Roswell Fanatics

Thanks to everyone for your continued support and words of kindness.


Part Eleven

I’m too happy.

I think this as I solemnly look at my reflection in my vanity mirror. Nothing good ever comes from my being too happy.

Most of the time, my heart is beating a little lighter and there seems to be a cushion of air beneath my feet. I can’t stop touching my lips, remembering his kiss, or looking at that massive hickey in the mirror. All the while, a giddy grin is on my face.

But after the giddiness comes the guilt. And the dread.

One of these days, Liz is going to come home. I haven’t heard from her since her date with Justin, so I don’t know if she’s decided to keep dating others or if the outing proved to her that Max was the one and only person for her. I do know that Max is trying to move on with his life. I’m just not too sure how happy Liz will be to find out he’s moving on with me.

I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I avoid Alex’s phone calls, even though I’m curious as to why I spotted him with the princess. I just can’t lie to him about Max – and I know he’d ask about Michael and I’d have to tell him that I was seeing Max instead.

Not that I’m ashamed of Max. God, that couldn’t be farther from the truth. It’s just that I don’t want the gossip that is going to start. It’s hard enough hiding this from Mr. Parker. I’m not sure what he’d do with the information – as a good parent, would he tell Liz? Or would he let her find out for herself?

Which brings the dread. As her best friend, I should be the one to tell her. But after I tell her, where will she turn to have her tears dried? As the best friend, that was also my role.

And I’m smiling again. Not because I just thought of hurting Liz, but because my mind has drifted back to Max again. I can still smell him, as though he was still here with me. I haven’t washed that halter top I was wearing at the fireworks show and every now and then I take it out of the drawer and hold it to my nose, inhaling deeply. It smells like his cologne; it has his fingerprints all over it. My stomach flips and I feel warm all over just thinking about it. No one has ever done that to me. Not even Michael.

There’s a light tap on my window and I glance at the clock as a reflex – it’s after one in the morning. I frown – if that’s Michael out there, waiting to rip me another one, then I’m going to be pissed. I pull back the curtains and find Max instead. Eyebrows lifted in curiosity, I push up the window.

“What’s going on?” I ask him, alarmed that something is wrong.

But he smiles. “Can I come in?”

I glance toward my door and nod. “But be quiet – Mom gets a little ballistic when she finds boys in my room.”

He only laughs and slides through the window. I push it back down, glad to be rid of the hot night air.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

As an answer, he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me to him, giving me a long kiss. Suddenly, I don’t care why he’s here – I only care that he’s here.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he finally answers, pulling back but still holding me. “You didn’t come to my room tonight.”

Max hasn’t had a nightmare in over a week. He doesn’t need me to sleep with him anymore…need being the operative word there.

“Yeah, I know,” I reply, my voice a little uncertain.

Immediately his smile fades away. “What is it?”

I shake my head. “Nothing. It’s just that after last night…”

“Oh.”

I see pain and rejection in his eyes like I’ve never seen before. He drops his arms and starts to slowly back away. I reach out and grab his hand and he looks to the floor.

“Where are you going?” I ask, my voice tinged with a laugh.

“I understand,” he says, the joy gone from his voice. “I pushed you too far and now you’re freaking. I get it.”

I laugh a little harder and he looks at me uncertainly. “God, Max. That couldn’t be farther from the truth. I didn’t come to your room because I didn’t trust myself.”

Surprise replaces the uncertainty.

“See, I’m afraid if I crawl in the sack with you…I might not be able to keep my hands off you.” And that’s the truth.

His smile returns and he pulls me back into his arms. I will never, ever get tired of kissing him. I could stand here all night. But why stand when there’s a bed a few short feet behind me? I back us up without breaking our kiss, then we tumble onto the bed.

We lay there for a long time, just looking into each others’ eyes. We share smiles and the occasional kiss, until finally Max raises his hand and two things happen – the light goes out and I hear the door lock flip. I guess he’s staying here. Which makes me very happy.

In the darkness, I see his expression slowly turn serious. When he speaks, I realize the long-overdue conversation is about to start.

“I knew I was going to lose Liz,” he admits, his voice soft. “I knew it as soon as Tess came to town. I knew something was going to happen and that whatever it was, Liz wasn’t going to be able to deal with it.”

I reach out and touch his face, offering comfort. He takes my hand in his and holds it against his chest.

“That’s why I kept my feels for Tess from her. And I know now that they weren’t real feelings. I feel nothing for her.” There is no bitterness in his voice, only simple truth. “But I knew it, Maria. I knew that Liz was going to leave me.”

I cuddle closer to him, offering silent support.

He gives a humorless laugh. “You know I once dreamed I caught her in bed with Kyle?”

My eyes shoot to his. “Max, Liz never cheated on you.” For all of the short-comings I’ve accused Liz of in the last few days, that is definitely not one of them.

“I know,” he agrees with a nod of his head. “But it felt so real. And I think at that point I knew that some day something was going to tear us apart.” He shakes his head. “I didn’t know it would be my wife from a former life.”

“But she’s not your wife in this life,” I point out.

Max gives me a sad smile. “You understand.” It’s a simple statement, a simple statement loaded with meaning.

Why is it that he doesn’t need to explain the whole Tess dynamic to me, but he couldn’t make Liz understand that none of it mattered to him? Maybe because I was more removed from it, I could see it clearer. Liz was too close.

He draws in a breath and lets it out as a slow sigh. “I knew that Liz wasn’t strong enough to weather the storm. I knew it the night that we healed Michael. She was so freaked out by it, by what might happen to me someday. I knew then that she was too fragile for this kind of life.” He pauses a moment, then looks into my eyes. “But you, Maria. You were the strong one. You just stepped up and asked what it was you needed to do. I really admired that.”

I lean in and give him a lingering kiss in gratitude. When we part, his eyes roam over my face, like he’s memorizing every detail of it.

“I want to start over. With you,” he says softly. “And not because you’ve been a good friend, and not because you’re Liz’s friend. But because I respect you, you intrigue me, and I absolutely adore you.”

I swallow hard, his words bringing tears to my eyes.

He smiles and wipes my lashes. “You have to stop doing that. I’m going to get a complex if you start crying every time we’re together.”

I give a little laugh. “I only cry because you make me happy, Max. You really do. No one has ever treated me the way you do, and it just makes me…happy.” That’s the only word I can put to it.

He draws me to him, holding me tight against his body. I wrap my arms around him, trying to get as close as I possibly can. I’m holding him so tight that I can feel his ribs expand every time he inhales. I inhale just to breathe in his scent again. And then I feel something pushing into my thigh.

I pull back slightly, glancing down that way. When I look back to Max, he looks sheepish and I think if the lights were on, I’d see a nice healthy blush on his cheeks.

“Uh, sorry,” he says uncomfortably. “You have that effect on me…”

My eyebrows shoot up as I realize just what is against my thigh. “I want to feel it,” I tell him, not even thinking twice about the words that just came tumbling out of my mouth.

“What?!” he gasps, horrified.

“I’ve never felt a real one,” I manage, the embarrassment now shifting over to me. “I mean, I’ve seen one, you know, but I’ve never like got to touch one…” And now I’m babbling.

He must think I’m an idiot. He stares into the darkness for a moment, his lips parted as if he’d like to reply but just can’t find the words. Maybe he’s wondering why I never got that far with Michael. Maybe he’s putting together why it was I didn’t want to sleep in his bed tonight.

Finally, a little tenuous, he takes my hand in his and draws it down the length of his body. I grin, elated that he’s given in. I break away from his grasp and carefully run my hand over the front of his jeans. He flinches and turns both of his lips into his mouth, biting them. I’m not really concerned about his reaction, though, because I’m too enthralled with the new thing I’ve found. With my fingers, I follow the hard outline in the denim. It only intensifies my curiosity, so I reach for his zipper.

I drop the zipper a few notches and look into his face to see if he’s going to protest. His eyes are closed and he doesn’t look like he’s going to stop me, so I continue to pull it all the way down. I can feel the anticipation coursing through my veins as I slowly slide my hand inside, the teeth of the zipper lightly scraping the back of my hand. I push my way through the fly of his boxers and then I have him in my hand. I smile and he gasps.

But I’m not letting go. I’ve got some investigating to do. As I move my hand slowly up the length of him, he lets out a little cry and buries his head in my shoulder, his breathing starting to come a little more ragged. I don’t get very far when he suddenly reaches down and takes my wrist, stopping my motions.

“You have to stop,” he says, his face buried between my neck and the pillow. He sounds desperate. “Please.”

I want this. I want to touch him and know everything about him. But if it makes him uncomfortable, if he’s not ready to share this with me, then I will stop. Slowly, I withdraw my hand, stopping long enough to pull his zipper back up. He lies there for awhile, trying to compose himself.

“Thank you,” I whisper against his ear, grateful for the experience he has given me. Then I kiss the side of his head and turn to stare up at the ceiling.

Eventually we fall asleep, wrapped around one another.

******

Work is work. Michael glares at me, I stick out my tongue. Mr. Parker sends me on many errands – including orders to water the flowers again this weekend. But I care about nothing. I only care about this new feeling I have inside of me, this wonder at having a new love.

Occasionally the guilt comes and I have to beat it back with a stick. I know one day I will pay for all of my present happiness, but for now I’ve decided to just be happy.

I’m in the break room, sitting on the couch and resting my aching feet when I hear the back door open. I’m more than happy to see Max there and I immediately jump to my feet and greet him. He reaches for me, but I hold up a hand.

“Michael’s here,” I tell him, rolling my eyes. The two of them are still on poor terms and I’m not sure confirmation of mine and Max’s relationship would really help matters.

“I don’t care,” he says, grabbing me and pulling me into a huge embrace. “You feel so good.”

“Not as good as you felt last night,” I laugh.

He reddens like I expected and I laugh at him. My laugh dies off quickly, though, as I feel his hand grab my ass. Victorious, he leans in and kisses me, a long, hard kiss. My knees turn to jelly and my insides flip completely over. When he pulls back, he looks up and brushes some of my hair away from my forehead. He looks like he’s about to speak, but his eyes shift over my shoulder, grow immediately wide.

What happens next happens so fast that it’s almost a blur. I see an object, which I register too late as Michael’s fist, fly past my face. Max shoves me out of the way as the fist makes contact with his jaw, sending him sprawling on the break room floor. I think I scream because I hear an echo that sounds a lot like my voice.

“Damn you!” Michael screams, his face red. He stands over Max, his fists clenched.

Max touches his lip, comes away with blood.

“Get up and fight me,” Michael demands.

Max shakes his head. “I’m not going to fight you.” He starts to get to his feet and Michael hits him in the ribs.

There’s that echo again.

With a grunt, Max crumbles to the floor. I know that he could take Michael with one blast of his powers, but they’re in a public place and neither of them will whip out the voodoo.

“Stop it!” I shout, trying to get between the two of them.

I see fury in Max’s eyes as he gets to his feet. He looks ready to kill.

I hear the kitchen door swing open behind me, but I don’t really register the significance of it until I hear Mr. Parker’s voice boom behind me. I didn’t know the man had the ability to yell, so it takes me totally off guard, frightening me.

“Take it in the alley, boys!” he shouts.

Both Michael and Max look at him and I expect the fight to disburse. Instead, Max reaches behind himself and pushes open the door, his gaze fixed on Michael in an unspoken challenge.

“Max!” I screech, not believing what I’m seeing.

He doesn’t even look at me, and as I try to follow them out the door, Mr. Parker takes my arm.

“You’re staying here,” he says.

