Roswell Fanatics

Max POV
2nd week of June
2006.

“Mark!” Ma’s on her trip again. “MARK!!”

I hear movements outside my room, Mark stumbling down the stair. He came home damn late last night. I suppose celebrations over one ‘military tactic’ take three weeks.

“Max!” Of course, she won’t miss me out.

I leave the towel on my shoulders, hair still dripping and make my way down. It’s another fine Belfast morning – rainy, cool and gray. Makes me want to puke.

“Son, you’ll catch your death!” Ma starts

I murmur faintly. “Seems like it’ll catch me.”

Uncle Patrick sits besides me, wiping off some water. “It may, lad, if yer not careful.”

I love my family, but personally, Patrick’s never scored any points with me. He’s too…militant, I guess. Da’s more political. Uncle Patrick’s all about the IRA, “the POWs must come home or else...” and what not rubbish. If only my father would put a lid on him! Maybe then Mark wouldn’t have turned out to be such a jackass.

“So, Max.” Da starts, coming in.

“What?” I ask, busy reading the comics strip.

“Son.” There’s a thread of warning in his tone and I calm down real quick. He continues, satisfied with my response. “I was wondering about your trip to Boston.”

I don’t want to go. Not after the things that have been started in Belfast here and now. I can still see the smile on her face while we’d talked, the way she’d trembled when the bomb had gone off. Why do I have to leave now? She’ll probably think I had something to do with it.

“Son?” Patrick repeats. I start. Done it again.

This time, Ma smiles broadly. “Max, honey, is there something you’re not telling me about?”

All the men in the table turn their scruntiny at me and I control the erupting scowl. “No Ma.”

“You must be.” She persisted. “Is it a girl?”

If I’d had any doubts that Da, Patrick and Mark had suspected something, they’ve just been confirmed. The air turns confrontational, so I do my best to diffuse it. I wink back at Ma.

“Yep.” I can practically see Mark glowering.

“Who is it?" Patrick asks.

“Her name’s Tess Harding but…” I let it go.

Ma turns up her nose. “That girl is well…. rather forward, isn’t she?”

I hide my chuckle. The men in the room relax. “Forward is too bland for her.” I inform her, finishing up my breakfast.

Ma’s eyebrows narrow together. “Is it now?”

Why are all women like this? “Yes, it is Ma. Don’t worry. She likes me, I don’t like her.”

She visibly calms down. “Well, that’s something.”

Everyone guffaws. I sit back and catch Mark’s eyes. While the rest of them fall for my bluff, my brother look singularly unimpressed. I sigh and take off. Clearly, I have to try harder.

“I have to go. Kyle and the gang’ll be here any second.” I tell them, a prelude to leaving.

“Going where?” Ma asks but I can see Mark glaring at me like I’m lying or something. Ok fine, so I lied a little bit last week when I went to meet Alex, hoping to get over to East Belfast. Just my luck that I got caught, too. They’re not even allowing Catholics to enter without references there anymore. Ho matter what Alex said, the soldier hadn’t budged. We’d been stuck there until I spotted Mark nearby, looking malevolent. Of course he’d been rubbing it in ever since.

“Nowhere, Ma. We’ll just go…hang out somewhere.”

“Don’t drink!” Ma warns.

“Don’t go to East Belfast!” That’s Patrick.

“Hope this ain’t a lie.” Mark drawls, arrogant bastard.

“You didn’t tell me about Boston!” Da says, irritated.

Sigh!! Does this never get old, even for them???

“I won’t. I won’t. No, it’s not. I’ll tell you after I come back.” Before they can all ask simultaneously, I let them know. “I’ll be back before lunch.” Finally! Peace.

A horn sounds outside. A blast of Sugar Ray makes its way inside. Maria. I grab my coat and leave.

“Don’t forget your wallet!!’ Ma calls out after me. Mothers!!!
~~/\~~


“You cannot quit me so quickly…”

Yes, that’s Dave Mathew’s song being butchered by Maria. Actually, she’s got a wonderful Irish soprano, whatever that means, but right now, it grates on our nerves. Kyle looks pleadingly at Maria to shut up but she goes on. I mentally clog my ears and stare out at the river. The lyrics fit in my head.

The space between
The tears we cried
The laughter keeps us coming back for mind

I can’t help but relate. What’s wrong with me? Now lyrics fit in?

“When’re you going, Max?”

“What?” Kyle’s words hadn’t registered as yet. “Sorry, I didn’t hear.” I excuse my lack of attention, pointing a finger at Maria.

He rolls his eyes. “Boston, laddie. When’re you going?”

“When it’s convenient.”

“Aye, what about the summer fest, then?” he asks, settling down beside me and grabbing the vodka bottle.

Danny tosses him the carton of juice and of course, Kyle refrains from more questions. That gives me time to think.

“The summer fest? That starts tomorrow.” I tell him, taking my time and not stepping into any of his baits. Kyle Valenti, trapper extraordinaire.

“That’s my point. You’re gonna watch the street performances, right?” Is that a loaded question or what? It’s hard to say.

“I’ll stay for the fest.” Ok, Kyle, I’ll bite this much.

“Excellent! Then we can have our version of Midsummer’s night, eh?” he grins and I let the tension slip.

He was talking about our usual bashes on Midsummer’s eve. This is the first time we’re allowed to do it on our own, since we’re all grown up and all, y’know. This time, we’re going to have a blast!

Maria joins in. She plops down between Kyle and me and starts off another song. Kyle and I clap our hands over her mouth simultaneously and her laughter is stifled into what sounds like a belch. Kyle springs up.

“Eww!”

Maria practically asphyxiates with laughter. She gets drunk very easily. I lean forward to tickle her but I hear a familiar voice.

“Max!”

Maria’s hilarity’s forgotten fast, as is Kyle’s. Neither of them hates Alex, like Mark, but they can’t really stand him all that much either.

“Alex!” I wave back and jog over. Maria glowers.

We shake hands, both our palms cold from the wind. He moves away. “You’ve been drinking something, mate!”

I laugh. “Aye.”

“Well, do you have some left?’ he asks, in his typically dry, wry tone. I grin cheekily and shake my head.

He sees the futility and backs off.

“All righty, then! You coming for the fest?” Is that the only question anyone can ask anymore? Jesus!

“Aye.” The enthusiasm is clearly diminished from my voice and he catches it fast.

“Uh-huh.” He says. “ Then...I’ll just see you there.”

“Later!”

I wave at him, taking a step back. He looks at me like there’s a lot he wants to say and since I can read Alex pretty well, I can bet you a thousand Euros, it’s about Elizabeth. What to do? What to do?

“Alex wait!” I yell after him. I’m a glutton for punishment, that’s what I am!

He stops instantly.

“Max!” Kyle has that tone again, like he doesn’t really like what’s going on. I can’t piss Kyle off; I need him on my side! I turn back, grasping blindly for a plausible excuse.

“Max!” this time, Maria joins in.

“I’ll be right back. Alex’s got this…concert coming up, so...” I race off without giving them anything to object to.

“That lad’s heading for trouble.” The wind carries Danny’s voice through and for a second, I’m frozen.

Alex’s waiting patiently for me, just a coupe of yards away. Oh, who cares? We’re both adults, now, for God’s sake!

“What, Max?” Oh, Alex, no cat-and-mouse game now! I think my look shows something.

“Ok, look. I heard about the whole store incident!” he informs me. His look gives nothing away. I damn him mentally but keep my hands moving and my face laughing like I’m talking about a concert. He continues. “So, listen, I need to know. This is getting dangerous! She almost asked…if you were...uhh…stalking her or what?”

I scowl so foully that he quickly looks away for a second, trying to hide his smile.

“WHAT?”

Everyone turns to look at me. Suckered again! "What do you mean, you don’t have spare tickets?” I yell theatrically.

Alex smirks. “Very good, Max. You should be in the theater.”

“Shut up! What else did that girl say? Stalking her! Indeed!”

