunch of legal mumbo jumbo that I didn‘t understand. All I needed to understand was that I didn't get any money. I don't think they wanted to leave the money to me, but they didn't have any other heirs so I was pretty much the only option. Given that, they just kind left the whole thing open. I figure that's how I lost the money.
I didn't really want the money anyways, not really. It would always remind me of them and my life before. One thing was for sure. This whole dilemma meant a new life for me. Even if I had to leave behind everything I'd ever known and move across the country. I could reinvent myself any way I so chose. For the first time in my entire life I felt free.
Last edited by Allie1031 on Tue May 18, 2004 6:55 pm, edited 2 times in total.
I open my eyes to catch my first glimpse of Roswell at dawn. I have been riding on this damn Greyhound bus for the past 22 hours from my home in Iowa. Dad and I thought riding the bus would be an easy way to save money. Ha! Next time I'll just go all out on plane tickets.
Let me tell you that Hollywood totally plays up the glamour of riding on a bus. You always see the main character looking out the window taking in a beautiful landscape with a pensive gaze.
Well, I guess the landfill on my left does look pretty damn stunning in the early morning light.
What they fail to show you is the greasy glass windows plastered with hand prints, the dead flies perched on the windowsill, the stained by God knows what seats, the sticky, littered floor, the screaming whining children running up and down the aisle all night, and the funky smell that you can't quite put your finger on. For a long time I just thought the bus driver had some really bad B.O., but I'm not entirely sure one person can make that much stench.
Thank heavens, I can only sigh as we pull into the Roswell depot. I stand up to stretch and grab my bag from the overhead. Finally. I never thought I'd be so glad to be somewhere in my entire life.
"Have a good day little lady," the driver tips his cap at me as I exit the bus. I make a quick glance at his partner snoring loudly on my right, drool rolling down his chin and forming a puddle on his uniform.
"Hey, yeah, uhhh, you too... Ed," I reply glancing at his name tag.
Eh, at least he's a nice guy. It must suck to drive a stinky bus for a living with Dribbles. Note to self: go to college.
I scan my surroundings until I spot my dad. It isn't too hard. Apparently the Roswell bus depot is not a very happening place to be at 6 a.m.
"Lizzie!" my dad proclaims standing up from the bench he had been resting on.
He looks older than I remember with a few stray gray hairs along with the brown up top. His eyes still twinkle like the used to, and the laughter lines around them have grown deeper.
"Hey Dad," I say walking over to him.
"How was your trip?" he asks as he envelops me in a hug.
He's put on a little weight too I notice.
"Something special," I answer.
Dad chuckles.
"These it?" he questions gesturing to the bags Ed pulled out from under the bus.
"Yep," I nod.
Most of my stuff was already shipped ahead of me and what was left was sent to arrive in the next couple days.
"Alright. Let's go then. Do you want to get some breakfast before I drop you off at home? It's Wednesday, a school day, so I have to work today, but Nancy will be home. She took the day off to help you get settled," Dad says.
"Sure," I reply.
Nancy is my step-mom. Nice lady, really. Dad married her five years ago or so. I came to Roswell for the wedding. Back then they were living in a dinky apartment on the crappy side of town. Something about saving money? Things have since changed I guess. They sent me pictures of their new home when they moved in. My dad and I never saw each other very often, occasionally on holidays. Usually we'd meet half way at my grandma's in Oklahoma and have our visits there. Dad always called me once a week on Sunday nights though to see how I was. I loved it as a kid, but the older I got the more of a hassle the calls seemed.
I don't know Nancy very well yet, but what I do know of her I like. Most of all, I like how happy she makes my dad. They dated and lived together for a long time before they actually married so I had a long time to adjust to the idea. Dad wanted to make certain that I was okay with it before he got married again, quite unlike Mother I might add.
Dad leads me to his car and we drive for about 5 minutes before we stop in front of a place called the Crashdown. I glance across the street to see some place called the UFO Center. Wow. Talk about alien obsession in this town.
"Nancy owns this place," Dad states proudly, opening the door for me. "We bought it last year. She really loves it, but as I said she's not working today so she can help you get acquainted with Roswell. We thought you would probably want to get some sleep first, but she's going to bring you to the school later so you can register. I was hoping maybe you would want to start school tomorrow. You know, get into the routine of things as soon as possible."
"Oh sure, Dad. You know how much I love school. Can't wait," I sigh.
I know, he's trying. I shouldn't be cranky, but I don't particularly like school.
"Lizzie," he says my name in that voice that means he's disappointed.
We sit down in a booth in the back.
"I don't care, Dad. I suppose I have to go to school sometime. Why not tomorrow? It's as good of day as any," I shrug.
"Lizzie, I know your mother was never very supportive of you and you've had some hard times in the past. But things are different now. You are a really smart girl. You're only 17. There is still time to get into a good college if you work hard. I don't want to see you throw away your life like so many of the kids I see every day. You have so much potential." Dad tells me.
"I know," I respond, wishing I had just said great in a very non-sarcastic tone to going back to school.
"I don't think you do," replies Dad.
"Whatever," I say looking away.
I notice a very good-looking, dark-haired guy about my age walk in. He looks over at me and our eyes meet. For a moment we just stare at each other, and something clicks in a really weird way. I have this feeling kinda like déjà vu only weirder . He smiles softly at me, and I melt right into a huge puddle on the floor.
I quickly look down and blush. What am I, 13? I am Liz Parker and I never blush. I try to concentrate on what Dad is saying about the house, but I can't keep myself from glancing back up at gorgeous guy on the other side of the restaurant. The worst part is he is looking right back at me.
Luckily a waitress comes over to take our order. She's pretty and looks about my age, with long golden hair and green eyes.
"Good morning. What can I get for ya this morning, Mr. P.?" She smiles.
"Good morning Maria," my dad replies. "I'll take the usual."
Maria scribbles something down and turns to me. She looks unusually perky for 6:30 in the morning.
"I'll have, ummm......Dad? I hope you didn't come up with these names." I say scanning the menu and reading items like Blast Off Burger and Intergalactic Omelet.
"I thought they were pretty clever," Dad chuckles.
"Oh, believe me, they are," I tell him. "Can I just get some scrambled eggs, toast, and some O.J. please?"
"Sure thing," responds Maria.
She bounds happily off to the kitchen to place our order. She must drink a lot of coffee. Though, I know full well that no amount of coffee in the world would make me that chipper. Prozac, then, perhaps.
I glance over at my mystery man to see that he has taken some books out of his bag and is proceeding to do what looks like homework.
Shock. Gasp. Well that's it! The love affair is over before it even started. No girl likes a guy who likes to do homework THAT much. Tsssk, Tsssk. Too bad. This guy is hot. Really hot. I force myself not to stare too much. Maybe I could make an allowance for this behavior, as long as he promised not to do it again.
Get a grip Parker! You're smitten and you don't even know his name!
I chalk up my instant obsession to the long, sleepless bus ride and turn my attention back to my dad, but not before making eye contact, again, and blushing furiously, again. Luckily Dad hasn't notice my lapse in focus and is still merrily chatting along.
Before long Maria comes back with our food.
"I'm sorry I spaced it off earlier Maria. I'd like you meet my daughter, Elizabeth," Dad introduces me.
"Nice to meet you, Elizabeth, I'm Maria. Your dad has told me all about you," she smiles.
"Please, call me Liz," I respond, smiling back.
She seems nice enough, a little too perky, but nice. No need to make enemies in Roswell right away.
"Thanks for coming in and opening up for Nancy this morning until the more of the day staff can get here Maria. Vivian can't drop her kids off at daycare until 7. I know Nancy really appreciates you helping us out. You're a life saver," Dad tells her.