I see something in his eyes that I can’t put a finger on. Disappointment maybe? After the door closes, I can hear shouts in the alley – Max’s and Michael’s voices – then a lot of scuffling. They’re beating the crap out of one another. That is worrying enough, but when I finally put my finger on what I see in Jeff Parker’s eyes, it is more so.

He knows about me and Max.

tbc

Hi everyone ::Wave::

Thanks for being patient and hanging in there with this fic. It's nice to have readers who are ready to accept a UC world and be excited about it And you're all so complimentary! As a matter of fact, I had a hard time getting my shirt over my head this morning

I found it hilarious that no one commented on Maria molesting Max until Chips posted I thought for sure that would get a lot of comments

Susan, is that you defending Mikey G?



Part Twelve

“Jesus, Max, what were you thinking?”

We’re in his bedroom. I’m pacing the floor while he sits hunched on the edge of his bed, his arms wrapped around his midsection. There’s a gash on one of his cheeks – from the ring Michael wears, I assume – a bruise under one of his eyes, and his lip is split open. He coughs every now and then and looks miserable when he does so. I rake my hands through my hair.

“I can’t believe you took his bait,” I continue, disappointed in Max’s behavior for the first time ever.

When he speaks, his voice is quiet, the fight gone from him. “It wasn’t just about you, Maria.”

I stop my pacing and turn to look at him. I must be some kind of ego manic to think that their scuffle was all centered on me. Painfully enough, that’s exactly what I’d been thinking. Never in the last two hours did it occur to me that there are more things going on between Max and Michael than just the shift of my affections. God, I’m a bitch sometimes.

He looks down at the floor, squeezes his ribs a little tighter. “It’s been coming for a long time.” He sighs raggedly. “Don’t let it upset you. This is nothing new for me and Michael.”

He sounds so sad that I immediately want to put my arms around him. Before I can move, however, the door flies open and there is the princess herself. She stops in the doorway, her hand on the doorknob.

“Max! I just heard that you and Michael –“ Her words cut off in her throat as she spies me. Then she snorts, cocks her head and puts her hand on her hip. “That’s great, Max. That’s just fucking great.”

Max looks at me tiredly and without turning around raises his hand toward his sister. The door slams shut, forcing her to jump into the hallway or be flattened. Through the door, I can hear her voice, bitching, and I muse that it must be hard for her to reconcile that she not only lost one of her brothers to me, but now she’s lost both of them. I wonder when she will realize that they are not hers alone and that they want lives without her clucking around them like a mother hen.

Max curves his arm around his body again and winces. I feel a wave of sympathy wash over me. Internally, I wonder what condition Michael is in. When it comes to man to man battle, without the aid of extra-terrestrial powers, I have no idea who would win the fight. Max is muscular to the point of being ridiculous, and being smaller-framed than Michael he can probably move faster. But Michael is a big, strong guy and his brute strength might just outmatch Max’s.

I kneel down in front of Max, put my hand on his thigh.

“I was in no mood for her tonight,” he explains, maybe suffering a stab of guilt at having dismissed Isabel so abruptly.

I smile at him, touch his arm. “Where are you hurt?”

He sighs and taps his ribs lightly.

I replace my hand with his, wishing I had the power to heal. Carefully, I slide my hand under the bottom of his T-shirt and start to slowly pull it upward. “Show me,” I whisper to him.

He looks at me warily, but slowly uncoils his body and helps me lift the shirt over his head. I gulp when I see the massive bruise that is spreading across his rib cage. It looks bad enough that his ribs are probably bruised, if not broken. I touch the blemish with my fingertips and his body tenses, waiting for the pain. I replace my fingers with my lips, planting a gentle kiss against the discoloration. When I look up at him, I see that some of the anger and anxiety have dissipated from his eyes.

“Heal it,” I tell him.

He shakes his head. “People saw the fight,” he explains. “I can’t just all of a sudden show up without bumps and bruises.”

I smile with one corner of my mouth. “Yeah, but no one else is going to see this bruise.”

He gives a little laugh, then places his hand over his ribs. I watch in wonder as a faint glow appears beneath his palm and the bruise shrinks, then disappears entirely. Max draws in a deep breath, and I get the feeling he hadn’t done that in a long time. I stand up on my knees and touch his face, trace the abrasions there.

“I can’t do anything about those,” he says. “They’ll have to heal by themselves.”

I nod, saddened that his beautiful face has been so messed up. My reverie is cut short, however, when I feel his hands on the bottom of my shirt.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

He slides off the bed so that the two of us are standing on our knees on his bedroom floor, facing one another. He leans in and gives me a kiss, more tender than usual possibly because he’s favoring his sore lip. Against my ear, he whispers, “If you get to see my ribs, then I get to see yours.”

I swallow hard, but raise my hands above my head, letting him peel off my shirt. He drops it behind me, then pulls me in tight to his body with one arm. Our skin meets, abdomen to abdomen and I draw in a quick breath at the sensation. With his free hand, he delicately traces my collar bone, his eyes following his motions. With his finger, he draws a slow path straight down my breast bone, to the top edge of my bra. He hesitates there, his eyes shifting over the curve of my breasts. I want him to continue touching me, but he stops and puts both arms around me instead, pulling me tight to his body.

“I’m sorry I got into that fight,” he says against my ear. “I’m sorry for scaring you.”

I return his embrace, unsatisfied now that his touch is gone. But we are in his bedroom, his parents are probably in the house somewhere and God knows Isabel is probably planning her next attack. I have to keep reminding myself that we need to careful, that no matter how badly I want Max, the circumstances with him will never be easy.

*****

After I leave the Evans home, I drive the darkened streets of Roswell, on my way back to the Crashdown. I feel so much dread in my body that it’s hard to apply enough pressure to the gas pedal to keep the Jetta moving. I don’t want to have this discussion with Mr. Parker, but I know that I have to.

On the seat beside me, my cell phone rings inside of my purse and I jump. I fumble around until I locate it, then flip it on and hold it to my ear. “Hello?”

“Maria, what are you doing with him?”

It’s Michael. I frown, shaking my head.

“What do you care, Michael?”

“Are you doing this just to hurt me?” he accuses, his voice tense.

Max’s words come back to me in a flood. “Not everything is about you, Michael,” I tell him. Then I muse on how ironic it is that he can all of a sudden call me and expect me to pick up when he couldn’t offer me the same consideration a month ago.

“But this one is,” he insists. “I can’t figure out why you’d want to be with him, other than to try to get to me.”

I snort. “Yeah, because you’re such a prize. I invented this elaborate scheme to draw Max in so that I could just find another way to you. Way to go, Michael – you have me all figured out.” I feel anger burning in my chest – his words prove that he never really knew me at all.

“Well, why else would you want to be with him?” he demands.

“I don’t know – because I like him? Because he’s nice to me? Because he’s not an ass like you are?” I wave my hand in the air as I talk, a wonderful personality trait I inherited from my mother.

“Maria, I love you.”

Is he kidding me? “Yeah,” I say into the phone. “You love me too much to be with me. Isn’t that what you said? I’ve got news for you, Michael, when you really love someone, you can’t bear to be without them. And since you found it so easy to walk away, I can only assume that you don’t know what love is.”

I’ve had enough. I don’t care what his reply is, so I hang up and toss the cell onto the seat. Immediately it rings again, but I ignore it. It could be someone else calling, but I really don’t care at this point. I’m furious and I didn’t plan on going to talk to Mr. Parker in this state of mind. After the twelfth ring, the phone goes silent and I have to assume it was Michael redialing – no one else I know would let it ring that many times.

I pull my car to a stop in one of the Crashdown’s front parking spaces. I sit for awhile, taking deep breaths and composing myself to go in and talk to Liz’s dad. The UFO sign is dark and I can see the last of the night shift cleaning up before they go home. Once I think I’m ready, I pull myself together and get out of the car.

The exit door is still unlocked, so I go in through it, immediately spotting Mr. Parker in the back of the café, at a table working the receipts like he does every night. I approach him cautiously, not sure of the reception I’ll get.

I clear my throat. “Mr. Parker?”

He looks up, gives me a fatherly smile, then motions to the seat across from him. “Have a seat, Maria.”

I pull the chair out and slide into it. My knees are wobbling and I’m sure he can tell I’m nervous as hell about this.

“Do you know why I asked you to water the plants again this weekend?” he asks. I see no malice in is face or tone.

I shake my head.

“Nancy and I are flying to Florida. To see Liz.”

I swallow hard, but don’t say anything.

He looks away for a moment, then shakes his head. “I thought it was odd that Liz all of a sudden wanted to stay with her Aunt Jessica this summer. Jesse has been asking her every summer for the past five years if she’d like to come and Liz always told her no. But this summer Liz called her and asked to stay there. I found that strange, especially since she had a new boyfriend and all.”

His blue eyes shift back to me and I feel unbelievably comfortable.

“Before she left, she seemed depressed but kept insisting that nothing was wrong. I can’t imagine that she’s upset with you because she still cares and asks about you.”

Guilt rips through me like a dagger. I feel like the worst friend in the world for doing what I’m doing while she still cares about me.

“So, I can only conclude that something happened with Max. Something that sent her fleeing to Florida.”

I look down at my hands. “Mr. Parker, Max and I didn’t happen until recently,” I assure him.

When I look back to him, he’s nodding in understanding and I think he believes me. I’m glad to see that, but then I frown.

“Are you going to fire Michael?” I ask him.

He draws in a breath and sits back in his seat. “I can’t really tolerate violence in my restaurant, Maria.”

Even though Michael is being an ass, I still hate to see him lose the only source of income he has. “It was my fault, Mr. Parker. I should never have let Max come in here while Michael was working.”

He shakes his head. “No, none of this is your fault, Maria. You can’t be responsible for Michael’s behavior. He assaulted a patron on the café property. That opens me up to all kinds of legal issues.”

I’m starting to feel desperate for Michael. “Max isn’t going to press charges or anything,” I tell him, certain of that fact since both of them want to avoid the law at any cost.

But Mr. Parker shrugs. “Today it was Max. Tomorrow it might be someone else.”

That’s it then – he’s already decided to give Michael is walking papers. I feel incredibly sad, so I look down at my hands again, not sure what to say or if there even is anything to say. Mr. Parker reaches over and puts his hand on mine to get my attention.

“I’m not angry with you,” he states, kindness in his eyes. “Whatever happened between Liz and Max, and whatever is currently happening with you and Max is your business. If I have to deal with Michael, I will. But I know that you didn’t cause any of this.”

I draw in a breath, afraid of my next question and more afraid of the answer I’ll get. “Are you going to tell Liz?”

He sits back in his chair again, shaking his head. “No. That’s your job.”

tbc

Thanks, everyone I'm on vacation this week, so expect a lot of updates I've been incredibly lazy since Friday - watching movies, baseball playoffs, and plotting my next move with poor Maria

Lana, if you've read any of my other stuff, you know I'm incapable of the unhappy ending The Quest originally ended on an unhappy note and I had to change it But I think Max and Maria have a few bumps to get over first...



Part Thirteen

“I’m a mess, Alex.”

He sits across from me, attacking his hot fudge sundae. It’s an incredibly hot day and what was once ice cream is now a sludge of chocolate and vanilla in the bottom of his bowl. He looks up at me as he holds a spoonful of the goo to his lips.

“What’s the matter?” he asks, his eyes concerned, forever the best friend.

I sigh. I don’t know how to tell him this. Obviously the rumor hasn’t circulated yet, since he didn’t look at me with scorn when I met him here fifteen minutes ago. I don’t know how he’ll react. I don’t think I could bear it if he were to turn his back on me…not that I’d blame him if he did.

Alex wipes his mouth with his paper napkin and leans a little farther across the cheap plastic table outside of the ice cream stand. At least it has a small umbrella to help ward off the direct sun. Not that it matters much with the heat hitting from every side.