“Oh, come on! It’s not that! She’s worried that someone must’ve started the gossips about you and …her, and now the whole community will know and all, y’know! Suppose someone attacks her or you! I don’t want either one of you hurt. You’re going to Boston, right? So, good! But you took a risk that day, going over and talking to her and it should stop. God only knows what that freak Michael or your brother’s been talking about!” he finishes in a rush.

I’m speechless. All the jumbled comments and warnings rock through me and for a moment, I can’t see. Oh, I stalk her now? Why, the little bitch! Oh, yeah! Like it’s only her reputation down the line!

Alex guesses at my disturbing silence.

“Look, Max. She doesn’t want anything to happen to you! That’s why she wanted me to have a talk with you.

“She asked you to talk to me? About what?”

“Relax!!” Alex looks causally towards the steps and I calm myself down. Oh man, I didn’t know Liz’s ego was that big!

“What part of the conversation and what part of “this is dangerous” did you NOT get?” Alex barks out in return. I feel sorry for him. He’s being forced to choose sides.

“I get it all right!” I snarl back, my mind stinging with humiliation to think straight. “She thinks I’ve the hots for her, does she? Of all the egotistic bitc…” I trail off as his eyes freeze.

“Enough, Max! Spare me of what you think of her, ok? And do yourself a favour” he tosses over his shoulder as he starts walking away. “Don’t come to the fest.”

SOB! Cowardly mofo SOB! Now what do I do?

Despite all that, the knowledge that Elizabeth goody-two-shoes, Ms. bleeding-saintly Parker now totally knows about the tiny crush I had on her, is making me blow off steam more than Isabel does to her guys. BIG time.

What to do? Damage control won’t be easy, not when I’m this pissed and definitely not since I’ve got no one on my side. Funny. I actually thought, for once, I found someone on my corner. Pride’s hurting, sure, but I’d be lying to myself if I said I didn’t feel disappointed.

Anyway, I’ve just got the perfect excuse to boycott the stupid fest. Didn’t want to go anyway.

I sulk on my way back to Kyle and the rest. All of them look mighty interested to hear what I’ve to say in defense of my scrawny ass. Would someone PLEASE pinch me now???

“Yo boy, where be the real Max?” SO not funny, Kyle. He thinks he’s Gibbs from POTC. Retarded shit.

“Left any for me or what?” I growl and all of them hoot. Sure to hear HER name any second, I prepare myself internally for Zen.

After a few minutes of immature laughter, they quieten down, not able to gauge a satisfactory response out of me.

‘What’s the matter with you, laddie?” Danny barks form the other end of the stairs. Not liking my surly ‘tude. I don’t see it. I’m too busy coming up with good enough put-downs to shove in her face the next time I see her. Snotty bitch!

“MAX!” Maria roars. Dude, she smells! I wrinkle my nose and get out of her immediate vicinity. Instantly she whips out a pack of gum.

“Phew! Better.” I tell her.

“Well, what did he want?” Kyle, of course, thinks this is a conspiracy that has something or the other to do with Ms. Parker. Damn him, he’d be right too.

“Nothing. He came to rub it in.” I wince at the accuracy of my own words.

“Rub it in?” Danny repeats, curious. Of course, he’d be curious.

“Concert. No tickets, that stuff.” I shrug it off.

Kyle looks at me weirdly and then goes back to the issue he seems happiest with. "So, when’re you going? Boston?”

“You wanna get rid of me or what?” I joke but inside, the idea’s seriously beginning to take root.

A week or two at my uncle’s place, eager American girls and maybe a little bit of my self-respect back. Hmm…not a bad idea.

“I’ll be going soon.” I tell him.

We spend the rest of 3 hours bickering back and forth and getting fully wasted. All through it all, I’m busy thinking one thing – what excuse can I use NOT to go the fest?

“Max!” Maria gasps, tears of mirth streaming form her eyes at yet another lame joke. “ What do you think?”

“Dunno.” I tell her, my mind still on Elizabeth’s audacity.