"Hey, it's no prob. I love getting up early and putting in a good couple hours of work before school." She and Dad laugh.
What, she gets to be sarcastic and I don't?
"Really though," Maria goes on. "I don't mind Mr. P. I like working here a lot."
Can you say suck up? I bet you can…
"I'm glad to hear you say that, Maria. Lizzie will probably be getting a job here herself. She has the luck of having good connections with the boss," Dad grins.
Me? Work? Ha! I've never worked a day in my life.
"Lizzie's going to be starting school at West Roswell tomorrow," Dad continues. "She could use someone to show her around."
Great, now my dad is making my friends for me. At least I was fortunate enough not to go to school with him though. He is the guidance counselor at East Roswell High, and thank goodness, we live in the West Roswell High district. I suppose I'd rather have Maria shuffle me around than my dad. At least, I know I will feel a heck of a lot cooler.
"I'd love to Mr. P. You want me to pick you up for school tomorrow, Liz?" asks Maria.
"Sure that'd be great," I say flashing my pearly whites in a bogus smile.
Damn, my cheeks are going to hurt if I have to keep this up.
"Okay, school starts at 8 so I'll drop by around 7:30," Maria tells me.
Maria leaves to take a bill over to my mystery man for his coffee. He gathers his stuff and puts some money down. He glances back at me one last time, smiles, and then walks out. After my distraction has left I am forced to divert my attention back to my dad.
"I put in a call to Patricia Johnson, she's the guidance counselor over at West Roswell," Dad starts.
I raise an eyebrow. This doesn't sound like it can go anywhere too promising.
"She is just thrilled to be meeting you," Dad goes on.
Boy, is she in for a surprise.
"We got your schedule mostly worked out based on what you told me you wanted to take. It was a real stretch getting you into A.P. Biology this late in the school year but I pulled a couple strings." Dad informs me.
"Great," I smile.
Holy shit, I hope my cheeks don't get stuck like this.
The rest of breakfast pretty much goes like that. Dad saying something, me flashing a fake smile along with a one word response. After breakfast Dad takes me home, and he and Nancy usher me around their new house for a while. Eventually Dad looks at his watch and realizes he has to get going to school. When he leaves, I excuse myself from Nancy's company and go up to my new room.
It's about the size of my bathroom at my old house, but it's not too bad, really. It's actually kind of cozy. But something will have to be done about the pink floral bedspread and curtains. The best part is the great bay window. It opens up onto the roof next to which there is a perfect climbing tree. Should come in very handy for sneaking out.
I sigh and flop back onto the bed. Shortly after my head hits the pillow I'm fast asleep.
I wake up again close to noon. Something smells great, so I wander down stairs to check it out.
Nancy is in the kitchen humming to her self. She's made tuna salad sandwiches and cream of broccoli soup for lunch and it smells delicious. No wonder the woman owns a restaurant.
"Hello sleepyhead," she says when she realizes I've joined her.
"Smells great Nance," I say.
Nancy is a lot prettier than I remember her being at the wedding. Of course she looked pretty in her wedding dress, but now I can tell that she has a natural beauty about her, a kind of glow. Her shoulder-length, curly auburn hair, baby blue eyes, and pale, freckled complexion are far from my own long dark hair, chocolate brown eyes, and olive skin. I look like my mother, I realize, only not as pretty. Certainly not beautiful like Nancy.
"Thanks," Nancy responds. "I was hoping after lunch you could get ready and we could go get you registered and then go shopping or something."
Shopping. I am really, really starting to like Nancy.
"Sure thing, Nance," I say as she places my lunch in front of me and sits down across from.
The food is delicious just as I suspected. It's no wonder dad has gained a few extra pounds. She chats a little as we eat about the Crashdown and the new house, telling me about what she has fixed up. She's a regular Martha Stewart. She tells me that I can fix my room any way I'd like, paint the walls and all. That's what I like to hear. When we are done eating, I help her clear the table and head up stairs to take a shower.
It doesn't take me long to get ready. I throw on an old, worn, green T-shirt from my little league softball days and my favorite deep purple corduroy pants. I've never cared a heck of a lot about matching. It's extremely overrated. I pull my hair up into a lose bun and slip on my pink flip flops. I don't even bother with make up. Who am I going to impress with Nancy next to me anyways? I'm very plain. A lot of boys tell me I'm cute and some even go so far as to say pretty or beautiful, but I credit that to them trying to get in my pants.
Nancy and I hop in the car and head to the high school, which ends up being only ten blocks or so away. It's a fairly new building and I check out the track as we walk by. Nice. I'll have to come back up here and run. I like to run. I don't have a whole heck of a lot of patience for team sports so it's one of the few athletics I can enjoy. I'd never run for a team. That would ruin the entire activity for me.
We walk in the front door and follow the signs to the office, which Nancy swears led us in a complete circle before taking us to our destination. I'm too busy snooping around to care too much. One of the halls has this really great student art motif thing going along the walls, and I can't help but stare as we walk by. Nancy called ahead so the ladies in the office knew we were coming and have everything ready ahead of time. Smart thinking Nancy. Way to be on top of things.
Next we go to the guidance office, and I meet this Patricia Johnson. The first thing I notice is she's wearing little smiley face earrings and a T-shirt that says I heart me. I wonder where they sell those because I have a friend that would really dig one. She has a lot of those goofy posters that supposedly raise your self-esteem and say things like "I going to be the best me that I can be." She's a fruit. I swear a really live walking, talking banana. But she gives me my schedule which has all the classes I want so I'm happy.
Ms. Johnson gives us a VERY LONG tour of the school, pointing out every crack in the floor, and shows us where my locker is. She makes me practice opening it with the combination three times before Nancy tells her that she thinks I've got it down, and that we have to get going.
"So soon?" questions Ms. Johnson. "Elizabeth hasn't even met her bridge-builder yet."
I look at my watch. We've been at the school for almost two and a half hours.
"My what?" I wonder at the risk of her answering.
"Bridge-builder," repeats Ms. Johnson. "They're student guides that help new students get the hang of things here at West Roswell, home of the Comets."
I swear to God, this woman is on crack. She has told me at least ten times since I've meet her that I've entered the home of the comets, I'm a comet now, go comets, etc. Fuck the comets.
"Oh well, actually," Nancy informs her, "we already have found someone to show Liz around her first couple days."
"Really, who?" wonders Ms. Johnson.
"Maria DeLuca. She works for me," replies Nancy.
"Maria DeLuca! But she's not a bridge-builder!" says Ms. Johnson like it's the most scandalous thing she has ever heard. "I have Isabel Evans, the best bridge-builder we've got, all lined up, but if that's what you'd prefer..."
"We would prefer," Nancy states.
Go Nancy, go Nancy...
"Elizabeth, are you sure you are okay with this?" Ms. Johnson worriedly asks me, still astonished at Nancy.
"One-hundred and ten percent." I reply.
Mrs. Johnson is the kind of person to actually believe it is physically possible to be more than one hundred percent sure of something. I mean, once you are sure, you're sure. How can you be more sure that completely sure? There's a reason this women isn't married. I can't even begin to imagine who she has picked out to lead me around. People like her give guidance counselors like my dad a bad name.
"Now if you'll excuse us, Ms. Johnson," Nancy pipes in before Ms. Johnson can say anything else, "we have some more errands to run but thank you for the wonderful tour. I'm sure it will put Liz's mind at ease tomorrow now that she knows where each every janitor's closet is."
"Not to mention that fabulous eraser room," I chime in.
"Your help has been indispensable, but I'm afraid we really must be going," Nancy finishes. She turns around and walks off quickly before Ms. Johnson can get in another word and I follow close behind.