“What is it?” he asks again.

I draw in a breath. “I don’t know how to tell you this.”

His face falls into a mask of panic. “Are you okay? You’re not dying or something, are you?”

I give a little laugh, shake my head. “No, nothing like that.”

“Well, is it Liz then?”

I frown. “Maybe.”

His dark eyebrows shoot up. “She is sick? Hurt?”

I shift my weight in my chair. Hurt might be a good word to put to it. I’m sure she’ll be hurt when she hears I’ve been fondling her “soul mate.” I can’t just blurt out that little development, so I decide to take a different approach.

“Alex, I saw you here with Isabel the other night.”

His eyebrows fall back into place. “Oh.”

“Are things okay between you two?” I ask him curiously, glad I can hide my eyes behind my sunglasses.

He shrugs, crosses his arms on the tabletop. “I don’t know.”

“But you’re seeing her again, right?”

He shakes his head. “No. I happened to run into her here that night. She wasn’t exactly welcoming when she saw me.”

I remember seeing them together and not really taking note of their expressions or actions. I guess it was only natural to assume that they had come here together, not separately with only a chance meeting bringing them together.

“Do you think you’ll ever get back with her?” I ask, cautious of Alex’s feelings.

“I don’t know. What’s this all about? Michael?”

I nod. “Sort of.” I look down at the tabletop. I might as well get it over with. “Michael and I will never be together again, Alex. I know that now.”

He reaches across the table and puts his hand on my arm. “I’m sorry, Maria.”

“I’m not,” I reply and he looks surprised. “I’m not because I think I’ve found someone else.”

Alex gives me a big grin, always happy to see one of his friends happy. “You have? That’s wonderful, Maria!”

I tilt my head, once again thankful for the shades. “I’m seeing Max, Alex.”

All signs of joy dissipate from Alex’s kind face and his mouth slowly drops open. “Oh,” he manages.

I knew it. My heart drops all of the way down to my toes. I’m going to lose Alex out of this, too.

“How long?” he asks, withdrawing his hand from my arm.

“A few weeks.”

“Does Liz know?”

I shake my head. I hate that I can’t read the emotions in his eyes.

“And that’s why you’re a mess,” he concludes.

I nod, feeling the tears coming to my eyes. “Please don’t judge me, Alex.”

He smiles and shakes his head. “I’m not judging you, Maria. I’m just curious how this all came about.”

I look into the distance, at some kids playing on the small swing set behind the ice cream stand. “I can’t even answer that, Alex. He was there when I needed him. Then I was there when he needed me.” I look back to my friend and see that he is watching me intently, no condemnation in his eyes. “Do you know he was having nightmares from the white room?”

Alex shakes his head again. “No, but it doesn’t surprise me.”

“He was all alone, Alex. No one was there for him. Not Liz, not Michael, not even Isabel. And I saw the effects of that. I watched him fighting in his sleep, struggling with the nightmares when they came.”

Alex clears his throat. “Are you saying you’re with him out of pity?”

“No, absolutely not. But that’s why we started spending so much time together. And eventually I realized I had feelings for him.”

“And what about Max? How does he feel?”

I get a flashback of Max’s hands on my ribs, of his lips on my neck and a corner of my mouth lifts upward. “He’s a willing participant.”

Alex returns my half-smile and I’m elated to see that he isn’t about to lynch me for being the town harlot. “How willing?” he smirks.

I feel color coming to my cheeks. “Yeah, he’s willing, Alex. Not willing to the extent you’re thinking of – yet.” I sit back in my chair. “I don’t know what to do, Alex.”

“It sounds to me like you’re happy,” he says, picking up his spoon and stirring the mess in the bowl.

“I want to be,” I tell him. “But it’s hard to be with all of the guilt.”

“What guilt?” he asks, dropping the spoon and picking up the bowl.

“What do you mean, what guilt? I’m with Liz’s soul mate, Alex. Liz is my best friend. I feel like I’ve betrayed her.”

Alex tips the bowl back, drinking the remains of his sundae. He puts it down and wipes his mouth with the napkin. “Look, I don’t want to see Liz hurt. I don’t want to see you unhappy. But I think it all comes down to something extremely simple - if Max seriously has feelings for you, then there’s no way he and Liz were really soul mates.”

*********

A week suspension. That is the punishment brought down by Judge Parker in the case of the People versus Guerin.

As I walk through the Parker’s apartment, watering their damned houseplants, I think about that decision. I know that Mr. Parker could have – or rather, should have – kicked Michael out on his ass. But he’s a compassionate person and he knows that Michael has nowhere else to go. The week off is going to hurt him financially, but it won’t cripple him. I have to agree that it is a fair judgment.

But I worry about what Michael’s return will be like. I have to wonder if he’s sitting in his dump of an apartment blaming me, or Max, and if there is going to be some sort of repercussion for the whole mess. Max has pretty much steered clear of the Crashdown since the incident. As a matter of fact, I haven’t seen much of him the last few days and it bothers me.

Maybe it’s just separation anxiety. I got too used to him being around.

But maybe it’s something more than that. I keep hearing Alex’s words about if Max’s feelings for me are serious. I guess that’s the question, isn’t it? I know he’s already told me why he wants to be with me, but now I have that smallest shred of doubt in my mind that it’s all an illusion. And then the thought comes – when will he leave me?

Because eventually they all leave me. My dad. Michael. Is Max next?

Maybe I was stupid to ever let him in. What good has come of this? Michael is out a week’s pay, Max is bruised and battered, and Liz is on the fast-track to the shock of her life.

I avoid Liz’s bedroom entirely. I don’t feel welcome there anymore, although I know that is all in my head. I hope the Parkers didn’t move any plants in there to get sun, because they’ve got a long, thirsty weekend ahead of them.

In the living room, I pass the Fichus. It’s still alive. Even after I verbally assaulted it. Reaching out, I grab one of the branches and give it a little jiggle. A few leaves fall to the floor. I look at them, musing that I’m falling apart, too. We have a lot in common, me and this pitiful Fichus tree. So I pet its leaves and give it a drink and leave it to its slow decay.

Downstairs, it feels odd not to look toward the kitchen to see if Michael is giving me the evil eye. Jose is there instead, also giving me the evil eye for having to pull double shifts to cover Michael’s. Sorry, dude.

Out in the restaurant, I see one of the last people I ever want to see again – Tess. Perched on a stool at the bar, looking all smug and I-used-to-be-a-queen-like. Could my life get any worse?

But I will be the bigger person. So I pull out my order pad and walk over to her. “What’ll it be, Tess?”

“Oh, I didn’t come to eat.” She looks at me with those big blue eyes and I want to smack her.

“Well, this is a restaurant, and that’s what people do here. If you aren’t going to eat, how about vacating that stool so someone else can have it?”

My words ring stupidly in my ears as she slowly looks around the café – it’s virtually empty. “I don’t think anyone will be without a seat if I stay here.”

“Suit yourself.” I start to walk away from Max’s creepy ex-wife.

“I wanted to talk to you,” she says.

I stop, draw in a breath, and turn to look at her. “About what?”

She shrugs, that annoying, all-knowing smile on her face. “About Max.”

So, the rumor hadn’t reached Alex, but it has made its way to Tess. Via Isabel? Or maybe Michael? I can’t imagine Max told her.

“What about Max?” I try to keep the defensiveness out of my voice.

“About his responsibilities.”

I sigh. “Maybe you should talk to Max about that.”

“I’ve tried. But he’s not listening.” She studies me for a long moment and I hate her more than I ever did. “I think he’s not listening because of you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She looks around to see where the closest patron is, then leans conspiratorially across the bar. “I know you think that Max has feelings for you, but he can’t possibly.”

I cross my arms over my chest. I know it looks defensive, but I can’t help myself. “What would you know about it?”

She shakes her head, blond curls bobbing. “He’s not who you think he is. He’s not human, Maria. He never will be. He had another life. He has responsibilities from that other life. And one day, whether it be tomorrow or five years from now, he will follow the path that was intended for him.” She pauses, possibly for dramatic effect. “And that path won’t include you.”

tbc

Now now, everyone take a number so that everyone gets their turn bashing Tess Thanks for reading and leaving comments, everyone

Lana, what happened to your foot?

In this installment, Max gives Maria something she's never had before hee hee *snort* hee hee


Part Fourteen

There is nothing attractive about sobbing. Your eyes swell up and turn all red, your nose runs – which inevitably leads to sniffling – and let’s not forget the sound of the sob itself. There is no way to make that sound dignified, or that you can mask it for anything other than what it is. Part gasp, part cry, part blubber. Yep, nothing nice about it at all.

But that’s what I’m doing anyway. I’m sitting on my bed, my knees drawn up to my chin, arms crossed over my knees – sobbing. I hate this place I’m in right now. A week ago, in the desert with Max’s arm around me, I thought I knew all of the answers. He felt so right, so good at that moment that I fully believed I understood everything. We were going to be together and everything was going to be all right.

Then the guilt came. Then the doubt.

If Alex is right and Max and Liz were never true soul mates, then I should be in the clear to give my heart to him. But if Alex is wrong, then I have nothing but heartache in my future. How can Max ever give himself to me if he is truly destined to be with Liz? I’m not sure you can just ignore someone The Powers That Be have designated as the one who matches your soul. If that’s the case, then one day Max will break my heart and follow his straight back to Liz Parker.

And speaking of destiny, what if Tess is right? What if one day Max decides to take the responsibilities that were handed to him and pursue returning home? Where does that leave me? I’m not an alien. I probably couldn’t survive on whatever planet the pod squad comes from. Is there just another heartache waiting for me there as well?

That is why I’m sobbing. I can’t deal with this anymore. I can’t deal with Michael being suspended and Liz not knowing the truth and Max being wonderful. I wish I had an aunt who lived three thousand miles away so that I could escape just like Liz did. Only I’d never come back.

“Maria, the door was wide open and…”

That’s Max’s voice at my bedroom door. I can’t look at him. All I can do is sob.

“Are you okay?” His voice is tender, still far away and I know he’s hovering in the doorway. If I could see him, I know I’d see that his hands are in his pockets and he’s looking uncomfortable.

Against my arms, I shake my head.

I feel the mattress give a little under his weight and then I feel his hand on my back. His touch immediately sends tremors through me, and I hate that, too.

“Hey,” he says gently. “What happened?”

I don’t answer. I don’t want to talk to him. I want him to be an ass like Michael Guerin so that I can walk away and feel no remorse.

“Sweetheart,” he says, his voice close to my ear.

That only makes me sob harder – it’s the first term of endearment he has ever offered in my direction and it rips me to the core. I rise up quickly, wiping viciously at my tears. He looks curious.

“I can’t do this,” I tell him.

“You can’t do what?”

“This,” I answer ambiguously. “I can’t be with you knowing Liz is going to get hurt, that Michael hates both of us, that you’ll leave one day, that Liz is your soul mate...”

His eyebrows rise in surprise. “I’m leaving? Where am I going?”

I smack him on the shoulder. “Don’t make fun of me, Max,” I say through my tears. “For once I need you to be serious, don’t make jokes.”

He gives a little shrug. “Okay, but wasn’t joking. Who said I’m going somewhere?”

“Tess.”

His dark eyes cloud over in a heartbeat. “Maria, just because Tess has told you something doesn’t mean it’s true. If I were going somewhere, wouldn’t I have told you first?”

“Would you?” I counter. “She said that you had to follow the path that was given to you and that that path didn’t include me.”

I can’t control the new wave of tears that spill from my eyes and I’m sobbing again. Run for the door, Max. Get out of here while you can, while I can still let you.