All of them look at one another and burst into a fresh bout of laughter. What the hell did I miss?
~~~~/\~~~



Hours later.
Falls road.

“Hi, Ma.” I kiss my mother’s sagging cheek. Once, she used to be comely and so young. Now, she looks gray and tired. Just like Belfast. No wonder Isabel never asks anyone to meet Ma and Da; they both look like her grandparents now. It’s a shame, especially since Ma’s always been so full of life. Still is, but…

“Hello, sweetie.” She returns, rubbing her cheek against mine, since her hands were full of lamb. “Lamb roast tonight.” She smiles triumphantly. I grin back, taking a stool and starting on the veggies.

“Wash your hands, Max.” she orders, not turning her eyes away from some supposedly fab vacuum cleaner. “Eat something, do your homework, I don’t need help.”

“It’s all right, Ma.” Might as well waste some time. “I’ve got nothing to do.”

She glances up, disturbed. “Anything wrong, luv? How’re your mates?”

“Good.” The briefer the answer, the better.

“Did you smoke?” she asks sharply, sniffing the air. Like I’m stupid enough to come home smelling like a pub!

“Of course not.”

“Well? Something’s obviously not right!” She teases. “Girl trouble?” and then frowns as if it’s so unheard of.

“Just figuring out the meaning of my existence.” I sigh.

“Aw!” She coos and hugs me with her meat-free hand. “Aren’t you sweet? At your age, I was busy getting into trouble with grades and boys, honey. Not worrying about my purpose in life.” She pauses for effect. “Chill, honey. You’re still too young.”

Chill? My geriatric mother said ‘chill’?

She’s looking at me expectantly. What the hell am I supposed to say? “When you and Da…uh….” I trail off. I can’t believe the convo I started!

She laughs. “Girl trouble.” The she turns serious. “I thought you were through with that Harding girl!”

“Oh, not her. Not any girl!” I amend quickly seeing the glint again. “Just…” what the fuck, go for it! “curious.” I end lamely.

“You’re curious about your parents love-life?” she raises an eyebrow.

I blanch. ANYHTING but that!

“NO!” I shout and race out of the kitchen. Phew! Talk about de-moralizing, hearing about your parents’ courtship. Eww.

The door slams downstairs. I hear the sounds, the boots being scuffed on the steps and then moving in. Da’s home.

I am just about to go as I hear Da talking to Patrick about something. I hear snippets of “Do you know what could happen?” “It was them, I knew it beforehand” and some more hushed voices joining in. What the hell happened now?

Ma comes out “ Hello, sweetheart.”

Da brushes her aside and practically shoves her back to the kitchen. I see a look in both their faces I’ve never seen before – fear.

“Not now, Diane!” he practically snarls, then fixes his tone instantly, aware of the rest of them. All look sheepish. “Sorry, honey. Bad day. Call me for dinner?”

“Aye.” She says quietly, her eyes fixed on his face, as if looking for something. She apparently finds it because I can see the recognition on her face from up here. She turns and goes back in. The men follow Da into his study.

I’m amazed at my folks. How the hell can they tell? My ma just looked at him and figured it out. The day I find that same thing with someone, I’ll marry her. Doesn’t matter who she is. Oh, man…what the hell is wrong with me?

I make my way back to the kitchen. Ma’s sitting on her stool, absentmindedly smoking a cigarette.

“Hey.” I say, taking it away form her. ‘You quit, remember?”

“Hmm?” she mumbles, still looking old and gray.

“Is everything all right, Ma?”

Finally she looks at me, She’s got that look – terrified, tired, drained. And then finds a smile for me as only a mother can. “It’s fine, baby, don’t worry.”

“Ma, don’t call me baby!” I manage, letting it go. Talking about it now is only going to make matters worse. "Can I help?” I ask, gesturing towards the rest of the stuff.

She thanks me and gets up to get the dinner. That’s her life. Husband, kids, family, politics. It’s a vicious cycle. For the umpteenth time I wonder, where the hell she gets her perseverance.

When I was a kid, I never noticed the worry lines across her face the whole day. Those would ease the instant Da walked in through the door. And then they would appear again, without fail, every morning. They were so much a part of Ma; I think we all found it commonplace. But nowadays, she gets nervous easily, snaps at us if something happens. Her optimism is fading. It just reinforces one thing I’ve always held fast to – I’m not putting any woman through that. Not my mother, not my sister (if she cared, that is), not my friends. And not the woman I’ll marry, if ever. Nope. I’ve seen Diane suffer enough.

“Hey, Max.” Jim brushes past me, to find an ashtray. Jim, Kyle’s father, is one cool dad with a capital C. He’s also been a good friend to both Jamie Kilpatrick and Da, so naturally, I have a lot of time for him.

“Hello, Jim. So, what’s up with Da?” Maybe he’ll talk.

“Nothing for you kids to worry about.” He sighs at my raised eyebrow. "You’re too young for all of this shit. Go and do...whatever you kids do.” He walks out without further disturbing revelations

Hmm, that is food for thought. What the hell happened? Did Da get wind of Elizabeth and me? Nah…then he wouldn’t have been so uptight. After all, we’re just teens. Or maybe Mark did something? Jesus!

I run to the phone and dial his cell. He answers on the first ring. “What?” I can hear the hiss, even through the bad connection.

“Bad time?” I ask. God only knows what he’s doing.

“Very.” He replies tersely. “We’ll talk later.” He hangs up. Gee…bye, Mark! Nice talking to you too!

I sink onto the bed, head in hands.

“What the hell do you mean?” The enraged whisper comes just from underneath my window. I get out of bed and ease the sash open and cock my ears. That was Jim.

“I mean, Jim, that it was them. They were behind this too. Jamie’s death was no ‘coincidence’ if you know what I mean. So all this talk of retribution is going to do nothing but cause more of a nightmare!”

What retribution? Jamie? How does Jamie figure into it? I lean more, trying to make out what Da’s saying.

“There’ll be hell to pay and we’ve got to pay it! Bloody jackasses! And the Sinn Fein’s going to get crucified on their behalf! I tell you, if we don’t do something, we’re all going down, mate!” Da inhales deeply enough for me to hear.

I don’t understand – what were they talking about? Jamie? What is this new horror on top of everything else? I try to make sense of it but nothing comes to me. I don’t see the connection. Jamie and who? Who is this ‘they’? It’s enough to make me go nuts. All that matters now is to make sure Da stays alive. After all, he was just saying something about getting screwed. Shit, is this in the parliament? Shit!!

I hear Ma holler from downstairs about dinner getting cold. I leave the mystery to those better-qualified to understand it. Neither parents will say anything; Mark’s gone to hell and no one else is willing to talk. What am I supposed to do?


Sorry, if it got a bit confusing but it's relevant to upcoming parts. Thanks to all those who've been so patient.

love,
Sarah

Author's Note -

Aww, shucks you guys. Thankies all. I'm not going to post an enormous A/N about why I failed to update and how grateful I am for such terrific readers, I'll just can it and say that I'm going through my first finals EVER and very much nevous. Sorry. I promise, I'll be all over this one as soon as I get a spare moment.

frenchkiss - As always, you got it in one. Troubles are coming, indeed but they'll be coming is long, delayed blasts so don't worry your darling head about it. It's just sth that'll crop up later.

roswellluver - same goes double for you, lol. Thanks, as always.

Elle - Since I know what you think about delayed updates (ya know what i'm talking abt!), this part is dedicated to you, lol. Please accept with my deepest apologies for the delay.

Smac - welcome! Aww, thanks, sweetie. Actually, I hope I'm doing a passable job of the political situation but I like writing about the events that're going to shape Max and Liz's future, so bear with me. It might seem tedious later on. Thanks so much.

I'm a dreamer - Hiya!! Aw, hun, news flash - you might like this part a little better.

Pycho - hey! Aww, lookit all of 'em!

ok, enough babbling. This part is rather in joint recognition of the starting of a new year in my country or Pohela Baishakh, as we say. It basically means the Start of the Rains. I'm not giving away any hints but you decide if this part relates to the occasion. Hehe, lememe know.

Love,
Sarah
~~/\~~



Liz POV
Later, the same day


“Liz!” Ma calls, “Phone!”

“Who now??” I moan piteously into my ratty journal. Jeez, I should buy myself a new one. Oh well…

“’llo?” I blare into it. This had better be good. No one disturbed in the midst of my muse, NO one.

“Liz, babe!” comes the very jovial bullhorn on the other end.

I can imagine him scrunching his face into thin lines and squinted eyes.

“Hey, Alex!” Ok, muse maybe on hold for a while. “What’s up?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all. Just wondering what my fave gal’s doing at home on Saturday night.” There is a slight question behind his carefully modulated tone.