"See you tomorrow Liz," Ms. Johnson cries after me, waving ridiculously. "Let me know if you need anything!"
I look back and give her my fake smile complete with pearly whites, along with a nod and a thumbs up just for good measure. She waves some more, smiles, and scurries off around the corner in the direction of her office.
I turn around just in time to see that I'm about to run into something, or rather someone. I hit hard, and a bright white light blinds my vision with strange images. Strong arms reach out and steady me before I can fall on my butt.
"Careful," a warm voice tickles my ear.
I look up into very amused auburn eyes. I recognize the face instantly. It's my mystery man from this morning. He smiles down at me.
"S-s-sorry," I stutter.
I mentally kick myself. Liz you klutz! He's going to think you are a total dork!
"It's okay, I know how Ms. Johnson is. Your mom was way funny," he smirks, his gorgeous eyes still gazing into mine.
"Uhhh...Mom? Oh yeah, Nancy, she's a wild one like that. Ummm...I have to...uhhh...go," I murmur as I stumble away, practically tripping all over myself.
I practically run down the hall to Nancy who is waiting at the door watching me.
Super, Liz. Way to go out there and make a good first impression. Good heavens, he was watching the whole time? He must think I'm a complete nerd.
I turn back to see him watching me walk away. He smiles and gives a little wave when he sees I'm looking back. I snap my head forward again and blush. Enough with the blushing already. Cripes.
"Make a new friend?" asks Nancy when I catch up.
"Shut up," I reply hotly.
"Hey, just asking," smiles Nancy.
"You looked like you made good friends with Ms. Johnson," I say as we climb in the car.
"Oh yeah," says Nancy, rolling her eyes. "I'm going to invite her to my next Tupperware party."
Maria stops by at 7:30 on the dot. Very Punctual. Of course, I'm not ready. I let her in and she sits down on the couch and watches T.V. for a while. Ten minutes later I'm ready to roll.
"Sorry I'm slow," I tell her. "I hope I don't make us late."
"It's okay," she says. "Your dad has told me dozens of stories about how you are always late. I figured today wouldn't be an exception, and I told you I'd come by ten minutes earlier than I really needed to."
Smart. Damn near genius. I'm starting to like Maria. I need people like her around to cover my ass for me.
"I like your shirt," she compliments me as we pile into her car.
I do too. It's one of my favorite. It's white mesh-like material with multi-colored daisies all over it. I bought it on a trip to Italy. I wear a spaghetti strap tank top under it because it's quite see-through.
"Thanks," I smile genuinely.
"You're really very pretty. Someone is going to be jealous," Maria tells me.
"Someone?" I question.
"Oh, I'm sure you'll see. She doesn't like to have the limelight taken off her even for an instant. You should watch out," Maria continues.
I would if I knew what the hell you were talking about!
"Huh?" I wonder.
"I think I've said too much already," Maria finishes.
"Mmmkay, well if you see that I'm in danger from this ‘someone', I want you to give me a secret signal since I have no idea who ‘she' even is. Rub you nose or something," I say.
"Alright," Maria giggles.
Maria's taking too much Prozac. I'm not pretty. If anything, she's pretty. I proceed to tell her this.
"Yeah, right. The Ice Queen would never even acknowledge me," Maria scoffs with a laugh.
Maria parks her car and we walk into the school together. I have to admit, it's nice. It makes me feel a lot less nervous to have her here. As soon as we walk in the door a tall, lanky, dark-haired guy shows up at Maria's side.
"Hey Maria, who's this?" he asks.
"Liz, I would like you to meet Alex. Liz, Alex. Alex, Liz," Maria says.
"Hi," we both say simultaneously.
Alex isn't bad looking. He's actually kinda cute in a nerdy sort of way. His blue eyes are really sweet and sincere.
"Uh-oh, look out," Alex says, pulling me to the side just in time.
A short, curly, blonde-haired girl in a cheerleading uniform rushes past me.
"Maxie," she squeals as she runs up to some lucky guy and gives him a big hug and, from what I can see, a pretty sloppy kiss.
"I swear she does that every morning at this exact time," frowns Maria disgusted at the P.D.A. going on down the hall.
"At least she gives a warning cry," jokes Alex.
"Very true," laughs Maria.
I keep watching the spectacle, trying to get a look at this guy's face.
"You know," Alex states thoughtfully, "I don't think Max likes her half as much as she likes him. I mean it's obvious that she's head over heels, but sometimes I get the feeling he just tolerates her."
"I know what you mean," Maria agrees. "He always looks kind of bored with her. But they have been together for three years. I mean, that's a long time. Who wouldn't be bored by now with Tess?"
Finally the blonde finishes her good morning kiss and I get a good look at her partner. And all of the sudden I feel sick to my stomach. This Max character is none other than my mystery man from yesterday.
Duh, Liz. What were you thinking? Of course a guy like that is going to have a girlfriend. How very stupid of me.
I feel someone shove me hard from behind.
"Watch where you are going," an annoyed voice behind me barks.
I turn to face a tall, busty blonde towering over me.
Alright, I admit seeing my current dream guy with another girl in his arms didn't exactly make my day. Maybe I feel a little cranky because of that or maybe I just really don't like being pushed around.
"Ummm, excuse me," I say.
She brushes me off without a second glance and starts to walk away.
"YOU ran into ME," I finish with attitude.
Maybe I should come with a warning label. Elizabeth Parker: does not play well with others.
She turns back and looks me up and down before glaring coldly. She narrows her eyes, scrunching up her nose and curling her upper lip.
Attractive. Very becoming. She reminds me of a gremlin. Where is Polaroid when you really need them?
Maria is rubbing at her nose furiously.
"I mean, I was just standing here. I couldn't have run into you," I add sweetly.
By now the other people in the hall have started to take notice of the situation at hand.
"You're new here, right?" She asks.
"Yep," I reply, evenly meeting her gaze.
"Well then I'm willing to overlook something like this just this once. A few words of advice, though, stay out of my way," She says and turns to leave.
"I wasn't in your way. You ran into me." I repeat boldly.
She turns back around slowly and glares at me.
Maria is about to claw her nose off her face.
"A few words of advice for you," I say, "stay out of MY way."
She walks up to me, getting in my face as much as she can, and looks down at me.
"I'll let you in on something you haven't seemed to figure out yet. To everyone here who does matter, you don't, and so long as I'm around you won't," she informs me in a low voice.
I can tell she's really pissed because her nostrils are flaring.
She's threatening my reputation? I couldn't give less of a rip. I'll ruin it myself if she doesn't. Besides, there are so many more things in my life to worry about than how my classmates think of me.
"Well then," I pipe up really loudly, making sure everyone in the crowd that has gathered can hear me. "I'll let you in on something you haven't seemed to figure out yet."
"And what might that be?" she retorts snottily.
Hell, this is too much. She sets herself up.
"Tic-Tac's are your friend," I say grabbing a pack out of my pocket and tossing it to her.
She reflexively reaches out to catch it, and I brush past her as she does.
I know better than to look back. I can feel her eyes burning into the back of my head, and hear the crowd snickering. I would say I definitely just made an enemy, a very important one by the looks of it, and school hasn't actually even started yet. I'm sure I'll have a bitchin' rep by the end of the day. The people who weren't there will be surely hear the story from the ones who were. Public high school's just so trivial like that.
Well super. I'm off to such a good start.
The five minute warning bell rings just as Alex and Maria catch up with me.
"Liz, can I have your autograph?" Alex asks astonished. "You're my hero."
"Are you insane? She could have killed you! What do you think this means?" Maria screeches rubbing her nose like she had been just a few minutes ago.
"Oooohhhh, that's what that means? I thought you just really needed a hanky or something. Thanks for the warning though," I respond nonchalantly.