But he doesn’t run. Instead, he reaches out and puts his arms around me. I resist the urge to return his embrace, so I sit there wadded up into this little ball, weeping into my arms.

“Maria, you know how Tess is,” he says, his words slow, his tone comforting. “She can’t stand to see that I’m attracted to someone other than her. She was a big reason Liz left, I think. Tess managed to drive her away. Please don’t let her drive you away, too. I couldn’t bear that, Maria.”

I sit up again, wiping at my eyes. Max smiles at me and reaches to the nightstand to retrieve a Kleenex. He gently wipes away my tears and what I imagine is probably a nice mess of smudged makeup. Then he gets another tissue and hands it to me so I can wipe my nose. Yep, real attractive.

“But what about the other stuff?” I ask him, choking back the remainder of my tears.

He thinks for a moment, then gives a little shake of his head. “We can’t control how Michael feels about us. If he hates us, then that’s his problem to deal with. As for Liz, I think she has her own path to follow, Maria. It’s unfortunate that the circumstances are the way they are, but we’ll just have to deal with them.”

I look hard into his eyes. He seems like he is being honest, so I hope that his reply to my next question will be equally as honest. “What about the fact that she’s your soul mate?”

He never breaks my gaze and I don’t see the slightest betrayal of his emotions there. Reaching down, he picks up my hand in his. “If Liz were really my soul mate, then I couldn’t feel for you the way I do.”

I throw my arms around him and hold him tightly, wanting nothing more in the world than for that to be true. Against my body, he feels warm, alive, real. His scent drifts to my nose and I feel all of my senses shift into overdrive. I pull back enough so that I can seek his lips with mine and then we’re tumbling together on my bed, oblivious to the fact that my mom could come home at any moment, that my bedroom door is wide open, that we’re shedding clothing like we’ve just entered a sauna.

Everything passes in a blur – Max’s hands pulling my shirt over my head, my hands doing the same with his shirt. I feel his lips on my lips, my throat, my collarbone, on the skin over my pounding heart. His fingers are fumbling with the button on my jeans as his lips return to mine, and I wish just once I could have absolute proof of how much he cares about me, so that I could forever stamp out this nagging doubt.

I no sooner have that thought then something bizarre happens. There’s a snap of electricity in the air and I almost feel like my ears pop. I want to sit up, but my head spins and I fall back against the bed again. I can’t see! I can no longer make out anything in my bedroom. The sound of Max’s ragged breathing is gone and I realize I can’t hear anything, either!

I’m about to scream in terror when my vision clears, but it’s not my room I see. Instead, I see bits and clips of images – two children on a dark highway walking hand in hand, a little blond girl changing her Barbie’s hair color with the wave of her hand, a poor-looking little boy poking at an ant hill with a stick.

Then I see Max as I know him now, walking the hallway at school. But it’s not just visuals that I see – I feel everything he is feeling. Angst over not being able to approach Liz Parker, hurt over losing her, repulsion over knowing he’s supposed to be with Tess.

And then me. I see Max standing helplessly at the bus station, thinking I look like a lost puppy, his heart breaking because I’m so upset. I see us on the road. I see nightmares, I feel my arms around him and I feel the first time he feels anything for me –

Tell me that we belong together
Dress it up with the trappings of love
I’ll be captivated
I’ll hang from your lips
Instead of the gallows of heartache that hang from above

I'll Be your cryin' shoulder
I'll Be love suicide
I'll Be better when I'm older
I'll Be the greatest fan of your life

I feel like I’m being sucked through a vacuum, and suddenly I’m back in my room, looking partially at the ceiling, partially at Max’s worried face. He’s cradling my head between his hands, his eyes desperate.

“Maria!” he breathes.

I’m shaking now not out of sexual arousal but pure terror. I can’t help it – I begin to cry again. “What happened to me?” I sob. “What did you do to me?”

He looks stung. I feel immediately guilty for accusing him of harming me. “Nothing,” he says, shaking his head. “Tell me what happened.”

I sniffle, gasp in a breath. “I saw…things.”

He falls completely motionless, his expression stunned. “Things?” he questions. “What kind of things?”

I wave my hand in the air. “Just images.”

“Of what?” He still looks spooked.

“A Barbie doll.”

“A Barbie doll?”

I nod my head.

“What else?”

I think back on it, pushing my fear out of the way, trying to remember. “I saw a boy with a stick. A girl and a different boy walking down a road.”

He withdraws a bit, his mouth slowly dropping open. “What else?” He looks petrified.

I sit up on my elbows. Hey – where did my shirt go? “I saw…” I rake my memory. “You.”

He sits back on his heels. Hey – where did his shirt go and when did his pants become unbuttoned? “Maria,” he says cautiously.

“Yeah?” I answer, the shaking in my limbs becoming more severe.

“I think you just had a flash.”