“You know my Satudray night ritual, buddy. By the way, you’re late.” I remind him.

He catches on fast. “Right. Chick flick night. What should I bring, scrumplicious Orli or rough’n’tough
Whatchucallit?? Sorry,” he ends, face still obviously scrunched up. “Not too good with these pretty boys’ names today.”

I scoff. We’ve never watched a chick flick in my life together. It’s always boxing, football or some such crap.

“Bring something funny. I’m in the mood to laugh.” I’m in more of a mood to sit down and bawl the place down, ever since I’ve been confirmed a berth in street performances for the upcoming summer fest, but still. A laugh is much needed.

“Oh, good. I’ve some things to share.”

“Like?” I’ll admit; Alex’s ‘funny’ redefines the word.

“Like…” He trails off, thrilled to bits to be baiting me, “You’ll see when I come in.”

“Well, fucking move your arse.” I snarl at him.

“Coming, dear!” he trills from the other end and I hang up.

The doorbell rings exactly at 8.

“I’ll get it.” I shout downstairs and race to get it. I’ve not seen him in a while and I missed the last little guffaws quite desperately.

“Hello, sunshine!” I greet him.

He looks anything but sunshiny. His face is twisted into a scowl and there is a DVD cover of Tom Cruise’s latest film in his hand.

I scowl back. “I HATE Tom Cruise!”

He shakes his head. “No way am I drudging all the way back. Forget it.”

I grab my coat, suddenly desperate to leave the house. “Let’s go.”

I give a shout upstairs. “Mum, I’m going out with Alex for a sec. Laters!”

I know why I left so hurriedly. I want my weekly fix of Max. I want to know and I can tell Alex has the stuff to deliver. I need my Max fix. Not literally, just a little curiosity satisfied, I’d be pretty stupid not to pick up on the little signals that he kinda liked me...just a tad bit. Wow, stalker much?

“Alex…” I warn him, eyebrows hiked.

“Liiiz!” he drawls back. The grins and give it up. I latch on to his arm.

“Ok, so I met Max today…” He leaves off, teasingly.

If anyone told me that I’d resorted to blackmailing and begging for info on some Catholic guy a few weeks back, I’d have told them they were nuts. Ones that look great when sprinkled on top of a tossed salad. You know…the crushed type. And now, now look at me. I look like a junkie, desperate for my next high. What the hell has happened to me? I think about that guy and I go up in smoke. Literally. I tried my first cigarette a couple of days ago, anything to stop this weird need to go talk to him again. I was not a pretty sight later.

I glower at him. Enough already! “Alex. Spill.”

“Ok, ok!” he backs off. “And I told him that the way you guys kept bumping in to each other…’

“I know! Like Sal’s store!” I butt in before I can help myself.

That meeting had been different on many levels. Of course I’d told Alex all about it but just brigning it up again, I can see his glowing eyes. What was he thinking?

“Well, yeah.” Alex gives me a weird look, like he’s going to tell me something I’ll regret hearing. "You sure about hearing it?” I nod; this has just confirmed it. A dark, dank cloud clutter my mind.

“What did you do, Alex?” I glare.

He looks suitably chastised. “I didn’t do anything, Liz! I was just worried about you and him, so I sorta told him…” he trails off, smothering a cough.

“Told him what?” I ask softly, my two grubby paws strangling his scrawny neck.

“Unggh! Liz, lemme breathe!” I slacken the collar and inch. “Ughh…ooof! I, well…kinda told him..” Again, I hear the sound of his rather urgent breathing.

“Well?”

“I told him you didn’t appreciate the fact that he was uh...stalkingyou!” The last words came out jumbled together.

I let go of him in shock. Both of us stumble backward.

I shake my head, trying to clear his words. He did what?

“You WHAT?” I screech. Oh my GOD!!

He doubles over, tears falling down his worthless cheeks. “Hehehe, I mean...uhh, well…” he trails off again at my blanched face and stiff posterior.

“Relax!” he smiles at me. “It was harmless. We all had a good laugh.”

I blanch further. He laughed? Wait, isn’t that worse than calling the IRA out on my ass?

Alex is still chucking and talking, like I give damn what he's saying. "…and it’ll all blow over. All I can tell you is the next time you see him, be prepared for ice behaviour. Max can be like that at times.” He stops chortling.

“Liz?”

“You kinda told him or sorta?” I ask, still ashen.

This sort of things don’t happen to goody-two-shoes like me! This is the first time I’ve actually determinedly pursued someone. And yes, my pursuit consists of innumerable absent chats and a quick ‘hullo!’ in real life. That’s me.

He scratches his chin as if wondering how to tell me what the hell difference it would make now. “Sorta..I think.”

“Sorta is better right?” I ask anxiously.

He looks at me pitifully. “Oh Lizzie.” He comes forward to rescue me from this funny rabbit hole I fell in. “It’s not like that.”

I shake him off savagely. "You did WHAT?” I shriek again, this time fully aware of the consequences. Damn the stupid mofo who couldn’t think straight!

He cowers and then resumes his laughfest. “Liz!” he pants, “it’s not that bad, Jesus, I thought Max’s reaction was priceless!”

He went even more spastic than I did? Bad news, bad news!

“What did he say?” I get out through clenched teeth. It’s currently taking all my strength to remember that Alex is a cherished friend. Breathe. Breathe. There you go.

“well, apart from ranting at your insufferable arrogance...” I cringe. “…he seemed too stunned to talk sense. Got all hot and bothered. Boyo likes you.” He ends smoothly.

At first the words don’t really register. And then they do. I unclench my teeth with efoort and my jaw aches like it has never before. Not even that time I got socked in the jaw back in 3rd grade.

“Oh, he does.” I bite out.

Alex looks duly chastened.

"Well, yeah.” He says like it clarifies everything.

“Let me just ask you...” I’ve gotten over my stunned into silence phase and am currently revving to fifth gear, “WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?”

“Gee, Liz, calm down!”

“Calm?” I screech full volume and Alex squeezes his eyes close at the racket I’m making. “Calm? What’s there to be so goddamned calm about? You just told him I think HE stalks ME? Do you know what that makes me look like? One of those cheap bimboes who’ve got nothing better to do than go look for trouble!”

“Easy girl! Breathe!” He fans me with his hands. I slap them away. I can tell that he’s not far from another explosion.

“Oh no, Alex! I left calm back at the house! Don’t tell me to be calm! Do you know what he thinks of me? It’s bad enough I practically threw myself at him over in the shop the other day and now…now I have to deal with this!”

I stop my insane ranting and glower at him like the wrath of god. “Thanks a lot, pal!”

He looks away meekly, “Yes, Liz. Sorry.”

I inhale so deeply that my lungs shrivel. “Sorry? Why the …” BREATHE! “What were you thinking?”

I honestly don’t expect an answer to this. It’d be bad enough to hear the answers and the accusations to this ludicrous melodrama, but to actually dignify it with a reason…it will be the last straw.

“Well, I just wanted to know if you guys spark up like this all the time. “ He gives a funny little shrug. "Guess you do, eh?”

“This was to prove some retarded theory of yours?” I push my own mouth closed.

“Well, yeah, kinda…” he quickly shuts up.

My mouth forms a little O.

He smiles sweetly. I want to wring his neck.

“Relax, Lizziebug. The guy has the hots for you. Otherwise he wouldn’t have reacted the way he had. And on top of that, I told him that his following you around not the other way round, was going to create a lot of problems on both sides. Happy now?”

I give myself a moment, mostly to prevent myself from committing fratricide. What’s wrong with me? I’m blowing up over nothing. Well, yeah, my pride just stung and my self-esteem’s wandering around my knees, but big deal. He’s just a guy. I don’t scream over such situations. Since you don’t have any prior experience Liz, why compare non-existent statistics? My brain helpfully chimes in. I swat away a fly, wishing it was my head.

I force myself to stop over-reacting. “Well? what did he say?”

Alex chuckles like a vampire and I repress another shudder. God only knows how Max had handled that.



Next day
Belfast
The street performances.


All I hear around me are the roars of the crowd. Loud, wild and fierce. I have a migraine. And my number isn’t up for another hour. The afternoon sun’s killing me and, on top of that, it feel’s like summer has finally arrived. Today, it’s a glorous day of never-ending sunshine. Why doesn’t the rain fall when you want it to??

“Lizzie, how’s it going?” I turn around. It’s Alex. He’s been hiding my hand all throughout this mess, ever since he’d told me about Max’s reaction.

“It hasn’t changed in 10 minutes.” I reply.

He gets the hint and starts raving like a lunatic on his guitar. Everyone glares at him to keep quiet, because another troupe has shown up. Could this day get ANY worse?

“Alex,” I mumble, trying not to look like a drowned rat roasting slowly in heat. “Could we go home?”