"Cripes, girl, do you know who that was?" Maria asks.
"Isabel Evans, a.k.a. the Ice Queen," Alex informs me dramatically.
The name slightly rings a bell.
"So what," I say. "She's a bitch, and I'm not about to let her push me around. I don't care who she is."
I realize where I've heard the name before and burst out laughing hysterically. Isabel Evans, a.k.a. the best damn bridge-builder the Comets have ever seen. Maria and Alex look at me like I've gone crazy.
"Listen guys, I have to get to class," I tell them, wiping the tears from my eyes. "I'll catch you later at lunch though, okay?"
I walk off still laughing at the irony of the situation. Man, I love irony.
I hurry to my first hour and never catch Maria's reply. I have A.P. Bio with a Mr. Slater. Cool beans. I walk into the classroom and everyone stops talking. So much for by the end of the day. I take seat in the very back and everyone starts to chat again, but not quite as loudly as before.
I scan the room. Holy smokes! My mystery man is in a seat over by the window. I sigh. This is so typical of my life.
He looks back curiously and smiles at me. I frown and glare back at him. He turns around and faces forward again, looking a bit confused.
The bell rings, and the teacher glides in. He's in his fifties, casually wearing jeans and a polo shirt with tennis shoes. He's pretty skinny, and not very tall, but definitely wearing some fairly large glasses.
"Good morning class," he chirps excitedly.
Most of the kids grumble back something unintelligible that could probably be stretched to good morning.
"We have a new student today," the teacher says enthusiastically.
It's then that I realize that the rest of the day is going to go like this, me being the center of attention, so I might as well just suck it up and get used to it.
"Elizabeth Parker? You go by Liz or Elizabeth? Why don't you come up front and tell us a little bit about yourself?" he says taking a seat on his desk.
"Liz. Ummm...do I have a choice?" I ask.
I'm not very big on standing up directly in front of people. It creeps me out. Sure, I like attention, but on my own turf. Not in formal situations when everyone is just sitting there. Watching me. With their beady little eyes. Judging me.
"Nope," Mr. Slater chuckles.
Fanfuckingtastic. What I only need is to embarrass myself more today. Now, I don't care too much about my reputation, but the little buddy can only take so many beatings in one day. And it's still very early.
I take a deep breath and stagger up to the front of the class. You can do this Liz. Form complete sentences, don't stutter, and by all means DO NOT drool on yourself! The last one shouldn't be a problem as long as I keep my eyes off "Maxie" over by the window.
"What do you want to know?" I ask after I get up there, avoiding all eye contact with anything other than my purple polished toes.
"Relax Liz," Mr. Slater smiles. "This isn't an interrogation. Have a seat and get comfortable. For starters you can tell us where you moved from."
I plop my butt up on the desk next to him where he had been gesturing.
"Well," I begin, "I'm from a very small town in Iowa called Dike."
The class snickers. I'd expected as much. It's a pretty typical reaction to the name of my former hometown. A grungy guy in the very back raises his hand.
"Uh, Yeah?" I point at him.
"Dude, did you just say you were a dyke?" He asks.
The guy sitting next to him smacks him upside the back of his head.
"Are you dense, Charlie?" He scolds. "She just said she was FROM Dike, not A dyke, numb nuts."
"Sorry to disappoint you Charles," I drawl out his name, "but I prefer guys. Not that there is anything at all wrong with homosexuality. Heterosexuality is just my personal preference."
"Listen babe, that's more than fine by me," Charlie answers. "So you wanna go out sometime? Maybe get some grub after school?"
He winks at me and tries to look suave. The class laughs.
"Not today Charles," I respond. "I've already got plans. I have to...errr...wash my, uhh...hair."
The class laughs again.
"It's cool. I'll catch you later, though," he promises, wiggling his eyebrows.
"Yeah, much later," I retort. "Don't hold your breath."
"Well unless anyone else would like to ask Ms. Parker out, I'm going to ask her to continue about her life in the TOWN of Dike," Mr. Slater says trying not to look amused, and not very well I might add.
"Dike itself is pretty small," I continue, "but it's only ten minutes a way from a metropolitan area of 120,000 people or so. My graduating class was supposed to be about 100 people. Dike is just one of those towns where everyone knows everyone and is in everyone else's business. I didn't name the town so don't blame me for what it implies. I just lived there, and not really by choice. It's pretty dull. Just another town in the middle of a cornfield. Most of the locals are farmers, and worse yet, half the town is related. My mother was from Oklahoma, but my step-dad was in big business at a John Deere tractor plant in the metropolitan area so we just kinda lived there. Our house was on a golf course, part of this new housing development outside of town. Don't ask me, I don't know whose idea that was to build it like that. I just know that on any given day, if you were out on the lawn you had to be careful you don't get knocked out by a golf ball."
Charlie raises his hand again, smiling. I nod hesitantly.
"Ever been cow tipping?" he asks.
"No, can't say that I have, Charles. I wasn't at that 4-H slumber party," I reply.
A girl up front raises her hand. I point to her.
"You golf?" she asks.
I snort.
"Heck no," I say. "I haven't the time or patience. I like to run though."
The curly blonde associated with Max raises her hand from a seat along the wall. I didn't even notice she is in this class. Figures, since she is sitting with a clan of blonde cheerleader clones.
I look around to see if anyone else has raised their hand. I will someone else to raise their hand. Unfortunately my skills at telepathy are not what the used to be. She starts to squirm and wiggle her arm to get my attention. I sigh.
"Yes?" I sigh, acknowledging her.
"Hi, I'm Tess," she introduces herself, very bubbly.
"That's great. I'm glad for you," I state.
Sadly, she doesn't notice the bland, uninterested look on my face and continues.
"I was wondering why you moved here to Roswell," Tess says.
I don't really like where this is headed.
"Well, don't let it keep you up at night," I respond, hoping she will shut up.
She looks at me for a while like she still expects me to answer. Just as she opens her mouth to say something else Mr. Slater pipes in.
"Alright, I think that's enough interrogating of Liz for today. You can have a seat," He tells me.
I walk back to my original spot in the very back as Mr. Slater starts to address the class.
"Okay, everyone. Now that we have the basic fundamentals of biology down, we can get into the fun stuff. Tomorrow we are going to be doing our first lab. Liz, you're a lucky girl because we haven't assigned lab partners yet. Better yet, now that you are here, we have an even number of students. I read the letter of recommendation from your last biology teacher, and I must say you sound quite impressive. I'm sure you'll fit right in and catch on quick," Mr. Slater smiles broadly at me.
I smile back. Mr. Slater seems to be a pretty okay guy. Very relaxed. Nice.
"Now," continues Mr. Slater, "I chose the partners based on who I think you will work well with and learn from not who I think your friends are."
The whole class groans loudly. Charlie boos.
"Settle down," Mr. Slater says. "I'm sure by the end of the year you will be thanking me."
"Only if I'm with Liz," grumbles Charlie, laying his head down on his desk.
I gag at the possibility.
"Okay, listen up," asserts Mr. Slater. "I don't want to have to go through this list twice. First off we have Kate Myers and Jill Poe, Tess Harding and Charlie Harrison, Tommy Newman and Blake Stevens, Liz Parker and Max Evans, Tami Lee and ......"
Max's head jerks up.
Max Evans! Fuck. I'm with MAX?! Of all the...wait, wait, wait. Mystery man's last name is EVANS??!! Evans, the same as in ISABEL EVANS???!!! Double Fuck. HELL NO. NO, NO, NO.
There must be a mistake. I haven't done anything THAT horrible.