tbc

~~~~~~~
Lyrics from "I'll Be" by Edwin McCain (again )

Part Fifteen

“Here. I made some tea.”

Max sets the cup down in front of me. We’ve moved to the kitchen. I’m sitting with my knees drawn up, my heels on the edge of the chair and my arms wrapped around my legs. This sort of fetal position has become rather common for me of late.

He slips into a chair opposite from me and folds his hands together far in front of him. “Maria,” he begins, his voice uncertain. “I’m sorry if that frightened you.”

I look up at him – he looks like he’s got the weight of the world on his shoulders right now.

“I didn’t know it was going to happen,” he explains somewhat sheepishly.

“What did you see?” That has been the nagging question since the whole flash incident an hour ago.

He shakes his head in denial. “Nothing.”

Do I believe him? How can I? How can I possibly believe that he saw nothing when I saw and felt so much?

“How can that be?” I ask.

He gives a little shrug. “You didn’t let me.”

I stop short. What does he mean by that?

He must read my expression because he draws in a patient breath and prepares to explain. “You saw things from inside me because I let you, Maria. I trust you. And part of trusting you is opening my mind to you.”

And that obviously implies I don’t trust him…

The silence weighs heavily between us. We sit for the longest time, just looking at each other without speaking. Finally, he loses the staring contest and sits back in his chair.

“I know what you’re thinking, and it doesn’t mean anything,” he says casually. “You just aren’t ready. When you are, you’ll open up to me.” He gives me a little smile. “And I can wait for you, Maria. I’m a patient guy.”

I can’t help but smile back at him. He’s such a sweetheart. Astounding that Liz didn’t stand and fight for him. I flash back on Tess issuing her threat and frown – maybe I understand why Liz gave up after all…

I feel Max’s hand, warm, over mine and I look up at him.

“You think too much,” he says and my eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Shouldn’t I be saying that to him? “Can’t you just enjoy what we have? Can’t you look past all of the other crap that’s going on?”

I see nothing but sincerity and a need to be loved in his eyes. “I can try,” I tell him quietly, hoping I have the strength he gives me credit for.

It seems to satisfy him as a smile curves his lips. The back door flies open and my mother walks in, home from her night on the town. Max withdraws slowly, pulling his hand back to his side of the table.

I sigh. “Mom, you know Max.”

Her eyes shift to my visitor. “Yes, I know Max. Hello, Max. I also know it’s after midnight, Maria.”

I hold up both of my hands, palm up. “What? We’re in the kitchen having tea, Mom. It’s not like we’re both half naked in my bedroom.”

I give Max credit – he doesn’t even flinch in surprise at my words, which would have been a lie an hour ago.

My mother cocks her head and looks like she’s about to reprimand me, but maybe she finds her manners in light of present company. Or maybe it’s just not worth it to her this time.

“Don’t stay up too late,” she says as she moves for the hallway. “Good to see you, Max.”

Max watches her leave and then shakes his head at me. But he’s smiling. “Don’t do that to me,” he laughs.

I smile back and shrug. “I couldn’t resist.”

********

So life goes on.

Michael returns to the Crashdown, some of his attitude checked at the door. I wouldn’t say he’s nice to me, but at least he’s civil. Maybe he sat in his apartment for a week and thought about a few things. Maybe this is just what he needed.

The Parkers return from Florida. Mr. Parker gives me a wink and a pat on the arm to reassure me that my secret is safe still.

Max and I continue our mating ritual, dancing around one another, only delaying the inevitable. He has shut himself off to me, plugging the hole that lets me into this mind. I feel kind of bad about that, like maybe I’m asking him to do something he doesn’t want to. But I’m not ready to share my soul with him, so I shouldn’t ask that he share his with me.

But I do like the chase. I like thinking that maybe tonight will be the night we consummate, then having that thought yanked away when one of us stops. It feels so disappointing at the time, but then the next time the situation arises, the anticipation is unbearable. I’m almost afraid we’ve set ourselves up for failure – are we building this event into something bigger and better than it will actually be?

As I sit astride him in the back of the jeep, I can’t imagine that will be the case. I want him so badly that I ache – everywhere – so I give a little cry when he breathlessly pulls away.

“Turn around,” he gasps.

“What?” I shake my head, trying to think straight.

“Just turn around,” he begs.

So I comply, swinging my leg over so that I’m sitting on his lap, facing the front of the jeep. He spreads his legs and I fall between them, onto the seat. I look over my shoulder in confusion, but then I feel my skirt being hoisted upwards.

“Trust me,” he whispers against my ear.

I nod, breathless, as I feel his fingers at the top of my panties. His other arm snakes over my shoulder and his hand slips inside of my tank top. No room for a bra in there, so his hand encounters my skin immediately and I give a gasp. I arch my back, urging myself firmly into his palm. God, if he turns away this time…

But instead of eminent rejection, I feel his hand slide inside of my panties and my stomach does a flip flop.

“Is this okay?” he breathes against my ear.

I nod again, unable to speak, as I have closed my eyes and am savoring the feel of his hands all over me. He slides his hand down farther and I spread my legs a little wider, giving him easier access.

As soon as he touches me, I feel an uncontrollable fire flare up inside of me. The world ceases to exist and the only things that are real are the motions of his fingers touching me where no one has touched me before, his hand delicately but firmly grasping my breast and the ever-increasing beat of my heart. I arch back farther, wrapping my arm around his neck and moving with his motions.

Suddenly I feel a bizarre tingling in my midsection. It holds there for just a second, then it seems to explode, radiating the same pleasure/pain jolt out to my fingers and toes. I can’t help it – I let out a gasp of surprise and euphoria.

All of my muscles feel weak as I fall back against him, my heart slowing and my breathing leveling out. He kisses the side of my head, but leaves his hands where they were.

“You’re okay,” he whispers softly against my ear.

I nod my head, dazed and oddly tranquil. I stare up at the ragtop of the jeep for what seems like an eternity, then I draw in a shaky breath. “That was some flash…” I sigh, glad for once that he slipped up and let me have one.

Max stops kissing my neck. I crane my neck to look at him and he’s smiling.

“What?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “That wasn’t a flash, Maria.”

I raise my eyebrows. “It wasn’t? Then what…” I read his expression and I feel my cheeks turn a bright red. “Oh.”

“You’ve never…?” he questions cautiously.

Yes, I can be a deeper shade of red. I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”

“That was your first…?”

And yet another shade of red, folks! “I think so.” Which actually makes me happy, because that means I can have more of them in the future.

Max is smirking. A self-satisfied, very pleased-with-himself smirk. He’s proud of himself! I turn back around, putting my arms around his shoulders and pulling him close to me.

“Thank you,” I say over his shoulder.

He kind of laughs. “You’re welcome.”

I hold him for a long time, then pull back to kiss him for another eternity. Then I frown.

He traces my face with his fingers. “What’s wrong?”

“I have to go to work,” I sigh. Like I want this evening to end.

But he smiles. “Okay. We can continue this later.”

We climb into the front seats and I go about rearranging my clothing, trying to make it look like I haven’t been doing what I was just doing. Max backs out of our parking spot at the quarry and heads into town.

As I watch him, I can’t help but smile. He’s brought out something in me that no one else ever has. He’s made my body react in a new, beautiful way. I only hope that he’ll let me return the favor some day.

We pull to a stop in the alley behind the Crashdown and he immediately reaches for me again.

“Max,” I protest half-heartedly. “I’m already late.”

He pulls away reluctantly, opens my door for me, then leads me to the back door of the restaurant. When we enter, I notice something out of place – a bag by the sofa – but he sweeps me into his arms before I can investigate it any farther.

“Max, there’s a –“ My word are cut off as he kisses me. I come up briefly. “There’s a bag over there –“ And I’m under his kiss again.

I try to squirm away, but I’m too late. From the stairs, I hear an all-too-familiar voice.

“Oh.”

Max immediately pulls away and his expression resembles a deer in the headlights. My whole being sinks to the pit of my stomach and I muse on how one minute I can feel lighter than air and then in the next feel like I want to die.

Max and I both turn our heads slowly to the sound of the voice…

…and find Liz Parker standing on the bottom step.

tbc

Part Sixteen

I can’t even speak. Max’s body immediately tenses up and I feel him start to tremble. A thought that crossed my mind as a positive thing not too long ago crosses it as a rather negative one this time – the body doesn’t lie.

Max slowly slides away from me and I feel abandoned. At least he didn’t push me away.

Liz clears her throat and pushes some of her hair behind her ear. “I wanted to surprise you,” she says to me, avoiding looking at Max. “I guess it worked.”

I swallow hard. “Liz, I didn’t mean for you to find out this way.”

“You didn’t mean for me to find out this way or you didn’t mean for me to find out at all, Maria?” she asks and I can see the anger and disappointment flaring in her eyes.

I look at the floor, damning myself for not making the phone call earlier.

“When did you get back?” Max stammers stupidly beside me.

There’s a pause while Liz works up her courage to address him. “This morning. I knew Maria started her shift at six and I wanted to be down here to surprise her.” Her eyes shift back to me and she gives a dead, “Surprise.”

God, I want out of here. I want to run for the door and never come back.

“Maria, you’re already late,” I hear Mr. Parker’s voice from the kitchen door. “You better get changed.”

I glance at the clock – it’s quarter after six. I imagine Liz sitting on the top step, waiting anxiously for me to get there so she can have what she believes will be a joyous reunion. Then I imagine how it must have felt to see me and Max climbing on one another.

I look down at my clothes, then at Max, who looks like someone hit his puppy. “I’ll talk to you later,” I tell him, mentally urging him to run for the door.

When he doesn’t, my heart sinks clear to my toes. I look over at Liz.

“Can we talk after I get off?” I offer, hoping that I can use the next four hours to come up with some explanation for myself.

She swallows visibly and nods her head. “I’ll be upstairs.”

I turn and walk away, grab my uniform from my locker and close the bathroom door behind me. Then I sit down on the toilet lid and sob. I sob because I’ve hurt Liz. And I sob because Max looked like he couldn’t tear himself away from the sight of her.

*********

People suck. The man who complains his coffee is cold sucks. The jackass who doesn’t leave me a tip after running my ass off sucks. The annoying ex-friends of Kyle who come in and make comments about my ass suck.

Max sucks.

I suck.

The whole situation sucks. Not long ago, I was basking in my first ever sexual release and now I’m wishing I could just take it back. I feel cheap, like I moved in on my best friend’s boyfriend.

But he wasn’t her boyfriend. She gave him back, threw him back into the pond for the rest of us to fish for. I keep telling myself that, but then I go back to how I would feel if the whole situation was reversed. Seeing Liz with Michael would suck. Even if I don’t care who he’s with. It would still suck.

Basically, life sucks.

And what sucks the most at the moment is the fact that the princess has just slid onto a stool at the counter, the exact stool Tess squatted on to torment me. I’ve quite had enough of the Evanses for one night. But she’s a customer and technically I have to wait on her.

I pull my pad from my apron and walk unenthusiastically over to her. “What’ll it be, Isabel?” If she says nothing, that she only came to talk, I’m going to smack her into next Tuesday.

“Coffee,” she responds, her tone pleasant for some reason. Ugh, God. Is she going to try to be nice to me now? “And how about a chili rocket dog?”

A chili rocket dog? She puts that kind of garbage in that body? Whatever. I scribble it on the pad and take it back to the window, clip the order on the carousel for the cook. Then I grab the coffee pot and return to fill her cup.

She turns the cup over on its saucer for me. My, aren’t we helpful tonight? I leave enough room in the cup so she can load it down with sugar – all of the aliens do. I start to walk away, but she stops me. Great. Here we go.

“I wanted to talk to you,” she says, her expression uncertain.

Yep, I’m gonna hit her. But, she did order food, so maybe I’ll just knock her into Monday instead of Tuesday.

“About what?” I ask her. I feel really tired. I can’t deal with this any more.

“I wanted to thank you.”

I raise my eyebrows. Okay, so she has my interest. “Thank me for what?”

“For helping Max.”

Eh?

Her eyes dart away once, and I think it might be an action of embarrassment. “I didn’t know about the nightmares.”

She looks stricken and I feel a tug of empathy for her. I set the coffee pot down and give her my full attention.

“He didn’t tell me,” she admits. “Max just keeps everything bottled inside, you know? It’s hard to get him to talk.”

I know all about that. He only told me about the nightmares once I’d seen him in the throes of one of them.

“I would have helped him,” she says, looking down at her hands in shame. “I should have helped him. I should have been more in tune with what was going on with him, but I wasn’t.”

I don’t know what to say, so I say nothing.

She looks back up and I can see the regret in her eyes. “After we got the communication, we were all so anxious to find out more, to get back to where we came from, that none of use realized what he was going through. But you saw that and I know you were there for him.” She gives me a cautious smile. “You’re good for Max, Maria. He’s very happy these days.”

I’m willing to bet he was very happy up until about an hour ago. I swallow. “Liz is home,” I reveal.
“Oh.” She’s silent for a moment, then says something I never expected in a million years. “If you need someone to talk to, call me.”

I stare at her in disbelief, then I hear the ring of the kitchen bell behind me. “Order up!” the cook calls.

“That’s your hotdog,” I say, still stunned at the invitation.

She nods, tries to smile again. “Okay. I mean it, Maria. If you need anything…”

I nod in thanks and turn to retrieve her food. I’m living in a crazy world. Or maybe I’ve just gone crazy.