"Sure,” he agrees amiably, "you tell that monster brother of yours about it and I’ll drive.’

I go back to sulking. No one’s going to let me leave till I’m done with this stupid, moronic dance. Gah!!

I scan the crowds for the umpteenth time. Boyo hasn’t shown up. Oh hell, after Alex’s comment, I’d be glad if he even looks my way again. Wait a minute, since when did I start caring? Jeez! This heat had melted my brains.

I spot Mike and I charge for him. It’s not easy. On a full skirt and a lot of scarves and a huge top with a monstrous neckline and a shitload of beads – I correctly look the part of a the hippie from hell. How I’m going to dance in this, I don’t know.

“Mike!" I pant, "I’m dying in here!!”

He takes pity on me since I’m all red. “Here,” He thrusts another cold soda in my hand. “Drink this and behave. God, what the hell is that thing!” He mutters, pointing at the feather outlining my top. Didn’t I mention? I look the part of a huge, tropical fowl.


I sink down in the nearest bench and pray for this nightmare to be over.

"No sign of Max.” Alex whispers, after another scan of the crowd. The way we’d been keeping a surveillance out on him, you’d think he was a runaway or something!

“Give it a rest, Alex. I don’t think he’s coming.”

Alex smiles like his latest, vampiric smile. “Oh he’ll come. It’s a matter of pride.”

“Fools’ gold.” With that, I rip a few more feathers out of the dress and go back to counting the seconds.



Night comes. Ah, bliss. Where was this all day? The lightest hint of rain is in the air. The scorched earh smells ripe and sure enough, thunders spark overhead. The cheering, the dancing and the noise level has just hit a new high. Jeez!

Sean grabs my hand. I’m dead tired after all the dancing but at least I was allowed to change. Replacing that idiotic top wth with simple tank made all the difference and now, I can still breathe and not look like a hen trying to roost.

“Hey you.” I turn and give him a smile. But my eyes are beadily scanning the firelit crowds. Finally, it's feeling like a festival to me.

“Great dancing. All those trainings came to good use, huh?”

“Yeah.” Now please stop.

“Still got one more lined up?” he persists.

“One more.” I clarify and decidedly look around. Just about had it with sitting here.

The breeze picks up and peple of all ages start moving closer to the unlit pile of wood, hay and whatever combustible items they could find. I manage a real smile. Time it is for the bonfires.

“You boys have anything planned?” I ask.

“Just a couple of things.” He keeps his voice light. I assume he means fireworks, cuz that’s what I was asking about.

“Oh, good. No better time.” I comment, watching the crowds throng.
Max, a few Roman candles, a reel and this would be awesome!

He gapes at me and then goes back to studying the crush.

Disappointed at still no traces of him, I turn away. Christy, a girl from my troupe comes up, laughing breathlessly. Ahahaha! Can you hear the sarcasm?

“Cmon, chum, let’s go!” she hollers, inches from my ear.

Chum? Didn’t know that one. Anyways, let’s see what the party’s got going.

I follow her across the revelry, still keeping a perpetual lookout for a cute brunette. Nowhere in sight. God, I could kill Alex!

There is the continuous beat of the crowd’s approval and dancers line up, ready for another number. I hesitate. Alex gives me a thumbs-up from the sidelines and I see Mum swell up with pride.

I turn to react and my eyes collide with jade ones. Max. Finally! I hope I can mangae a quasi-normal smile, but he’s already turning away into the dark, going back to a group. Friends, obviously. I don’t know why I feel disappointed – I knew it was coming.

The fiddles start whining, matched by the bodhrans and the African drums. The enchantment of the reels build, as the audience roars and bangs things to the same beat. I feel my blood thudding along my veins Despite what I said about not being a dancer, there’s no denying that I love doing it.

A breeze cools our perspring faces and I draw in a great draft of air. The formation criss-crosses, and fire-eaters blow out gusts of flames in synchronized movement. The audience goes wild and suddenly, it’s over. I go still, the adrenaline making my knees shake. Hah!


I peek out from underneath my lashes in his direction. Wow, boyo’s mouth is wide open! He looks like he kissed a princess and she turned into a toad. Hee.

We break up and move back to the rest of them. People flood in the square, bringing in blowtorches and kindlings aflame. For a terrifying second, I wonder if this is the prelude to violence, but to all our collective relief, the bonfires start burning.

I can’t try and describe the smell and the sight of a bonfire; you’d have to be here to truly experience it. The smell is earthy, decadent and mixed with the sharp tang of peat and new grass. The flames light up the night; smoke billowing above our heads, creating the slightest mist, making me think of a fairy world. The notes of the players crash over us like breaking waves and I am just so thrilled right now, it’s hard to describe.

Another reel starts up. A boy I don’t even know comes up to me out of nowhere and grabs my hand.

“Wanna dance?” he winks, looking hopeful. Oh, what the heck.

“Sure.” I lead him out to the middle.

I see tons and tons of couples pairing up; brothers and sisters, husbands and wives and various sweethearts.

We’re having the time of our lives.

“You from East Belfast?” My partner shouts over the music.

Ok, laddie, what does that have to do with anyhting?

“Aye!” I reply, trying not to step on his toes.

For one second, he falters and then grins. “And I’m from West.”

This time, I stop. Huh?

He yanks at my waist and I come to. We mix in with the crowd and more fires are being lit. I forget about where he’s coming from and continue to enjoy myself. He’s a good partner and there’s no need for me to just back off cuz he’s Catholic, now is there?

Someone douses the bonfire nearest to me with more dry leaves. Showers of sparks fall and we giggle like kids. I look up and come face to face with the guy I’ve spent the whole day looking for. He looks like he’s about to rip the guy from my side. I smirk without meaning to and Max’s face goes blank. Without another gesture, he turns away.

I squelch a burst of wry laughter and go back to the dancing.

A boy in my class comes up.

“Liz, care for another one?” he eyes the dancing.

I take his hand before he completes the sentence, as I see Mike scowl. Get me out of here!

He smiles sappily and I feel a tinge of pity. I didn’t know he’d had it that bad.

Finally, after three hours of non-stop swinging partners, I cannot move another step. I mutely plead at Alex to rescue me but before I could, Sean moves in. Whatever. I’m grateful either way.

“Take a pill, Parker.” He smiles and then looks pointedly at my newest pup.

“You don’t have to be so damn condescending, Sean!” Like I can’t guess you’re jealous?? Hee.

“I wasn’t. You’re out of his league, lass.” And then he winks.

“Sean, Sean…the things you say.”

He chuckles and finds a place to sit. I wish he’d go away. I crowd pretend to scan the corwds or something.

And then I do.

He’s standing outside the pool of light, face in shadows, looking like something out of a movie. I catch my breath as our looks collide for a second. He’s looking at me like I’m a coward. Why, me wonders. Then I snort inwardly. For someone so hung up on consequences, he sure is ignoring the consequences of his very challenging look.

He turns away again. Body language screams that he expected nothing less from me. I get out of my seat before I can fully understand what I’m doing.

“Liz?” Sean asks, startled.

Well, the gauntlet’s been thrown, hasn’t it? And I want to wipe that smug look off his handsome, jeering face!

I move up to the center. He turns back, looking more than a little miffed. Hah! By the time I’m through, you’ll be eating a lot more than just crow!

The fire-eater had just backed away. I stop him. In as few words as possible, I ask him to hand it over. There’re jeers all around me and I feel a strong sense of foreboding. Maybe I shouldn’t do this. Never mind proving something to Max Evans, there’re other things to worry about!

The guy hands me the bottle and the ring and stands back, grinning cockily. The whole situation has gotten so bizarre, I act on pure instincts.
Wait, those are my fingers poised on the bottle. Things seem to be happening in fast forward all of a sudden.

I raise it to my lips and a second later; I feel my head fall back and a huge gush of fire (Hee!) flare at the air just slightly above me. Complacent, I hand it back to the star-struck guy.

Wow, it was that good?

I sneak a quick peek. Max’s standing there with an expression on his face that shrieks out it’s been a first. I let him know that his challenge’s been accepted and fulfilled and that now, it was his turn. He flushes. Satisfied, I toss my hair and walk back to my seat, shoulders squared through the stunned silence.

Sean looks at me but doesn’t say anything. Then the noise resumes again. Thank god, my knees had kept themselves under control.
~~/\~~