Breathe Liz, breathe. It is OKAY. Mr. Slater seems reasonable. I'm sure if you just explain to him...what, exactly? That you had the hots for this guy, but he already has a girlfriend, and you nearly got your ass kicked by his sister this morning? Good luck.
Hey, where's your optimism? C'mon, Liz. Optimism. Maybe he's an okay guy. And hasn't heard about the fight yet. Maybe Isabel isn't even his sister at all. It could be a coincidence. Really. It could. Yeah, and I said optimism, not denial.
Mr. Slater finishes his list.
"Can I have everyone shift so that they are sitting next to their partner?" says Mr. Slater. "Then I'll hand out the lab sheet and the two of you can look it over together."
I look over at Max. He looks back at me. So I have to be his partner, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. Or be nice either. I avert my eyes and stare at the pencil on my desk. Max realizes that I'm not going to move and comes over and takes the desk next to mine. Tess and Charlie take the two desks in front of us. Well, aren't we one happy little family?
Mr. Slater comes by with the lab sheet.
"Max-ie," Tess whines. "I wanted to be with yooooou."
Excuse me while I go barf.
"Hey Tess," Max says in a sickeningly sweet voice. "Do you think you could go somewhere else? We really do need to get some work done."
Tess scowls. Charlie doesn't look all that happy either.
"I mean, if you were here I know you would just be a big distraction. I'd never get anything done. I'd be too busy looking at your pretty face and listening to what you have to say Tessy-bear. I'd hardly acknowledge poor Liz over here. It just wouldn't be fair to her," Max continues.
Seriously, the chunks are rising. Which way to the nearest restroom?
"Awww, Maxie!" Tess grins.
"Dude, not me. I'd have no problem paying attention to Liz. She's hot," Charlie pipes in.
Tess frowns. Max frowns.
"Thanks, Charles," I say, meaning it. "It's not like I'm an old maid."
I glare at Max. His eyes plead with me. Oh, what the hell, I'm a softy. That, and I don't want her over here anymore than he apparently does.
"Hey, Tess," I say. "I don't mean to monopolize your boyfriend or anything. There is just so much that I don't know and need him to explain. But I'd love to have you come over and chat with us after I get all caught up."
I flash her my biggest, bestest, not to mention fakest, smile to seal the deal.
"I guess you are right Liz. Max is really smart and you definitely could use his help. C'mon Charlie," Tess finally responds.
Definitely, my ass! I'll probably be carrying Max myself within two weeks. I give her a thumbs up.
Charlie hesitates. He looks back and forth between me and Max suspiciously. It's my turn to plead with my eyes. Eventually, he stands up, and he and Tess move over by one of her cheerleader friends.
"Sorry about that," Max says after they leave. "Thanks, though."
"I don't know what you are talking about," I reply refusing to acknowledge my aid to the bastard.
I despise him already, and I'm not even sure why.
"Tess means well most of the time, but sometimes I just need air," Max continues.
"Trouble in paradise?" I raise an eyebrow.
"Oh goodness, yes," replies Max. "Tess can be a hand full. Sometimes she's just too clingy and pushy. She's a nice person though, and I am committed to her."
Why is he telling me this? Does he think I give a flying fuck? Tess is nice alright. Nice and annoying. And why does he say that like he's obligated to her or something?
"I never got to properly introduce myself. I'm Max," he says extending his hand.
I stare at him.
"I had a dog named Max once. He was really dumb. He got hit by a car, and then I had to take him out in the cornfield shoot him with my step-father's rifle to put him out of his misery," I blurt. "I'm Elizabeth, by the way."
Max studies me for a moment.
"Well, I had a rat we called Elizabeth once. She was really stupid. She escaped her cage and crawled in between the walls and died. We didn't find her till she started to smell," Max responds.
What do you know? The boy has some semblance of balls after all.
"So you any relation Isabel Evans?" I ask cautiously.
"Yeah," Max smirks. "She's my sister."
Well I'll be damned. Why didn't I just shoot myself in the foot this morning before I came to school?
I wonder if he's heard about Isabel's and my run in.
Naw, he couldn't have. Otherwise, he wouldn't be trying so hard to be friendly. Would he?
The bell rings and we gather our stuff. Max heads towards the door, but before he exits he looks back.
"By the way," Max says, "the Tic-Tac line? THAT was priceless. I've never seen Isabel so speechless before in my life."
He dodges out the door, and I'm left standing there shocked.
Mr. Slater walks by and pats me on the back.
"Yeah," he agrees, "that was classic."
Mr. Slater exits the room. I stand there alone for a while, to soak up my utter astonishment. Before I know what has gotten into me, I run out the door chasing after Max.
Unfortunately Max is long gone. Lucky for me Charlie waited around. Real lucky.
"So Liz, when we going out?" Charlie asks.
"Never," I growl, irritated.
"Hey, I can dig a challenge," he laughs.
The boy just doesn't get the picture. I am about to put my knee into his groin to show him when his friend from earlier that hit him upside the head steps up.
"Charlie, man, the lady said no. Cut her some slack," he says smiling at me.
I smile back. I hadn't noticed earlier how cute the guy is. Blonde hair, blue eyes, very cute indeed.
"Hi, I'm Sean. I'm sorry about my friend here. Unfortunately, he has no manners," Sean introduces himself, extending a hand.
I shake.
"It's nice to meet you. I'm Liz," I respond.
He still hasn't let go of my hand.
"I know," he says.
He releases my hand.
"Welcome to Roswell," Sean continues. "And if there is anything you need, or anything at all I can do for you, you just let me know."
"Okay," I nod.
He smiles.
"Well, I guess I'll be seeing you around," Sean says.
"I hope so," I reply before I can be embarrassed by my obvious attraction.
"Me too," Sean says grinning.
He certainly doesn't seem embarrassed. He winks at me and then grabs Charlie who is looking on, somewhat dumbfounded by Sean's ease with me. Sean drags Charlie down the hall by the scruff of his collar, the whole time lecturing him about manners in the presence of a lady, or at least for as long as they are within my earshot.
I sigh, and turn around to wander my way to my next class. Thankfully, it's a beginning drawing class that Alex is in. I sit next to him, and the hour flies by full of his witty remarks and my sarcastic retorts.
Next I move on to gym class and lucky for me, Maria has it the same hour. Very lucky, because so does Isabel. We kept our distance occasionally exchanging murdering glares. Other than that the hour goes by pretty uneventful, thank heavens.
Fourth hour, Alex, Maria, and I all have a literature class called 'Great Books' together, which is fantastic because it means we all eat the same lunch shift.
Fifth hour I have French with Isabel. Same treatment as in gym. But to my pleasure, Sean is in the class and we sit in the back goofing off most of the hour, making faces at Isabel. The teacher does not seem to appreciate this.
Sixth hour I have a very boring study hall with Maria, Tessy-bear and my good friend Charlie. Fun, Fun.
I finally see Max again seventh hour in my math class. He and Tess both have Calculus with me, which I find surprising. I didn't know Tess's small mind could incorporate such complicated usage of numbers. Eh, go figure. I'm wrong about many things.
The entire rest of the day passes rather uneventfully and I feel relieved when the final bell rings. As I walk down the hall to my locker at the end of the day I notice Max fall into step beside me.
"Hey," Max greets me.
"Hey," I reply.
"How was your first day?" He wonders.
"Okay," I grumble refusing to let him know I like talking to him.
"Just okay?" he asks.
"Well, I didn't cause anymore disturbances. I stayed away from your sister, you'll be glad to hear," I respond warily.
Max laughs.
"Isabel is very self-righteous," he says.
"You must mean self-centered," I counter.
"Okay, that too," Max chuckles.
He just brushes off every insult I throw at him. Why the hell is he so damn agreeable?
"Why the hell are you so damn agreeable?" I practically shout.