**********

I find Liz in her room, unpacking her suitcase and putting her clothes into her dresser. Her hair has really grown since she’s been gone and her skin is a deep golden color. Lots of hours on the beach, I assume.

“Hi, Liz,” I say tentatively from the doorway. In days past, I would have just run in and jumped on her bed, but not now.

She looks up from the suitcase and pushes her hair away from her face. “Maria. Come in.”

I step just inside the door and hover there. “Your hair looks good,” I compliment, trying to fill the silent void.

“Thanks,” she says, pushing it away from her face again. She closes the empty suitcase and shoves it beneath her bed. Then she sits and regards me steadily. “How long?”

Well, we’ve cut straight to the chase, haven’t we? I don’t know why that should surprise me – beating around the bush never gets you anywhere.

“Couple of weeks,” I reply. Then I think back on it and realize I’ve just lied to her unintentionally. “A month, maybe.”

“A month,” she repeats, crossing her legs and looking at me like a disappointed grade school teacher. “You couldn’t find the opportunity some time within that month to tell me about it?”

I gulp. God, this is so hard. “I wanted to,” I confess, folding my hands in front of me to keep them from trembling. “I wanted to many times.”

She bites the corner of her mouth and nods her head. “I’m sure. Do you have any idea what it was like to walk down those steps and see you with Max?”

I look down at her hardwood floor, ashamed. “I can imagine.”

“No, Maria, I don’t think you can.” She gets to her feet, her small body bent in a poise of confrontation. “If you could imagine it, you would have prevented it from happening.” She pauses, then tags on, “Any of it.”

I look up at her and shake my head. “I didn’t plan on things happening with Max, Liz. They just did. We were both devastated, sitting at ground zero, and we were there for one another.”

She looks no less pissed. “Define ‘there for one another’, Maria.”

I can’t do this. I was afraid she’d be hurt but all she’s being is a bitch. I hadn’t planned on unloading on her, but here I go. “You want a definition of being there for someone, Liz? Being there for someone means that you don’t turn and run away from them when they are beaten and tortured and fragile. Being there for someone you love means that you don’t turn around and run when you should be fighting for what you believe in.”

“Max has another destiny,” she states, her jaw set in anger.

I wave a hand in the air. “Why do you believe in that crap? Destiny and soul mates and whatever mumbo jumbo you cling to? There is no such thing as a set destiny or a freakin’ soul mate for that matter, Liz. Maybe if you had stuck around long enough, you’d’ve found that out. Max hasn’t even given Tess a second glance.”

“Because he was looking at you instead?” she snaps.

“It could have been you,” I state bluntly. “Let me remind you that you said goodbye to him. You ran, Liz, not Max. You are the one who gave up. You are the one to blame.”

The room falls deathly silent and all I can hear is the deep rasp of my breath. I hadn’t even realized that I’d been shouting, but the sudden stillness makes it all too clear. Liz is staring at me in disbelief. I’m not sure what she doesn’t believe – that I can be such a cold bitch, or that everything I’ve just said is probably true.

Mrs. Parker appears at the door, her eyes round. “Everything okay?” she asks cautiously.

I give Liz one last look then turn to her mother. “I was just leaving,” I say.

Then I turn my back on both of them and walk out of their home, out of their restaurant. The night air is uncharacteristically cold and I shiver. My gaze shifts upward and I see a shooting star zip across the sky, on its way to crash and burn somewhere.

tbc

Part Seventeen

I love this time of morning, when the rest of the world is still sleeping, or just rising, and there is just the faintest trace of the evening dew left. If there is any dew – depends on the whim of the desert. But last night was chilly and I can still see the subtle hints that once the grass of the park was covered with a fine white mist.

Behind me, the fountain bubbles happily, unaware of the discord around it. I haven’t slept. When I got home, I was too pissed off after my conversation with Liz to even think about sleeping. Then I started thinking about Max and all bets were off…

I look up to the trees as the wind plays with their leaves. The change is coming already, I can feel it. Just a month ago the air was hot and stagnant, but now I can feel autumn approaching, like some big weather god has shifted gears.

Autumn means school. Classes will start in a few weeks and then there will be no avoiding Michael, or Liz, or Max. On second thought, Liz and Max I could never see if I tried hard enough – they’re in all of the accelerated classes and I’m more the remedial type. Me and Kyle Valenti – the underachievers of West Roswell High. Michael never comes to school, so avoiding him shouldn’t be a chore, either. I just contradicted myself – I can avoid all of them at school if I want to.

I’m thinking of quitting my job. It was bad enough with Michael being there all pissed off at the world, but now there is the Parker factor to deal with as well. Liz and I have never fought to this extent. We’ve bickered, sure, but we’ve never hurt each other like we did last night. I don’t regret a word I said – I only regret that I didn’t find a nicer way to say it.

I don’t need that job. I worked there for some extra money to buy clothes or CDs or whatever, and because Liz was my friend and it was something fun to do together. I can get another job, maybe working for my mom – although that might send me straight to the looney bin. I don’t think working with Liz can be considered “fun” any more.

I’m also thinking about setting Max free. It’s one of the toughest decisions I’ve ever had to consider. I really think I love him – what’s not to love? But I saw the way he looked at Liz and I can’t be sure he’s totally mine. It’s going to hurt if I break it off with him now, but it’s going to hurt a lot more in the future. Maybe I should just pack up the remnants of my heart and lock my virginity away for someone else.

“There you are. I thought I’d find you here.”

I look up and shield my eyes against the rising sun to see Max approaching me, smiling. His tone is cheerful.

“You didn’t show up for coffee,” he says as he sits down on the bench beside me.

We’ve developed a ritual over the last month where we’d get up earlier than anyone and be at the bagel shop for breakfast. I can’t say as my body missed the carbs this morning.

“Sorry,” I say, not really feeling sorry that I wasn’t there. I just couldn’t face Max this morning.

“What’s going on? Everything okay?”

I nod my head. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

Might as well jump to the chase. “What happened after I went to work last night?” I ask.

He looks confused. “What do you mean?”

“I saw the way you looked at her, Max.”

He withdraws a bit, his happy demeanor falling away. “She just startled me is all, Maria. I hadn’t seen her in two months and then all of a sudden there she was. I wasn’t sure how to react.”

He reacted by trembling like a nervous Chihuahua – I know because I felt it. “What did you two talk about?”

He shrugs. “Nothing. I told her she looks good and welcomed her back. She did the same. Then I left.”

“That’s it?”

He nods once. “Yes, that’s it.”

I bite my lip. “Do you still love her?”

He shifts his seat a bit. “Maria, a piece of me will always love Liz –“

I hold up a hand, cutting him off. “Are you still in love with her?”

He’s silent for a moment, his gaze steady on mine. “No.”

I see nothing but honesty in his eyes. He really believes he no longer loves Liz. Whether he’s fooling himself or not remains to be seen, but for now he really believes his feelings for her are history.

“I’m quitting the Crashdown,” I announce.

Max’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “What? Why?”

I draw in a breath and look down at my hands, folded between my knees. “Liz and I had a big fight last night, Max.” I meet his eyes – he deserves honesty. “About you.”

“Oh, Maria. I’m so sorry –“

I hold up a hand, cutting him off again. “Not your fault. But I realized last night that I can’t work there anymore.”

“Don’t you want to give it some time?”

Is he asking me this because without my being there he won’t have an excuse to go see Liz? I kick myself mentally for having that thought. “No. I just need to not be there anymore, okay? Please don’t try to talk me out of it.”

He nods gently. “Okay.” He scratches his head. “Maybe Milton could use some help at the UFO Center…”

I look across the park, at a jogger who has risen just as early as we have. “There’s something else, Max.”

He watches me silently.

“I need a break. From us.”

Max draws in a quick breath and his mouth drops open. “Oh, Maria, no!”

I hold up a hand for the third time. “Don’t try to talk me out of this either, Max. I need time to think. We’ve never taken the time to think. We just jumped into this thing without thought. We moved straight from Michael and Liz into this…whatever it is we have.”

I see so much devastation in his eyes – more than I thought possible.

“I’m not saying I don’t ever want to see you again,” I tell him. “I just need to clear my head, without distractions.” I think back to his fingers, working their magic, and I barely manage not to shiver. “And you’re a major distraction, Max.”

“Maria…” His voice is barely there, a gasped whisper. “Please.”

“It will be good for us,” I tell him, trying to keep my resolve in place, despite the anguish I now see on his beautiful face.

“Don’t leave me,” he says softly.

But I do. I stand up and he reaches for my hand. I let him hold it for the smallest of seconds, then I gently pull it away. I turn quickly before the tears can sting my eyes and start to walk briskly toward the Jetta. I look back once and immediately wish I hadn’t. He’s staring at the ground between his feet and I see his shoulders give a sudden heave. He’s crying.

I feel the first burn of tears in my eyes and I start running, running away from Max Evans.

Just like Liz Parker did.

*****

Mr. Parker accepts my resignation with an understanding nod of his head. There are a lot of words on his behalf – sorry to see you go, the door’s always open if you want to come back, etc. I don’t say much of anything. I don’t even really explain my reasons – I’m sure he understands what they are.

I stand before my locker, cleaning it out and stuffing my belongings into a milk crate I found abandoned in the alley. Hairspray, brush, a notebook left over from last school year. I come across one of those Crashdown antenna/headpieces and toss it on top of the lockers – someone might need it someday.

“You’re leaving.”

It’s a statement, not a question, and comes from behind me. Liz’s voice, uncertain.

“Yeah,” I answer, struggling to reach a piece of paper at the back of the locker. Once I nab it, I turn it around and see that it’s not a piece of paper – it’s a picture of me and Liz, taken during that awful Get to Know Your Father camping outing. I snort at the happy image and drop it into the crate.

“You don’t have to,” Liz says tentatively.

I turn to look at her and sigh. She looks a little sheepish. “I do, Liz.”

“Will you come back someday?” She looks like she wants to feel hopeful, but that it’s probably a fantasy. “I mean, I can’t run this place by myself, you know.” She’s trying to make joke, to get me to play with her as a truce, but I just don’t have it in me right now.

I shrug. “I dunno.”

“What are you going to do for a job?”

I shrug again. I don’t know that, either. I bend over and pick up the milk crate. I just want out of here.

“I don’t want you to leave on my account,” she says, walking towards me.

“I’m not doing this for you, Liz,” I tell her. “I’m doing this for me.”

Then I walk past her, toward the back door. Before I exit, I see Michael peer around the kitchen door and I almost feel a stab of sympathy for him. He looks sort of lost, almost like he’s upset about something. I wonder if his way of “loving” me was keeping me near so that he could still be with me without really being with me, and now that convenience is gone.

It’s been a hard day. I’ve broken up with Max and quit my job. On top of it, Michael is finally looking pitifully remorseful.

I’m proud of myself that I make it all of the way to the Jetta before I start to sob again.

tbc

Dee, wtf? I checked my hard drive and I wrote that 03/2001. When did you write yours? If you say it was around the same time, I'm going to freak


Part Eighteen

Alex Whitman is a bottomless pit. I decide this while I watch him pay the pizza delivery man. He’s ordered the largest pie available – and he’s the only one home.

“Want some?” he asks as he closes the door behind the pizza guy.

I shake my head. It’s hard to have an appetite when you feel like you are going to chuck.

He looks worried. “Mind if I eat?”

I shake my head again. I would never stand between Alex and his growling stomach – that’s just asking for trouble.

He puts the pizza box down on the kitchen table and motions for me to sit while he gets a plate from the cupboard. It’s a paper plate. I blink at his choice of China, but then I realize he’s a guy – he can just pitch that plate when he’s done instead of having to wash a real one. I’m willing to bet if I weren’t here, he would’ve just eaten straight from the box. I smile in spite of my agony – I really do love Alex.

Sitting at the table, he pops open the box and the smell of tomato sauce and grease wafts up. I fight back the urge to gag. Alex, however, leans over the box with an obscene grin on his face, like a witch staring into her cauldron. He pulls two pieces out at once and plops them on the plate, the cheese making a stretchy, droopy bridge between plate and box.

“So, what’s going on?” he asks, blowing on the first piece.

I sigh and shrug with one shoulder.

He chews the first bite and swallows it before speaking. Mrs. Whitman taught her only son good manners. “Well, it’s gotta be something because you look like you just found out that there is no Santa Claus.”

I frown. I have no idea where to start.

“Max Evans-related?” he baits, trying to help out.

I nod my head, fight back the tears that want to spill onto my cheeks.

“What did he do?” He’s so calm, so easy to talk to – everyone needs an Alex in their life.

“He didn’t do anything,” I say, sighing again.

“Then why are you upset?”

While he munches his dinner, I fill him in on the whole situation with Liz coming home – which he knew, at least the part about her being back in Roswell, not so much about finding me and Max sucking face in the Crashdown. I tell him about mine and Liz’s argument, to which he raises a surprised eyebrow; I can’t get over how much he looks like Tom Hanks when he does that. I wonder if anyone has ever pointed that out to him…

Then I tell him about quitting my job and giving Max the boot. At that, he stops eating entirely and I congratulate myself on finding the one thing that will suppress his appetite – at least momentarily. The whole time I talked, he had been giving me the little yes-I’m-listening-to-you grunts. But now he’s stunned into silence.