It’s getting late. It’s time for the fireworks. Everyone waits in anticipation and a sudden jostle jerks me away from Mike. He turns but I wave back that I’ll be okay and fight for a better position. Too late, I’ve already relinquished my position and the only place available is in the back.

I duck to avoid another excited person and fall behind. Too bad, ‘cuz I can’t see a damn thing.

“Great!” I mutter to myself. Last thing I expect is a response.

“Too uh...far away?”

I whirl around to confront a snickering Max. Breathe! I tell myself frantically.

“Oh, uh...hi, Max.”

“Hey, Liz.” He grins back. The jerk was making fun of my height!

“So, how’s the air up there?” I ask sardonically.

His eyebrows shoot together and then quickly, he tries to compose his face. “Just a little bit less stifled.”

I laugh reluctantly. Ok, so he has a point! Jeez, Liz, flustered much?

“So…” I quake out.

“So.” he doesn’t seem that ready to make much conversation either.

The first Roman candle lights up the sky, drawing the same amount of cheers and boos from the corwd. I scowl as Michael raises the finger at the rest of the candles, waiting to be lit.

“Give the guy a break. It ain’t exactly the thrilling chapter of anyone’s life, watching fireworks explode.” He says in a low voice.

After I gather breath that he, of all people, actually defended Mike’s boorish behavior, I turn on him.

“One day, Max Evans, I’m going to make you eat those words.”

His interest visibly shines. “Really?”

Don’t we sound smug?!

“Really.” I confirm.

He chuckles. “This’ll be good. How do you plan to make me grow fond of stupid things polluting the air?”

“Like you don’t pollute it?” I emphasize, pointing at the lighted cigarette in his hand.

He chuckles again and my heart starts doing funny things. Jeez!! Self-control, Liz, ever heard the word?

“Oh, that’s just occasional. But, I agree” he concedes, off my raised eyebrows. “But you didn’t answer me. How exactly…”

“From your tone, I take it that you’ve never uh...experienced it?”

I say the stupidest things! His face darkens.

“Experienced what?" He’s wary; I can see it.

I gulp. Now how do I get myself out of this? “Lighting fireworks? Bonfires?” I rapidly search for anything to distract him, never mind how inane I sound!

He scoffs and doesn’t deign to answer. I scowl back.

“Elizabeth. No need to lie. You were asking if I’ve ever experienced fireworks?” Obviously he thinks it’s funny. “As in fireworks of the lateral kind?” he grins.

I feel another monster of a blush surging its way up my exposed neck and face. I keep my face down determinedly.

There’s laugher in his tone but I don’t dare meet his twinkling gaze. It’s not easy being laughed at in public.

“Ok, ok. Quit blushing like that! Your brother’s going to think…um…”

“Yeah!” I throw in hastily, looking around. Nope. Nowhere in sight.

“By the way, I never knew…” he trials off,

Hah! Now who’s the sucker?? I barely contain my gloat. “Knew what?”

“Jesus! You’ve some ego, Parker!” he jokes and I join in, the fact that we were now actually down to trading friendly insults and not gawking like 4 year olds, not even registering. Damn, the guy’s just so easy to talk to. I hope he doesn’t make a fuss about Alex’s gaffe.

“Well?” I demand and his mouth falls open. I smirk.

“Out with it.”

“ok, okay” he holds out his palms. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

I can’t keep the gloating out of my face. He looks sheepish. “That’s the funny part. That was my first.”

He gives me a mock glare. “Cut it out, Liz.”

“Cross my heart.” I reply cheekily and another Catherine’s wheel is lit, as if to lend credence to my words.

We fall into companionable silence, sometimes broken by my oohs! and his occasional jokes. We watch, mesmerized, as the night sky lights up with the hue of the fires and every possible colors of the fireworks. The sound of each cracker exploding quickens my beat, making my heart pound with excitement. The bagpipes follow in full swing, each increasing in crescendo, close to the climax. I feel as if this is all new to me. In a weird sense, it is.

They’ve saved the best for the last.

They start the preparation for it. This one’s a little complicated, Sean had briefed me in before and apparently, it was going to blow people away. At least, I hope not literally. But the prep was supposed to be fancy. I struggle to watch over people’s heads but it’s a lost cause.

He takes pity on me and extends his hand. “Let me.”

I hesitate. Oh, what the fuck, it’s Midsummer Night, for God’s sake!! I grab a hold but he shakes his head. “That way, you won’t be able to see a damn thing.”

I howl in frustration. I could hear the crowd getting noisier. “They’re probably done!” I pout.

Max rolls his eyes and grasps me by the tummy. I let loose a shriek that gets lost in the excited roar of the crowd.

I twist around sideways to gape at him at the same instant he lifts me up partway.

I see the candles being lit one by one. A blowtorch is ready and waiting at the edge. A redhead, hair glinting in the fierce light, grins cockily and shoves it down. Flames lick its way towards the gunpowder. A countdown starts and I forget all about spies and disasters. That’ll come later.

I clutch my hands over his, partly trying to quell the butterflies, partly out of adrenaline. His warm fingers singe my bare stomach, because, horrors (not!), my top has ridden up.

I hear him behind me trying to hide his guffaws at my gushes but I‘m too happy to care. This is too perfect.

I see people run away from the edge and then, like the first broiling thunder, it soars up to the skies, leaving ashes and vivid explosions in its wake. My head falls back to take it all in and I hear his muffled gasp. I lift it up again, giving him space to watch this majestic sight, share this moment. He seems as transifxed as I am, not moving his head. The earthy fragrance of burning kindling reminds me of a long-lost song and goose bumps flash. Another host of light follows the lone one in a dragon formation, spraying the black cloak of the night with a mist of flames. There’s a poetic savagery in the way flames engulf the blinking stars from our gaze.

I squeal, with about a hundred other people and his fingers, for one instant can’t resist tickling me. I squeal some more. His breathing hardens and after making sure I’d seen everything, he gingerly lowers me to the ground. Our bodies graze against each other in odd shivers. I can’t get down fast enough.


“Phew!” I sigh happily, content. Wow! And I do mean all of it. He rubs at his fingers. “Too heavy, am I?” I ask apologetically.

He snorts. “Hah!”

I preen and we burst out into another fit of laugher.

“So, you think I’m a stalker, do you?” he asks, as we calm down.

My eyes sneak a peak at him but he’s calm, not mad. Not the raving lunatic Alex had mentioned.

“Error in judgment.” I concede magnanimously. His eyebrows go up. “You’re a very nice stalker.” I amend.

‘Why, thank you, Liz. How very big of you.” He says drily. “Hey, I’m serious. Let me know when it’s crossing the line.”

I stare at his flushed, averted face rapturously. Wow!! I’m actually speechless.

“Got nothing to say?” He searches my face for signs of disapproval or sarcasm. He finds something akin to wonder and that gets his color up again. Aww!!

“For all your arrogance, Mr. Evans, you really are awfully nice.” I tell him.

His eyebrows rise again. “Arrogance?” he queries. “How’d you figure that one, missy?”

I match my own to his raised one. “You mean you didn’t find the slightest smidgeon of arrogance in that last statement?”

He laughs again, guiltily this time. It’s, like, when we get together, we giggle like kids all the time. I can’t decide if it’s annoying, corny or just plain sweet. Sweet. It’s probably sweet.

“Agreed. I’m arrogant. What else?”

“My, my! Quite the strutting peacock.” I murmur and he tries to look wounded but failsmmiserably.

“Peacock? Now I’m of the feathered variety?”

We exchange another bout of no-hold-barred laugh. He seems eager. “So, what else am I, besides a nice stalker and pompous, arrogant fowl?”

I choke, trying to ward off another fit. “Fowl??”

He looks at me rather pointedly. "You said it, I didn’t.”

“Okay, okay! How about…” I cast about for a word that would indicate my wildly growing interest in him but could keep is light enough. None came to mind. Think, Parker!!

“…nice!” I bestow a sunny smile but he shakes his head.

“Can’t repeat.”

Aha! “Spirited.” I say coyly.

His eyebrows hit his hairline. Clearly, that had been straight out of left field. “Aren’t peacocks supposed to be dainty things?” he teases, desperately trying not to look over-pleased by the sudden turn of events.

I’m not put out that easily; if being with Alex has taught me something, it’s to be persistent. Haha!!

“My mistake. You’re not dainty.” I run my inexperienced eye over him, sure he could see through my excessive flirtations. In the middle of my perusal it hits me; what the hell am I doing? I drop my eyes as if he’d burned me and wish desperately to take it all back.

“Then what am I?” he asks, softly this time. “Repugnant?”

My eyes fly to his face, the denial written all over me. I don’t even need to say a word. I think he understands. Because, just as I drop my eyes in shock at my own wantonness, he grasps my hand. My head ricochets back up. He swings it gently; this harmless touch hidden from disaster by the dancing bodies.