He looks at me shocked by my outburst.
"I mean I try to offend you but you just ignore it. Why are you nice to me? I am a complete bitch to you and I almost decked your sister this morning. Are you mentally retarded or something?" I wonder.
"I'm sorry," Max responds quietly, obviously a little hurt.
I sigh.
"Why on earth were you nice to me after I got in that fight with your sister?" I say.
"Isabel can be really stuck up. It was kinda nice to see her ego deflated a bit. She's really high and mighty sometimes. She needs someone to knock her back down to earth every once and a while to remind her what planet she's living on. As for your bitchiness though, I just figured you were like that to everyone," he says.
I look him in the eye to make sure he's serious. He is.
In that case, point taken. I suppose I can sometimes be unnecessarily unpleasant. Occasionally.
"Sorry," I mumble looking down.
I decide now is a good time to end this conversation and I walk away.
"Liz, wait," Max calls after me.
I walk faster. Stupid, I know. I can't outrun him, and even if I could, I certainly couldn't evade him forever. I spot a drinking fountain on my right. I shove past a person about to bend over and stick my mouth in the stream.
"Bitch," I hear the girl swear a me.
Alright so it wasn't polite to push, I'll admit, but there is no need for name calling. I turn around about to pounce. Then I realize who exactly I have shoved aside, and I freeze. Shit.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" Isabel Evans screeches at me.
I'm about crap my pants. She looks really pissed and really scary. Damnit, I already pressed my luck earlier and some how I don't see myself coming out of this little incident so fortunate.
"Uhhh...sorry," I stammer. "I was really parched."
Not really a lie. My throat certainly is dry now. Very, very dry.
She squints her eyes and makes that perfect Polaroid face again.
I wince.
"Well, I'm just going to get a uhhh...drink, and I'll be on my way. Ummm...very sorry," I manage to say.
She smirks at me. I turn around and bend over again to get a drink when I notice Isabel place her hand on the side of the fountain. I feel a little prickle in my fingers that are touching the fountain, kind of like a very weak electrical shock.
"Liz! Don't!" Max rushes in on the scene.
I'd completely forgotten about him. He knocks me out of the way just as I turn the little knob to turn on the water fountain. A huge spray gushes out and I quickly release the valve. What the fuck?
"Liz, you have to be careful," says Max calmly through clenched teeth, glaring at Isabel. "This fountain's broken. It can be really screwy sometimes."
He stands between me and Isabel and places a hand on my upper arm.
"Wow. I sure as hell guess so. Thanks for the heads up," I reply still stunned.
I stare at the surrounding wall and floor dripping with water that could have been all over me.
"No problem," Max responds leading me away by my arm and still glaring at Isabel who is frowning right back.
We walk a little ways before Max stops and turns to me.
"You okay?" he asks, looking me over.
"I think so. That was really weird," I tell him. "The drinking fountain was working fine the first time I got a drink."
"My advice," Max states, "is to stay out of Isabel's way from now on. She can be very...irrational sometimes."
"I'm not afraid of her," I insist, looking him in the eye.
"I know," he replies, "and I think that's what irks her the most. Just watch your back."
"Alright," I sigh. "Listen, I'll see you tomorrow, okay? I was supposed to meet Maria at my locker a while ago."
"Okay," Max says hesitantly.
I smile politely at him before I walk away. It is the least I can do after the boy saved me a change of clothes. I hurry to my locker to find Maria and Alex waiting.
"Where have you been, girl?" Maria asks when she spots me.
"Eh, I had a run in with Isabel," I shrug.
Maria turns pale.
"Well, I see that you are still in one piece, that's reassuring, but if you want to stay that way you are just going to have to wise up. You can only tease death so many times before it gets the best of you," Maria states worriedly.
"Don't be so melodramatic, Maria. She's not going to die. Isabel won't kill her. Maim? Maybe. Paralyze? Probably. But Isabel would never actually go so far as to kill someone. Granted, her enemies have a tendency to disappear..." Alex trails off.
Well now I'm shaking in my boots. Assuming I was wearing boots. Whatever. Bad cliche.
"Remember that one boy? Nicholas, or something? One minute he and Isabel have a big fight in front of the school about complexions or something and the next day the kid is just gone. Vanished. For good. Crazy, strange shit," Alex continues.
Heh. Heh, heh. Insert nervous laugh here.
"Isabel Evans is definitely a weird one. Disappearing for days at a time. Always nervous and suspicious. Honestly, sometimes I think she might seriously be insane," admits Maria.
"A couple cards missing from the full deck," states Alex.
"Yeah," agrees Maria.
"One crayon short of a whole box," Alex says.
"Uh huh," responds Maria.
"A few bulbs gone off the string of Christmas lights," Alex continues.
"Right," says Maria.
"One egg less than a dozen," Alex goes on.
"Yup," Maria nods.
"Several peas rolled out of that pod," Alex rattles off.
"Totally," Maria smiles.
"Minus a penny or two from a dollar," Alex grins.
"No kidding," Maria laughs.
"A burger short of-"
"Enough," I break in. "I get the picture. Sheesh."
"Just be careful," Maria warns. "Isabel Evans is unpredictable."
"Okay, I'll try." I promise.
"In the infamous words of Yoda, 'there is no try. Do or do not,'" Alex quotes with a perfect Yoda accent.
"Geez, guys. I'm touched that you are worried, but I'm a big girl and can take care of myself," I swear.
"I sure hope so," sighs Maria.
"Just out of curiosity, Alex, what is she a burger short of?" I wonder.
"A happy meal, of course." Alex smiles.
"Oh, Liz, I forgot to tell you," Maria squeals excitedly.
"Uh oh," Alex rolls his eyes.
"We were invited to Pam Troy's birthday party tomorrow night! All my life I have wanted to be invited to one of her parties. She throws the best parties in all of Roswell. Oh we have to go, we just have to!" Maria jumps up and down.
"Well don't wet your pants," Alex frowns. "How do you know her parties are so great anyways? You've never gone."
"EVERYONE knows her parties are awesome, Alex," Maria crosses her arms.
"Why would you want to go anyways? She's only inviting us so we will bring Liz. She only invited us after you told her you were friends with Liz, and she made you promise to bring her," He sneers.
"So what?" Maria argues. "We got invited didn't we? Why can't you ever be gracious? It could be a lot of fun."
"I'll be gracious when there is something to be gracious about. You can count me out on this one," Alex states, full of pride.
Maria sighs.
"Fine. Be that way. Liz and I will go and have a wonderful time and tell you all about it. Won't we Liz?" Maria asserts.
They both look at me.
"Uhhh...okay. I mean, I guess so?" I respond, apologizing to Alex with my eyes.
Hey, I'm not about to turn down a party. I live to party. Sorry Alex.
"Good," smiles Maria with renewed excited. "You can come over and we can do our hair and makeup together! Ooooo, I just had a great idea, you can spend the night at my house!"
"Uhhh...sure," I respond. "I have to ask my dad, but I think so."
"See Alex, it will be lots of fun. You'll be sorry you missed out," Maria flaunts.
"I guess so," Alex says dryly.
"You sure you don't want to go Alex?" I ask. "It sounds like it might be fun?"
"I'm sure. Don't worry about it, Liz. You go and have a good time with Maria," he assures me.
The next day of school goes by like a blur. Me avoiding Isabel. Me avoiding Max. Me avoiding Charlie. Me avoiding Tess. Shit, it's day two and I already have a fat ass list of people to avoid.
Huh. I just must not be the sociable type. Damn. Oh well, I'm over it.
Max tries to have an actual conversation with me in bio and I keep dragging the attention back to the lab. When his hand brushes mine, my skin prickles and I get goosebumps. I keep my hands far from his for the rest of the hour.