I wait for some kind of response, and when I get it, it’s not the one I expected. He swallows his mouthful of pizza, wipes his hands on a paper napkin, then leans across the table toward me.

“Are you crazy?” he asks.

I withdraw a bit. “I don’t think so.”

“I think you are,” he accuses. “Max was never anything but wonderful to you and you let him go?”

I frown, not getting the sympathetic shoulder to cry on that I expected. “Well, I had to…”

“And why was that again?”

“Because of Liz –“

“Screw Liz.”

Now it’s my turn to look surprised. Those are two words that I never expected to come out of Alex’s mouth.

“Liz is out of the equation now, Maria,” he explains. “This isn’t a three-way relationship. It was between you and Max. Period.”

I squirm a bit in my chair. “Yeah, but Max is Liz’s ex-boyfriend –“

“So?” He holds his hands out, palm up. “She broke up with him. Ex is the part you seem to have forgotten.”

“But, Alex,” I say, trying to plead my case. “If I saw her with Michael at some point, especially while I was still on the rebound, I can’t tell you how much that would hurt me.”

“Would it make you want Michael back?” he challenges.

I think about it for a few seconds, then shake my head. “No.”

“Would you want Liz to be happy?”

Of course I want Liz to be happy. That’s why I’ve been beating myself up for fooling around with Max. “Yes,” I answer.

“Don’t you think Liz would want the same thing for you?”

“I don’t know, Alex. You weren’t there for that argument.”

He gives a little nod of his head. “You’re right, I wasn’t. But at any time did she go off on how she came back from Florida to get Max back?”

I look down at the table top and shake my head.

“What did she say?” he asks rhetorically. “From what you told me, she was upset that you didn’t tell her. She was kind of caught off-guard. She probably felt stupid and yeah, maybe a little hurt. Maybe she wasn’t ready to face Max yet, and I’m sure she didn’t think he’d be there with you when you came to work. Can you really judge her so harshly?”

Alex is right. Maybe I have been a heartless bitch. Maybe I have been so busy anticipating the worst that I’m assuming the worst of everyone’s actions. I feel a little sting in my eyes. I’m not sure it will amount to anything because I can’t possibly have any tears left.

“Why are you so afraid to be happy, Maria?”

I look up in surprise and see that Alex’s blue eyes have softened. “I’m not,” I counter.

He nods his head. “Yes, you are. Max has been next to perfect. He’s sensitive with you, considerate of your feelings, and he’s never asked anything from you but that you love him back. Sounds like the real deal to me…but you broke up with him?”

I look down at the tabletop again. Alex must’ve been reading a few books on tough love this past week.

“He’s not Michael, Maria,” he says gently. “He’s not your father. Why is it so hard for you to trust him?”

I was wrong – there are plenty of tears left him me. They come in a rush and I have to cover my face with my hands to hide my outburst from Alex. He reads me like a book. Then again, after all of these years, how could he not?

I feel his hand on my back and his gentle kiss on the side of my head.

“I’m so stupid, Alex,” I sob into my hands. “I’ve ruined everything.”

“You’re not stupid, Maria,” he says soothingly. “You’re just scared, like the rest of us. But don’t you think that you could give this a chance? What’s the worst that could happen?”

I babble something about hurting Liz – my stock excuse – but he hushes me.

“Liz will forgive you. I know if I found you with Isabel, I’d forgive you eventually.” He looks off for a moment, grinning, then adds, “Bad example.”

I wipe the back of my hand across my face, clearing the latest batch of tears. “I don’t know what to do, Alex,” I confess.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “You go tell Max you want him back.”

“Oh, Jesus, Alex. He’s going to think I’m a lunatic.”

“I’m willing to bet he already does,” he jokes, then his smile fades away. “Obviously he likes that about you.”

I sniffle and shake my head. I can’t go to him now, not after I hurt him.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Alex repeats.

I meet his gaze and silently put my hand over my heart. It can’t tolerate being broken again.

He smiles gently, a perfect big-brother smile. “Maybe,” he agrees. “But you’ve survived a broken heart before and you can survive one again. But maybe that won’t happen this time. Don’t you want to find out?”

I remain silent. I have a fear of admitting I want to try.

“Come on,” he coaxes. “I’ll drive you.”

He drives with one hand and eats the remainder of his pizza with another. We cross town, over to the Evans house and I can’t believe how horribly nervous I am. I can’t think of what to say. Anything I come up with is going to sound really stupid.

Alex pulls the car to a stop at the curb. “Put in a good word with Isabel for me,” he smiles as he waits for me to get out.

I return his smile and then watch him drive away. I draw in a deep breath and walk up the sidewalk to the house. They really do have a nice home. I stop at the door, my hand shaking as I reach for the doorbell.

In a few seconds, the door flies open and there’s Isabel. She smiles at me, a friendly smile I’m not really used to from her.

“Hi, Isabel,” I say unsteadily. “Max home?”

She shakes her head. “He’s working tonight. Want me to tell him you stopped?”

All of that anxiety for nothing. I shake my head. “No, I’ll just catch up with him later. See you, Isabel.”

I walk away dejectedly. Not only was Max not there for me to grovel to, I’ve also lost my ride home. So I walk slowly, toward town. Halfway home, I realize I’m closer to the UFO Center than I am to my house. The nervous shakes start again and I know in that instant I’m going there to talk to Max.

But what to say? Hey, I’m a psycho bitch who needs a good dose of Prozac? Hey there, let me stomp on your heart and then ask for it back twenty four hours later!

I’m still weighing the possibilities as I pull open the glass entrance door to the museum. I’m immediately greeted with cool air and some crappy space music Milton has dug up. The center is busy tonight, a lot of tourists near the end of the season. I walk the displays, looking for that familiar guy, obsessing over what to say to him.

I find him near the back, stocking souvenirs – fluorescent green cup holders with alien faces stamped on them. I’m about to speak when he turns to look at me, like he knew I was there. I expect something other than what I get – a smile. I guess Max Evans isn’t used to girls returning to him once they run away.

With one step, he reaches me and pulls me into a tight embrace. He squeezes me so hard that I can barely breathe, but I don’t ever want him to stop.

“Sorry,” I say over his shoulder.

He just nods and holds me tighter. And that’s how one makes up with Max – no long discussions, no tearful reunions. Just a willingness to admit you want to be with him.

tbc

Part Nineteen

“Maria, Helen said her order arrived an hour late.”

I stop my stocking of alien-head swizzle sticks and look at my mother over the top of the rack. ‘Helen’ is the old bitty who runs the bakery, the old bitty who read me the riot act before she’d let me leave yesterday.

“I had five other stops to make,” I point out bluntly. “Helen was on the end of the list.”

Mom cocks her head. “Helen likes to have things her way, Maria. If we don’t cater to her, we might lose her as a customer.”

I stare dumbfounded as she walks away, into the back store room. We could lose the old bag as a customer? And where else in Roswell would she buy alien-themed cake decorations? Only my mother is lunatic enough to spend the time to make them for the minimal return profit.

I shake my head and return to stocking. And I thought waitressing was boring. This is so much worse. Take item from box, put item on shelf, reach into box for next item. Ugh! I hate this…

It’s been a week since mine and Max’s break up/make up. Things are pretty much normal, although I sense an air of caution about any move either of us makes. And I guess that’s okay – it means we’re taking things a little slower. We’re comfortable with each other at this point and I’m more than thankful that I have someone like Alex in my life to open my eyes every now and then.

Max and I talked some about what possessed me to dump him so abruptly, then ask to come back to him equally as abruptly. I think he knows that I have trust issues, but that must seem very ironic to him since he of all people should be the one who doesn’t trust anyone. But he does trust me for some reason. He believes that I will never hurt him or betray him. I wonder if he believed that about Liz, too.

We talked a little about her as well. He reassured me that his days with Liz are over and he expressed regret that we weren’t getting along so well. Liz and I have been friends as long as I can remember and he hates to see that has been lost, that the cause may be him.

The bell above the door to my mom’s shop tinkles and I don’t even bother to look up. The people who come in here are kooks – let the mother take care of them.

“Excuse me, do you think you could show me where the laser guns and x-ray vision glasses are?”

I can’t help but crack a smile. I put down my latest handful of swizzle sticks and turn to see Liz standing behind me.

“Well, that depends on what kind of laser gun and x-ray glasses you’re looking for,” I say, putting on the air of the helpful shop worker.

She gives a little shrug. “Well, I need the gun to ward off alien attackers, of course, you know the end is near.”

“I see. And what kind of glasses would you be needing?”

She bites her lip. “I need something so I can see if my best friend will forgive me.”

I can’t keep the little look of surprise off my face. “Glasses aren’t going to help you there,” I say quietly, my playful tone gone.

“No? How am I going to find out then?”

I swallow. “You could try just asking her.”

Liz smiles self-consciously. “How about it, Maria? Can you ever forgive me?”

This is the exact opposite of what I thought would happen when I started dating Max – I thought I would be the one down on my knees, begging for forgiveness from Liz. But here she is, offering up the olive branch. I give in to her gesture and nod my head.

Her smile is a little less self-conscious now, a little more relieved and confident. “I’m so sorry, Maria,” she says, reaching out to give me a hug.

I accept her apology and revel in the feel of having my best friend in my arms again. I give her a little extra squeeze and when I pull away I see that she has tears in her eyes.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” she laughs, handing me a tissue from her purse. I didn’t even realize I’d been doing it, too.

“I’ve missed you so much, Liz,” I tell her as I wipe beneath my eyes. “I wanted to tell you so many times, but I just didn’t know how.”

She nods in agreement. “I know you did, Maria. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. And I am so sorry for all of those things I said to you when I found out. I want you to be happy. I really do.”

I smile at her – I believe she is being sincere. “I’m sorry it had to be Max,” I tell her.

She waves me off with a hand. “I don’t care who it is as long as you’re happy, Maria. And don’t worry about me – I’ll find someone someday.” She says the last with a smile, then shakes her head. “Max and I were never meant to be together.”

I feel my eyes grow round. “How can you say that?”

She shrugs. “There was too much, Maria, too many complications. Every day it was a battle just to stay together. First my finding out the big secret, then Tess showing up, then all of the government stuff. After awhile, our being together was just one big fight for existence.” She looks away, almost as though she’s ashamed. “That’s not what I want out of life, Maria.”

Max was right. Liz isn’t strong enough for this. But she is strong enough to admit it. I reach over and take her hand.

“Do you still have feelings for Max?” I ask cautiously.

“Yes and no,” she replies. “I will always be fond of Max. He saved my life, for God’s sake! How can he not hold a special place in my heart?” She draws in a breath. “But, I don’t think I can ever love him the way he deserves to be loved.” She gives me a devilish grin. “But maybe you can.”

I feel a crimson flush crawl across my face. “Yeah, maybe,” I laugh.

She drops my hand and looks around the shop. “So, do you like working here?”

I shrug. “It’s a job.”

“How do you like working for your mom?”

That, I hate. But admitting I hate it means I would have to admit that leaving the Crashdown was a mistake. “Well, the money sucks and there is the constant lecturing to deal with,” I offer.

Liz gives me a knowing smile. “How about you come back to the Crashdown? Karen is going out to have a baby, so we’ll need the help…”

“Liz, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” I start.

“Maria!” my mother’s voice howls from the back room. “I can’t find the blow up alien dolls you picked up yesterday! Don’t you know how to organize back-stock?”

I give Liz a defeated look. “Can I start tomorrow?”

She laughs as the doorbell chimes again. We both turn to see Max entering. His smile of greeting fades away as he spots Liz and I notice his steps become a little more cautious. He has to be wondering if he just walked into the line of fire.

“Hi,” he says as he approaches.

“Hi,” I say as I lean up to give him a quick kiss. Liz might as well get used to it now because I have no intention of hiding my feelings for Max from the world.

He looks tentatively at her.

“Hi, Max,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear like she always does when she’s feeling uncertain.

He smiles cautiously at her. “Hi, Liz.”

“Liz came to offer me my old job back,” I explain.

Max raises his eyebrows and looks a little surprised. “Oh? Are you going?”

I nod toward the back room. “What do you think?”

He snorts a little laugh, then asks, “Are you ready to go?”

I nod. “Just let me get my purse – and pray I can avoid my mom in the process.” I practically drop into a burglar crouch as I head for the check-out counter. Snaking my hand around the corner, I snag my purse, then run back victoriously. Liz and Max both laugh. “Can we give you a ride home?” I ask Liz as I slip my hand around Max’s waist.

“Oh, that’s not necessary,” she says. “I can walk.”

“Nonsense,” I say, putting my other arm around her shoulders. “It’s ten billion degrees outside.”

She has no choice put to relent because I’ve already started to drag her to the door.

We drive mostly in silence and I muse on how things have changed. Once upon a time, it was me begging the lift and riding in the back seat. Now I’ve got shotgun and Liz is the third wheel. That’s not something I’d ever considered would happen in a million years.

We pull up in front of the Crashdown and Liz squeezes out of the back seat, thanking us for the ride. As we pull away, I give a little wave then watch her disappear in the side-view mirror. Things are different now, but better. I’m not sure they will ever be the way they were before she left for Florida, but at least the fence has been mended. I want to believe that mine and Liz’s friendship is strong enough to weather this storm. I want to believe we will once again share every feeling and experience with one another.

I feel Max’s hand on my thigh and I turn silently to look at him.