I can tell from the look in his face that he wants to ask me to dance. He wants to as much as I wish he would. Neither of us dare make another sound.

“Max, I didn’t call you a stalker.” I manage after a while. After I’ve managed to swallow that monster in my throat.

“I know.” He assures me. “It was just Alex.” He sighs.

“Uh-huh.” I nod.

“I’d like to ask you to dance.” He admits, looking at me with an odd longing. My toes shrivel. What is this dizzy feeling? “But...”

I know.

As I open my mouth to talk, a haunting melody rings out through the crowd, commanding silence. I gape at the slight slip of a blonde girl who’s just taken the mike and opened her mouth. Sound that pours out is Irish tenor at its best. We stand still, spellbound by the magic.

After the initial shock wears off, I smile at Max. “If not a dance, how about a song?"

“Aye.”


Bonfires dot the rolling hills
Figures dance around and around
To drums that pulse out echoes of darkness
Moving to the pagan sound.


Somewhere in a hidden memory
Images float before my eyes
Of fragrant nights of straw and of bonfires
And dancing till the next sunrise.

I can see lights in the distance
Trembling in the dark cloak of night
Candles and lanterns are dancing, dancing
A waltz on All Souls Night.

Figures of cornstalks bend in the shadows
Held up tall as the flames leap high
The green knight holds the holly bush
To mark where the old year passes by.

I can see lights in the distance
Trembling in the dark cloak of night
Candles and lanterns are dancing, dancing
A waltz on All Souls Night.

Bonfires dot the rolling hillsides
Figures dance around and around
To drums that pulse out echoes of darkness
And moving to the pagan sound.

Standing on the bridge that crosses
The river that goes out to the sea
The wind is full of a thousand voices
They pass by the bridge and me

I can see lights in the distance
Trembling in the dark cloak of night
Candles and lanterns are dancing, dancing
A waltz on All Souls Night.

I can see lights in the distance
Trembling in the dark cloak of night
Candles and lanterns are dancing, dancing
A waltz on All Souls Night.

And from there it goes on, the aria reaching into everyone’s hearts, making the blood thrum powerfully in our veins, the entire scene so poignant and so memorable that shivers would be a mild comparison. The violins resonate in accordance to her high, angelic tones. Max’s throaty baritone mingles in my own soprano, and we sing. The flames that still haunt the skies falls a gentle rain of ashes on us, light and shadows veiling us slightly, lending a mysterious air around an ordinary crowd. It’s anything but ordinary.

I feel another shudder but there’s someone to share the moment with me. Our eyes meet as we both sneak a glance at the same time. Another unstoppable smile bursts out before either of us can control it. I shake my head at my own weakness and he’s a got a similar look in his eyes.

This is getting SO out of control!


Song by Loreena McKennnit.

After a long and lengthy absence, I've resurfaced. First off, I realize that the story is moving with the pace of a fast-dying snail, lol, but I'm utterly unable to help it. It was always gonna be a long one and for those still interested, I hope this is a fair warning. That said, I still don't intend to to leave this unfinished, so let's take it from there.

Quick recap - Liz is from East Belfast and Max from West Belfast. It's not just two sections of the city, rather the division is made up more of ethinic, religious and political factors.

Given mutual hatred on both sides, Max and Liz's friendship (and budding romance, yes;) ) is not only unnatural but very much open to hostility, misperception and danger. Both has connections deep into the warring factions.
By two acts of unselfishness, they've bridged the gap, somewhat, between the divide and while both are idealists, they also understand the trouble they'll get into if anything happens between them.
They last met at the bonfires of Midsummer Night celebrations, were impossibly attracted to each other and we'll take it from there. This summary is to help update readers on the status of Max and liz's relationship. Like I said, it's been a long time.


Previously...
I feel another shudder but there’s someone to share the moment with me. Our eyes meet as we both sneak a glance at the same time. Another unstoppable smile bursts out before either of us can control it. I shake my head at my own weakness and he’s a got a similar look in his eyes.

This is getting SO out of control!

~~/\~~


Max POV
The Airport.


I must be in love. Why else would I be obsessing over something that took place a good 10 days ago? I sulk at the plastic chair where I was sitting, waiting for my flight, demanding an answer for my strange mood swings. It stares back at me dully. Figures!

I shift in my chair, unable to stop fidgeting. It’s my first trip outside the goddamn country, first time I’m on my own. The freedom is supposed to be winging its heady way to my brain. Guess what? I’m still obsessed with Elizabeth!

My cells wander back to where they want to stay. Elizabeth. No, Liz. She asked me to call her Liz. I’ve already called her that.

“Arrrgh!” I buried my head in my hands, looking for distraction.

Don’t fight it, Max. Give in. You know that’s what you want to do all along… A traitorous voice sounds inside, making my gushy self leap all over the excuse. And then it adds the best part I’ll never tell. It has the same ring of soft promises and vibrant eyes, and rapturously, I concede defeat.

I stare out the window, replaying that night for about the 57th time. And still, I never get tired of seeing that look on her face, that gorgeous smile. How does someone like that not already have a bloke? Maybe she’s playing with me! Maybe that’s all there is to it.

And why I enjoy thinking the worst of Elizabeth, you tell me. I’m too much of a chicken to admit it, even to myself.

After Maria’s song had finished, I’d left Liz. She’d been enchantingly disappointed. Yeah, can’t you guess? That disappointed tone in her voice had me thinking explanations that would put Descartes to shame. Was she interested? Stringing me along? Putting me in a trap? I scowl at the ugly thought but a rational squeak reminds me that it could be a sliver of a possibility.

Anyway, back to Liz. So she said goodnight and all that. And we both waited. Her for me to leave evidently, and me for her to let go of my hand. But she didn’t and I’d to suppress a shitload of guffaws and finally broke the rather shocking news that in order for me to leave, she’d have to let me go.

I chuckle involuntarily at the memory of her stunned face. She’d almost snarled out why? And the she’d noticed it; we were still holding hands and she wasn’t letting go. Her mouth had fallen open, rather inelegantly (but I thought it was cute. NOW you see??) and all of a sudden, she was a good 10 yards away and nursing her hand like it stung. She’d rather snottily demanded why I didn’t pull away, since I was obviously in a hurry. Me, being me, came back with a rather winning one-liner. What you ask? You don’t want to know. I mumbled something inane about not having something better to do. Imagine her response to that.
You’d think a guy who’d made quite an impression all in the space of a couple of hours, would know better that to conveniently blow it all off! Jeez, where was I when they were giving free handouts to learn the opposite sex? Probably reading a goddamn book!

“British Airways flight for NY, boarding now.” The invisible, monochrome voice filters in my head. It’s time.

The security check is routine. They shove me aside and proceed on a rough search all over, in full view of other departing passengers. I hear a few hushed whispers of “West Belfast.” And “IRA”. Nothing out of the ordinary. After much humming and hawing, they let me through.

As I settle down, the excitement starts building again. Finally! I watch as the jet starts taxiing off the runway. Belfast falls away from my view. I relax. Thank god for small mercies. For the next week, I aim to enjoy myself. And not think about her.

“Omigod!”

I tear my eyes away from the receding Irish coast to look for the highly shocked expletive.

Them it was my turn. “Well, bugger..." I trail off.

Sitting across from me in the third aisle, is none other than Elizabeth Parker. We gape at each other.

The passengers in the entire row glanced back and forth, interested. Quickly, I drop my gaze.

Damn. Now what do I do? I can’t just sit here like a chump, after seeing her. It just isn’t done. On the other hand, she can’t possibly be traveling alone. Maybe that guy’s there with her. Or her folks. So I should do absolutely nothing.

But, my mind reasons, if she weren’t traveling alone, would she have dared make that sort of a revealing sound? Especially directed at me? Doesn’t seem like the Liz I know.

So, I wait for my chance. Next time, she looks over, I’ll do something.

She does no such thing. Getting out a tattered diary or something, she starts scribbling furiously. I stare at it intently, willing her to look over. Nothing.