In gym class the teacher tries to make everyone climb this high, long-ass rope for a grade. She grades you on your method of climbing. You have to shimmy yourself up there some way to even get a grade. Everyone utterly sucks at it, everyone but me and Isabel. Oddly enough we are the only two people in the class that make it up the A way which is hands only.
Whatever, I just went up to the top.
The gym-teacher Mrs. McGraine says we are two of the only three girls that have done it so far. Surprise, surprise, the other girl is Tess Harding. Tess never really struck me as the strong type before. I must really just be way off on her. Then again, Isabel surprised me too. I thought she would have been afraid she might break a nail or get a callous or something.
Eh. I still do massive amounts of push-ups and sit-ups and weight-lifting so it seemed a piece of cake to me but I'm guessing the rest of Roswell doesn't share my enthusiasm for fitness. I have such a petite body that I better make up for what I lack in size with strength.
I meet this Pam Troy chic at lunch. She seems nice enough if you ask me. A little involved with herself, but nice, in a fake, artificial, blonde highlights, baked to a golden brown, zapped a few too many brain cells with her cell phone kind of way. Well, nobody's perfect. She makes sure I will be attending her big birthday bash and I confirm that I am.
Dad was thrilled that I am making friends so fast. Note to self: do not let Dad and Isabel come within 50 feet of each other.
Sean and I sit together in French again and flirt for most of the hour. He asks my plans for the weekend and I tell him about Pam and he laughs and tells me that he'll be at the party too. Apparently he and Pam go way back, whatever that means.
Tess and her cheerleading friends swam around me and Maria in study hall. First, they start by asking me all sorts of doofy questions like what kind of shampoo I use to make my hair smell like strawberries and what kind of music they listen to in Dike. Then they go on to tell us about how cute the outfits they bought for Pam's big party are, listing their entire ensemble down to their accessories.
Maria and I have to listen with glazed eyes, but every once in a while I pop in a good sarcastic remark or two that they totally don't get.
Finally they move into the latest gossip about this couple or that or who's cheating on whom or what people are pissed at each other. It would have been a hell of a lot more meaningful if I couldn't count the people I know in Roswell on my fingers. Maria seemed really interested though.
I tell you, if I ever need dirt on anyone, I know where I'm going.
For the most part though, the conversation centers around the one big underlining theme of Pam Troy's birthday blow out. This is like the social event of the year at West Roswell High, home of the comets. After all the hype this puppy gets it better be the best damn party I've ever been to, or at least one kick-ass blast.
At the end of the day Max tries to walk me to my locker with his friendly, Brady-bunch quality chit chat, but Tess intercedes. Ah, well. Max waves goodbye, and Tess blows me a kiss like we are best friends or something. Or something. That girl is just lucky I haven't had a chance to cream her annoying, sorry ass yet. I'll humor her as long as it is to my advantage to or I have nothing better to do and not a second longer. It's not like I don't try to insult her as it is. She just doesn't understand the irony in my responses. At least Max understands; he's just naive enough to believe it's my personality. Go figure.
Maria takes me home to grab some of my stuff to spend the night and then we head over to her house. I wish I was lucky enough to have two-day weeks every week. Maria and I make our way to the Kitchen as soon as we get to her house and rustle around for some grub. I settle on some Oreos and some milk and Maria grabs a bag of Gardettos.
"In our kitchen," she says, "we only have one rule. You can eat whatever you can find."
"Good rule," I tell her with a mouth full of cookies. I swallow. "You don't need a lot of rules if the ones you have are good."
"Very true," Maria states. "Although, the house wide rule of you make the mess, you clean it up seems to have less popularity around here."
I take a big gulp of milk. Sean walks by the doorway and waves.
"Hey Liz," he says as he heads upstairs.
I spit milk all over myself.
"What the hell is he doing here?" I question Maria.
"He lives here," Maria laughs at the milk dribbling down my chin.
"Cripes, Sean is your brother?" I ask.
"Oh thank heavens, no. He's my cousin, but he lives here with me and my mom. It's a complicated family situation," Maria explains.
You know, I don't remember ever hearing Sean's name attached to a last name. Note to self: be more observant.
"So it's just the three of you living here?" I wonder.
"Yup," Maria says through a mouth full of Gardettos.
"Huh. You think Sean would have told me. I KNOW I've mentioned you to him before," I say.
"Sean lives in his own world," Maria replies. "If it makes you feel any better he gave me the third degree about you last night so I just assumed you knew."
"You know something Maria? This is one very small world," I respond.
"No kidding," she says. "You know you have milk all over yourself? Want to go change?"
"Good idea," I say.
We head upstairs. We walk past Sean's room and the door is wide open. He's got posters of his favorite bands and his favorite super models covering the walls. Metallica is blaring from his stereo.
"What the hell happened to you?" he says when he sees me.
"I had an accident," I say angrily. "When exactly were you planning on telling me that you were related to my good friend Maria here that I have been telling you all about?"
"Eh. It didn't really come up. I figured you would find out sooner or later," he shrugs.
"Didn't come up?! I talk about Maria all the time. You asked me who I liked most here so far and I said Maria DeLuca and Alex Wittman!" I spew back.
"Maybe I didn't want Maria telling you bad things about me," Sean says quietly, looking down.
Maria rolls her eyes.
"Whatever. He's totally playing you with that face, Liz. If you wouldn't do bad things then maybe I wouldn't have to tell Liz about them," adds Maria matter-of-factly.
"I'm sorry Liz," Sean pleads. "I knew you would find out sooner or later, I just hoped it would be later after you had a chance to form a good impression of me first."
"It's okay Sean," I sigh. "It's really no big deal, but in the future you should tell me things like this."
"No prob," Sean smiles at me like we never had this conversation.
I almost wonder if we actually did. I just smile back and Maria drags me out of the room. We go into her and she locks the door behind her.
"You know he is just going to try to play you, right?" She asks.
"Maybe I like to be played," I say casually.
"I know you like to play with fire Liz, but this time I promise you will get burned," Maria replies. "Sean has the shortest attention span of any guy ever and wouldn't even know how to begin to treat a girl well."
How ‘bout a little fire, Scarecrow? Bring it on. He didn't seem that bad to me. Maria exaggerates, but still, I suppose there could be a little truth in her objections.
"Geez, Liz. You even have milk in your hair! Gross. You better take a shower," Maria says changing the subject.
I smell my hair. Yup. Definite scent of cow juice.
"You're right, or tonight I will reek like rotten dairy. I don't want to develop the reputation of being the stinky kid at school. That's ALL I need," I respond.
"Don't worry," Maria smirks. "Smelly Ken has already claimed that award for the last 13 years and I think he's in danger of being dethroned."
I chuckle. Maria leads me to the bathroom and I take a quick shower.
The best thing about Maria's house is that it already feels like my second home. We lay on her bed for a while watching Beverly Hills, 90210 reruns. Her room is really nice. She has a big canopy double bed with a deep purple bedspread and drapes and such. All different colors of purple accent her room and the pillows on her bed are unique in shade. She has a lot off really antique looking furniture, including Victorian style lamps and an old maple wood desk. Maria definitely has taste in her decorating and I can tell she went to a ton of work to get her room just right.
"Maria where did you get all this great stuff? Your room looks awesome," I tell her.
"Eh, my mom and I visit a lot of flea markets and garage sales. Oh, and auctions are good too," She says.
"You have to help me redecorate my room," I plead.
"Sure, that sound like fun," Maria agrees.
At five or so Maria and I run down stairs and stick a frozen pizza in the oven. At 5:30 we remember to turn on the oven. At six we put another pizza in because we discover Sean and some of his friends have eaten ours.