“You okay?” he asks.

I nod. “Fine.”

“What was that all about?”

I put my hand over his. “A peace offering.”

He can’t resist the smile that comes to his face. I know our argument has been a weight on his shoulders as well. “That’s great.”

I give him a hopeful smile. “Yeah, I think so. I missed Liz.”

He tightens his hand on my leg. “I know you did, honey.”

Honey. And yet another term of endearment from him. It makes me smile. “Where are we going tonight, anyway?”

He gives me a devilish smile, squinting into the setting sun.

“What’s that for?” I laugh.

“I though maybe we’d do something different,” he offers.

“Like what?”

The grin of the devil is still on his face. “I thought I would cook.”

“Huh?” It comes out as a laughed question.

“I can cook,” he defends. “I’m not as good as Michael is, but I don’t know many people who are.”

“Oh.” I wait a beat for more information and when it doesn’t come, I hold up my free hand, palm-up. “And where are we going to do this?”

“My house.”

Great. Dinner with the Evanses. I can think of worse fates, but those all involve my mother and root canals.

Max draws in a deep breath, looking like he’s about to burst. “Isabel is out with Tess for the night – a concert in Santa Fe or something.”

Okay, so no princess to deal with, not that she’s been hard to handle of late.

He looks at me seriously while he drives. “And my parents flew to New York for the weekend.”

I feel a flush of excitement rush through my veins at a dizzying pace as I realize the weight of the situation.

Max removes his hand from my leg and touches my hair. “You can stay as long as you want,” he states, implying that I’m welcome to stay all night. “But only if you want. I’d never ask you to do anything you didn’t want to.”

As we pull into his drive, I feel all of my senses shift into hyper drive. As sure as I know that the sun is going to rise tomorrow, I know how this night is going to end. It both excites and terrifies me.

tbc

Part Twenty

“Lemon chicken, wild rice, steamed vegetables,” Max states proudly as he sets my plate before me.

I look down at it in wonder – first, that he made all of this himself, second because he’s obviously not afraid to use his mother’s good china. He’s gone out of his way to create the mood – he’s set the dining room table, not the one in the kitchen where we’ve eaten before. The lights are dimmed, there are candles and red roses on the table, and I think I can hear music coming from another room. He’s the most romantic 17-year-old I’ve ever met.

“Well, what do you think?” he prompts, grinning.

“It looks wonderful,” I say. “And it smells great, too.”

He hovers beside the table, that silly, self-satisfied grin on his face until I start to wonder if he cooked only for me.

“Do you have a plate, too?” I ask him.

Max seems to snap out of whatever trance he was in. “Yep, sure do.”

He retreats to the kitchen and I have to hide my grin. When he returns, he has his plate and a bottle of wine. I raise my eyebrows questioningly. I remember his one and only experiment with alcohol – unfortunately, so does half of Roswell.

“It’s for you,” he says, pouring me a half glass. “Do you like Chardonnay?”

I shrug. “I don’t know,” I admit. “I’ve never had it.” But, I’m an adventure girl so I pick up the glass, sniff it, then take a little sip. The alcohol immediately spreads out to my fingertips and toes. “Yeah, I like it,” I grin.

Satisfied, he goes to his seat at the other end of the table. I look at the wine glass and decide if I finish it, there will be no others. I don’t want to spend this night drunk. I want to remember everything.

The food is actually pretty good. Max is right – no one cooks as well as Michael, but he’s a close second. I just wish the butterflies in my stomach would stop long enough to let me enjoy my meal. I’ve got this nervous anticipation coursing through my veins that will just not stop.

Max chatters aimlessly, a rarity for him, and I know he’s a little nervous, too. I smile at him and let him ramble, and after awhile he blushes and clears his throat, nabbed. He sips his water and wipes his mouth with his napkin.

After a half hour of picking at my food, Max gets up from his seat and comes to my end of the table.

“Would the lady care to dance?” he asks, an amused smile curving his lips as he holds out his hand for me.

I smile back and take his hand, letting him pull me to my feet and into the living room. In the background, I hear soft music; a rather romantic mix, I notice.

“What CD?” I ask him, looking up into his dark eyes.

He shrugs, taking my hand in his and bringing it to his chest, the other resting on my waist. “Just something I made.”

“Something you made?” I ask in surprise, putting my free hand on his shoulder.

He nods and looks a little embarrassed. “Yeah. Don’t say anything, okay? I don’t want to get beaten up in the locker room if the guys find out.”

I can’t help but laugh – Max is the last person who would give a shit that “the boys” knew he made a romantic mix CD for his girlfriend.

He smiles at me and pulls me tight to his body. I inhale deeply, breathing in the scent of his cologne. I only wish that I’d known this night was coming – I would have put some effort into my clothes and make up. But when Max said he’d pick me up from work, I had no idea this is what he had in mind.

“You know I think you’re beautiful, right?” he says against my ear.

I smile and nod my head. “And you know I think you’re beautiful, right?”

He doesn’t answer, so I pull back so I can look into his face. He looks so uncertain and I know why – to the outside world, Max has always considered himself a freak. How could he not? He isn’t even human. And even though those things don’t matter to me, they matter to him. They have kept him in his shell all of these years, certain he was some sort of monster. Agent Pierce’s actions only reinforced that belief.

Reaching up, I push some of his hair away from his forehead. He watches me silently, even though we are still moving with the music.

“You are,” I tell him softly. “You’re beautiful on the outside. But more important, you’re beautiful on the inside, Max.”

He smiles gently at me, then leans in to kiss me. And all is right with the world. I could stand here forever, wrapped in his arms, listening to beautiful music and kissing this beautiful man. My private utopia is disturbed, however, as I feel him dip to take me behind the knees, hoisting me into his arms as though I weighed nothing.

We continue to kiss as he carries me down the hallway, toward his bedroom. With a flick of his fingers, the candles on the dining room table go dark and I have to laugh at the fact that even in the throes of passion Max is still incredibly sensible.

I don’t open my eyes again until we are in his bedroom. There are candles everywhere and my impression of Max being safety conscious flies right out the window. Gently, he sets me on my feet and closes his door – as a precaution or a reflex, I’m not sure. Turning to face me, he slides his hands into his back pockets and looks uncertain.

“We don’t have to,” he explains quietly and I know he’s hoping that we do anyway. “I mean, I’ll understand if you’re not ready.”

Not ready? My hormones have been screaming since he told me he had the house to himself this evening. I resort to giving him a gentle smile and reaching for his hand. His grin is immediate, victorious.

I kiss him, then reach to pull off his shirt. Before I do, however, I stop and look into his eyes.

“You know I’ve never done this before,” I say, more as a question than a statement.

He nods. “I know. Neither have I.” He looks down at my hands, at my hesitation. “Are you afraid?”

I shake my head and slowly pull his shirt toward the ceiling. He lifts his arms and lets me pull it all of the way off, letting it drop behind him. I run my fingertips over the hard muscles of his chest and muse that his breasts might be bigger than mine. Not that he seems to care. I plant a couple of kisses against his skin but pull away when I feel him tugging my shirt up as well.

I let him pull the blouse off and it falls at my feet. Before he looks at my body, he touches my face with the back of his hand; I place a kiss on it as it passes my mouth. Then he touches my shoulders, smoothes the skin of my arms, his thumbs grazing my breasts. I swallow hard, then reach behind myself to undo the clasp of my bra. I had thought about letting him struggle with it for the entertainment value, but that’s not what tonight’s about.

As the bra falls away, I look to the floor, a sudden rush of modesty. Don’t ask me where that came from. Maybe just from knowing what is going to transpire this night. I feel Max’s fingers under my chin and he lifts my face so that he can look me in the eye. He’s smiling as he leans in to kiss me.

I feel so safe with him, safer than I’ve ever felt with anyone. I reach for his zipper and slowly slide it down, finishing off by popping the button of his jeans. He helps me pull them down and he’s before me, entirely nude and unashamed of himself. I let my eyes wander over him, feeling a smile come to my lips as I reach for my own zipper.

Max’s hands are there, helping me. I have a sudden flash of anxiety as I realize that my bra and panties don’t match. If I’d had more notice, my bra and panties would have matched! But as soon as the panties and my jeans are cast aside, I realize that he’ll probably never see the two of them together, so what does it matter?

The cool air of Max’s room prickles my skin as he reaches to take my hand. Wordlessly, he leads us over to his bed and climbs on, pulling me down beside him. We lie facing one another.

“We don’t have to hurry,” he whispers, touching my hair. “We have all of the time in the world.”

We spend a lot of time – maybe an hour – just exploring each other’s bodies, touching, kissing, getting used to being naked with one another. We touch each other everywhere but where it matters most –that gets saved for last. It’s both relaxing and exciting. I guess it just makes me more comfortable with him.

Max goes on an exploration of my chest, kissing, teasing, reveling in the fact that his kisses can make my heart pound faster. When he raises his head, he has a fascinated smile on his face that he knows something so intimate about me. I run my hands through his hair, loving the silky feel of its fullness.

I go on an expedition of my own, tracing the hard muscles of his chest, his abdomen, his thighs. He’s built like a Greek god. I can hear that his breathing has increased as well, and when I look at him, his eyes are closed, blindly enjoying the feel of my touch.

Crawling up his body, I lie flat against him and whisper in his ear, “It’s time.”

He opens his eyes into little slits, draws in a few deep breaths, then retrieves a condom from his nightstand. I help him put it on, trying to make an act that’s only purpose is prevention seem romantic. And then we are together.

It doesn’t hurt. Not even a little bit. It feels incredible and my sudden intake of breath spreads a look of dread and worry across Max’s face.

“No,” I tell him, grabbing a hold of his arms. “I’m okay. Don’t stop.”

I watch his eyes and all I see there is love and tenderness. I get lost in the sensations – new, wonderful sensations – flowing through my body and eventually I close my eyes to savor them. I cling to him, clutching at his back, which is now covered in a thin sheen of sweat. We ride the waves together, our bodies moving as one, our breath coming harder and harder until we both plunge over the edge. I let out a little cry of euphoria, but Max only releases what sounds like an exaggerated sigh.

I’ve read in magazines that it’s nearly impossible for two people to climax together. Odd then that Max and I got it right on the first try…

He collapses on top of me, breathless, and I tiredly wrap my arms around him, holding him while he recovers. Eventually, he slides off to the side, spent, and wraps his arms around me, cradling me against his chest. I watch it heave until his breathing returns to normal.

“Wow,” I say when I can finally form words. “That was some flash…”

I look up into Max’s face and he looks dismayed. “Maria, that wasn’t –“

I can’t help it – I burst out laughing. He hesitates, then shakes his head, laughing with me. He tightens his arms around me, pulling me tighter against him.

“I love you, Maria,” he says.

Odd that I can give him my body without question and yet having him admit to me that he loves me scares the bejesus out of me. All I can do is make a joke.

“Sure, now you say it.”

He pulls away a little and shakes his head. “I need to be serious now, Maria,” he says gently. “I mean it. I love you.”

He does mean it. I think about Alex’s words, reprimanding me for not letting myself be happy. Having Max love me would make me happy – beyond measure.

I bite my lips and tentatively return the sentiment. “I love you, too, Max.”

He smiles at me and hugs me tight, giving me a lingering kiss. After a few minutes, he reaches to the end of his bed and pulls a blanket over the two of us. We lay together, kissing occasionally, touching lightly until I think we fall asleep.

“What the hell was that?”

I open my eyes and look up to see Max with an amused expression on his face. “What?” I ask. I glance at the clock – it’s two in the morning.

“That noise. Didn’t you hear it?”

I lay motionlessly, but I hear nothing. I’m about to say so, when my stomach lets forth with an ungodly racket. I feel my cheeks blush and I’m happy that some of the candles have gone out in the room and Max can’t see it.

“I think maybe sex makes me hungry,” I say in embarrassment.

He laughs and gently releases me. “Don’t go anywhere,” he says as he gets up from the bed – and now I wish there were a few more candles so I could check him out again.

He pulls on his boxers, then leaves the room. I sit up, look around for my clothes and see that they are on the other side of the room. Max’s T-shirt is beside the bed, though, so I grab it and pull it over my head. I can hear him rattling around in the kitchen – refrigerator door, silverware drawer – and then he’s back in the bedroom with a tub of ice cream.

“What do you have there?” I grin.

He holds up the container. “Ben and Jerry’s Phish Food,” he announces, then hops onto the bed, falling into an Indian-style position.

I do the same, taking one of the spoons from him. We take turns feeding one another, giggling, kissing every now and then and I can’t think of a better night in my life.

Some of the ice cream slides off his spoon and plops onto his chest, then proceeds to run a dark streak down to his abdomen. He flinches at the cold as I giggle. Leaning toward him, I use a Kleenex from his nightstand to wipe away the ice cream and my giggle fades away as I see that it was concealing the scar in the center of his chest, the scar that Agent Pierce started and Liz Parker made permanent. I lay a kiss against it, wishing I could make it better. He tips his head, chin against chest, and watches me.

“Look out,” he says softly and I pull away curiously.

Using the tip of his index finger, he traces the length of the scar and it vanishes. I raise an eyebrow, but he just smiles at me. Max has finally let go of the things that put that scar there, the hurt he’s been carrying around like so much baggage.

tbc