I try harder. Still nothing.

I focus all my energies in that direction, taking a word off Maria’s book. She looks up instantly. I feel my face going into fire-engine red mode because I am probably glowering like Frankenstein.

As normally as I can, I fix my face and go back to the window. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her getting up.

“Is this seat taken?” Another voice rings out.

I look up, expecting to see Liz but instead, it’s another woman.

“Huh?” Then I notice Liz standing a mere foot away. Obviously she’d intended to come over. Taking it as a rebuff, she starts making her way back.

“No. You can have them both.” I leap out after her. Liz stops, turns back.

Her grin is very knowing as she nods towards her own seat and adds “There’s an empty seat over there.”

“How’re you doing?” I ask, sounding rather eager. Too eager, as I watch her smile broadening.

She settles down cozily, hiding the diary. I can’t help but ask, “You’re writing in a journal while on a flight?”

“It’s not exactly a journal entry; it’s more of a letter to my grandma.” She’s already glowing. “I can’t wait to get there!”

Oh well, both mine are dead. I say nothing.

“So, why’re you going there?” It’s an added thrill as we keep our voices low and our faces close together. I can breathe in her perfume (and she wears a nice one!) something that hadn’t given me much rest since Midsummer’s Night.

Her voice lowers and she gives me a conspiratorial smile, eyes slightly narrowed. “Contraband? Guns?”

I laugh. “Nothing that exciting. Just for college, you know.’

She looks a bit miffed. “You’re already in college? But I thought…”

“Nah…. just checking them out. I still have two years to go.’

She looks relieved. Hyuk! “Oh. Okay. So, which colleges?’

Something tells me that she knows all about this and more and that I'd make an arse out of meself by trying to sound intelligent about it . “ Don’t know yet. I’m looking everywhere.”

She throws me off guard. “Maybe we could do it…uh, together?”

Now why didn’t I think of that?

“Are you out of your mind?” I hiss and she’s stunned.

“What? Just because we’ll be in a different country doesn’t mean that word won’t travel!”

“It’s my grandma.” She says quietly. “She is not like that.”

“Yeah well!” I can’t believe the things flying out MY mouth! I can’t believe the scale of my idiocy. “So long as it doesn’t get back.”

She turns away, a definite glower in her face. “Sorry for wasting your time.”

Well, chump? Care to help yourself out, even a wee bit?

“Liz…" I start, not knowing how to explain.

“Save it, Max!”

“I was worried. It’s hard to knock off old habits.” I can’t believe that I’ve been reduced to whining. Me!

“You know what your problem is?" she throws back at me.

I shush her, looking around. A few people on the next aisle chuckle discreetly.

“You think you’re a know-it-all. It’s all about what you think, right?’

She starts again, before I can negate the accusation. Her delicate pinky pokes me in the stomach and my eyes bug. She doesn’t care.

“Wrong! The world doesn’t revolve around you, Evans!”

“Did I say it did?”

“You didn’t have to!”

“Liz,” I grin slyly. Hee, if she’s red now, she’ll be purple by the time I’m through. I don’t know why I get such a perverse pleasure out of riling her. She’s still glaring at me, all red in the face and doing her best to look intimidating. I’d be intimidated if she hadn’t been so darn cute.

“What?”

“We’re arguing like an old, married couple.”

I delight in her aggravated, quasi-screech. I’m right. She’s nearly a glorious shade of purple.

“Well?” I enquire pleasantly. Her scowl’s none too thrilled.

“I don’t believe your…!”

“Arrogance? Chicken manners?” I supply and reluctantly, she smiles.

Well that wasn’t too hard, was it? Piece of cake.

“If it’s not a problem for you, I’d be delighted to comply.” I make an exaggerate bow, as much as my seat would allow. She looks slightly mollified.

“Like I said, don’t do me any favors.” She snuffs.

“Aw, the pleasure’s all mine.”

She settles back. “So…”

I get a rush of blood, just looking at her. This is bad! “So.”

“That girl who sang was fabulous.” She says after a while.

I beam. “She’s my best friend.”

There’s more than healthy interest in her eyes. “I see.”

“Yeah. We grew up together. “

She frowns a little at the fondness in my tone. I smirk inwardly but keep it steady.

“Um. So, “ she inhales.

“What?”

“Doesn’t your girlfriend mind? You going to America without her?”

“Why should she?” I reply, closely watching her reaction.

She looks down, gulping in disbelief. Oh boy, she looks mad. “Oh!” Her tone is sharper.

“When she doesn’t exist.” I blithely add.

She scowls, not amused by my underhandedness. “I see.”

It’s a long flight, I think we can both safely get used to silence. It’s a while before she talks again.

“How’s your brother?”

“He’ll live.” I mutter. I really don’t want to talk about him.

She shoots me a look from under her lashes. The silent sympathy should’ve rankled, should’ve hurt but it didn’t.

“You worry about him a lot, don’t you?”

“Who wouldn’t?” I mutter again, not liking the conversation.

She looks a bit worried herself. “Is he a…Provo?”

This conversation is so pointless. And I feel myself growing defensive as always, and nothing pisses me off more. It was bad enough that she had reason to be scared of Mark, a damn good one, and she was right about him; she didn’t have to rub it in.

“Look, lady, if you wanna call the police, go ahead. But save the whole damsel-in-distress routine. You’re not in any danger.”

Her face turns a mottled shade of red. The cream of her cheeks suffuses with vivid red, her brown eyes narrow and turn onyx. I’m spellbound and something tells me this is just the start.

“How do you know I’m not in any danger?”

Come again? “What’re you talking about?” I demand. Did Mark actually…?

She starts to say something and then changes her mind. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so judgmental.”

We’re both quiet a while.

“You’re entitled to it.”

She looks at me and there’s something more in that dark gaze than I can understand. “So are you.”

“Well, yeah.”

Another silence. The plane dips and unconsciously we’re both rigid.

“Liz?”

She clutches the armrest, almost gouging out my arm as the jet dips lower and does an 100 degree roundabout.

I take a hold of her soft, little palm and it’s moist. She really must be terrified of flying. “You scared?”

She straightens and scoffs. “No.”

I laugh, “Then why gouge out my arm?”

She pulls back. And the next instant, she’s almost on me as the window near her is lit up in savage green and purple. The electricity travels right from the Plexiglass to her arm and on to me. We both squeak at the ferocity of the lightning. The boom of the thunder draws simultaneous shrieks all around.

I draw her close and offer to switch seats. She shakes her head and stares in fascination at Nature’s brutality. And I’m so busy inhaling her perfume that it would take a cyclone to get my attention. At that instant, her head snaps into my nose. The plane grapples up some imaginary mountain and I’m seeing a sight more than yellow birdies.

“OW!”

She whirls around, this time her temple hitting me dead on. I’m ashamed at the sudden tears smarting my eyes.

“Shit! I’m soooo sorry! Oh, god!” she babbles, punching the steward sign with all her might. No one answers. The turbulence was too much. Her arm swings and this time, I cower away.

“Liz, please! Sit still!” I growl and she’s still. Phew.

The plane hits another bout of storm and lightning bolts illuminate the rain. I’m wondering why I ever came on this trip.

She touches my face and brings it around. Her eyes look very dark against the pallor.

“I won’t be surprised if you decide to tour Boston on your own," she concedes miserably.

The cabin lights flicker and I’ve the oddest urge to turn her face up and kiss her. Yeah. Right. Like that’ll so happen.

“Are you crazy? Why would I miss all the excitement?”

She snorts, “Right.”

“Seriously, why would I?”

She gives me a strange look. Our heads nearly collide as the plane goes on a neat swan dive. Just what was the pilot doing? Liz murmurs the same thing almost instantly. We both smile. And then she goes all serious. “You really…should.”

“Should what?”

“Miss all the excitement.”

“Like I said, make me.”

“Max!”

“I’m serious!” I enjoy sparring with her. She’s intelligent, funny and vivacious and for the life of me, I can’t think of a single reason not to pursue her. She’s probably the most intriguing I’ve ever met.

The light is bad, so I can’t tell if that’s a smirk of triumph on her lips. “And here I was, thinking it wasn’t...oh what was that again, safe!”

Chalk it up for Elizabeth. She’s been just riling me on all this time.

“I’ll get you yet.”

Then she does the strangest thing. She wiggles three fingers in my face. “Oooh, promises.”

And I think I’m the one blushing this time.

GUYS!!! OMG, I thought this was still in the Dead and Buried forum! EEEK. Well, thank you all for your sweet words, and yes, I'll have an update just as soon as I finish Flip Side. That'll be real soon, I promise. Oh, gawd, now I feel like a total fool.

Thanks, folks.

Hugs,
Sarah