Around seven or so Maria and I get dressed. She puts on a shimmering green spaghetti strap tank top that brings out the color of her eyes perfectly. I pull on my baby blue velvet camisole tank. Maria crimps my hair and pulls half back in a messy but very stylish fashion. I make little twists in Maria's hair to pull it all back into a disheveled bun on top of her head.
Maria and I, damn, do we have style. She thinks exactly like me, and we have such similar taste it astonishes me. I don't trust myself to do Maria's makeup; it's never been my specialty. Instead I watch in awe as she magically conceals any minor flaws she may have had and subtly highlights her face in all the right places to make herself look astonishingly beautiful. Heh. And I have to show up with her. Heh, heh.
"Damn, Maria. You look fantastic. You're like a professional makeup wiz or something. Crap. I never look that good," I say.
Maria is just naturally pretty to begin with and with a little make up she looks like a goddess.
"Thanks," she says grinning. "Want me to do you now?"
"PLEASE," I plead taking a seat in front of her.
"Okay," she smiles, "but you have to completely trust me and can't look until I'm done."
I agree. The last time I let someone else do my make up was years ago. My best friend Lindsay begged me to let her and she ended up putting on way too much, making me look like a clown. I haven't trusted anyone to do my makeup since. I tell Maria this. She giggles.
"Don't worry, Liz, I know what I'm doing. The trick is not in how much you put on but how you put very little on," Maria tells me.
She sounds knowledgeable so I just let her loose. She uses shades that I assure her look bad on me and she tells me to just wait and see.
"There, finished," she says admiring her work smiling.
She puts down the mascara she has in her right hand and picks up a hand-held mirror. I try to turn around to get a glimpse of my self in her big mirror behind me but she stops me.
"Not yet , Liz! You do look spectacular if I say so myself. Granted, though, I might be biased because you are my work of art. Wait just a sec. SEAN!" She hollers.
I hear Sean slowly tromp up the stairs to Maria's room.
"What do you want now?" he grumbles as he enters the room.
He stops dead when he sees me and his eyes go wide.
"Wow, Liz. You look gorgeous," Sean stares.
"Maria, let me see!" I say snatching the mirror from Maria's hand.
I gasp when I see myself. Maria has made me look much older and much, much prettier.
"Shit, Maria. You are awesome," I tell her.
"No you are," she laughs.
"You girls leaving soon?" Sean asks. "If you are you can ride with me and my boys."
"No, I will not be your designated driver Sean," Maria replies rolling her eyes.
"Naw, we already drew straws. It's Charlie's turn," Sean responds grinning.
"Well, in that case, as touched as I am that you want to be seen with me in public Sean Deluca, I'm still going to have to decline your offer on the basis that we are not quite ready yet, and that your friends might try to grope us on the way home. You of course would be a perfect gentleman and never try such moves on Liz," Maria says.
"Naturally," Sean states.
Maria snorts.
"Well, we're gonna go then," Sean says as he backs out of the room still gawking at me, "but I guess we will see you there."
He leaves and Maria turns to me smiling.
"We are going to have so much fun tonight!" She proclaims. "Just promise me that you will try to stay out of trouble Liz."
"Trouble? Ha. Innocent is my middle name. Elizabeth Innocent Parker. Has a certain ring, wouldn't you say?" I grin.
Maria laughs.
"Right," she rolls her eyes.
Maria and I finish getting ready, and when I look down at my watch I see it is nine already. Man, time flies when you are having fun, dancing around Maria's room in your under to 80's tunes by greats such as Tiffany. It's amazing Maria knows all the words to "I Think We're Alone Now" and fricking hilarious when she sings it to you in her underwear. Good times, good times. Maria and I finally go pile into her car.
"What time did this party start?" I ask Maria.
"Eh, Pam said six, which means seven and most people don't come until later anyways," Maria replies. "Pam's parents went out of town around five so six was the very earliest people were supposed to come. The thing about Pam's parties is that they tend to last all night; most people don't go home until around six a.m. and people come and go all night."
"So how old is Pam turning today?" I wonder.
Maria snorts.
"Actually, she's 18 but I'm pretty sure her birthday was around three months ago," Maria grins. "She just waits to have her birthday party when her parents go out of town. That, and she has about three birthdays a year from my count."
"She must really want a lot of presents," I chuckle.
"The problem is," Maria laughs, "that everyone forgets when her birthday really is because she has so many so-called ‘birthday' parties."
"Damn, and I thought she had found a good way to cheat the system," I smile.
Maria drives us a little ways out of town and turns off onto a private drive. Before long we run into rows of cars parked along both sides of the drive, and Maria parks. We get out and walk to Pam's house which is lit up against the night sky off about 100 meters in the distance. As we get closer I can see that Pam's home is a ritzy, southwestern-style, ranch house. Cars are disorderly parked in a field on her vast lawn to my right. I can hear music blaring from her house and voices laughing and shouting the closer we get. Maria and I approach the front door and look to each other.
"You want to do the honors or should I?" I ask Maria.
"Oh, after you," Maria says smiling.
I reach out and grab the door knob but before I can turn the door is yanked open.
"Liz is here," some guy I have never seen before in my entire life shouts at the top of his lungs.
A cheer raises from the party-goers and I see Pam make her way through a crowded room on my left towards us.
"Lizzie, you came," Pam squeals like we are best friends. "I'm so glad you're here. There are soooo many people that you just have to meet."
She forcefully takes my arm and drags me away.
"Uhh...I'll catch up with you later," I call back to Maria who looks disappointed.
Pam parades me around and introduces me to fifty billion people, none of whose names I remember. Finally I sneak away she turns for an instant to stop some guy from pissing in one of he potted plants. I definitely need a break, after having been on display for the last hour. I steal away for some piece and quiet on her back lawn which apparently isn't as novel of a concept as I had thought. Mostly there are just couples making out in dark corners, but a group of individuals is gathered by the pool so that's where I head.
"Liz Parker," says an all too familiar voice.
"Charles," I respond dryly with a nod.
The scent of alcohol is heavy in the air.
"We were just about to start a good old-fashioned game of truth or dare and we are looking for players," Charlie slurs.
"Enticing offer but I told Maria I'd be right back," I say backing away before Charlie can get too close. "You have fun though."
"No. Come back," he stammers as I dodge back into the house.
Once inside I set off in search of Maria. After a solid ten minutes I find her sitting on a couch with some guy that I don't recognize.
"Sorry," I say squeezing on the couch next to Maria. "Pam is one crazy bitch that thinks I'm like her new pet or something. It was boring as hell and I kept trying to break away, but she dug her nails into my arm."
I show her the marks to prove it.
"It's okay," Maria says. "I don't blame you. It's nice to have attention."
"Yeah," I reply. "I hope you didn't miss me too much."
"I was lost without you," she smiles.
"Who is this?" I ask gesturing to the guy sitting next to her. He's actually pretty cute with shaggy light brown hair in his brown eyes. He carries a distinct don't piss me off aura that I instantly appreciate.
"Oh, him?" Maria says giving a nod in the general direction of the guy. "That's just Michael Guerin. No one special."
"Thanks for the great introduction Maria," Michael responds bitterly. "You're not so special yourself."
"I'm Liz Parker," I say reaching a hand around Maria to shake Michael's.
"Charmed," says Michael glancing at me past a stubbornly frowning Maria. "I've heard of you."
"Really? What have you heard?" I question.
"Eh, someone told me you were a short, arrogant, ugly, monkey-faced bitch," Michael says casually.
FYI: I'm going to try to start editing this again and reposting it. I've been really ill lately so I'm not sure when I will get around to it but hopefully it will be soon....
No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main.
Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.
