Hello, my beauties
Believe it or not, chapter 21 might actually provide you with some answers, because Liz is finally taking matters into her own hands. That's what happens when Max pushes her away and leaves her to her own devices...
Roswelllostcause - Sean is definitely more dangerous than Max. Max mostly views himself as dangerous and he considers himself a dangerous impact on Liz's life. Liz is possibly a very important girl. Not just in Max's eyes
Thank you for the feedback!
dreamon - Yep
Thank you
L-J-L 76 - Your gut feeling on this one is probably correct; Sean is dangerous. And he won't leave Liz alone just yet. Thank you for the feedback and
thank you for the bump!
AlysLuv - Max is really not that much into sharing information, no
Thank you for the feedback!
Eve (begonia9508) - Sean; a vampire? Hmm... I can finally say that you'll get some answers in this chapter.
Morning Dreamgirl
Gah! You always did have a knack (if not a secret joy) for torturing us with your chapter endings.
Being noble hasn't really worked these last few days as it's just given Sean the opportunity to get closer to Liz (even without her wanting him to).
Yup.
I'm just hoping that no one was able to see what was happening as Max was shielding them from Sean. Given the location of the shed I imagine no one could but someone's always watching.
I can assure you that there was no one else around to see them.
Can I be the first in line to box Max's ears? I just want to shake the boy! You've written him amazingly well with a darker/edgier side than we normally see which is refreshing. But I just don't know how to slap some sense into him! At some point he's going to have to say "screw it, it'll be harder but she'll actually be safer with me."
Thank you
I'll let you scold Max as much as needed, because you're right: Liz would be safer with him than without him.
Thank you so much for the (lengthy
) feedback!
Carolyn (keepsmiling7)
Maria trying to play match maker when her services are really not needed.
Haha. True that!
Thank you for the feedback!
Alien_Friend - So sad to hear that you've been unwell. I've missed you here. I hope you're feeling better, and as you mentioned, at least you had a couple of chapters to marathon-read now.
Wow so there is more than Iz, Michael, Max as the aliens? Very interesting. There seems to be a whole community.
It sure seems like that, doesn't it?
The whole situation is really confusing for Liz, but maybe with this chapter she'll get some answers... Thank you so much for the feedback and I hope you're feeling better.
From TWENTY:
I bit my bottom lip, biting back the threatening tears. “I deserve some answers, Max.”
He shook his head, looking at me sadly. “No. No, you don’t, Liz.”
He looked towards the door and the hairs at the back of my neck stood up, alerting me to the fact that we were no longer alone.
“You need to get some rest, Ms. Parker,” Max winked, his mask back in place, hiding his guilt and sadness to the unpracticed eye. But I could still see it there. Lurking. Hiding untold secrets. “It’s way past your bedtime.”
“Whatever,” I grumbled, trying to fall back into the role of the disgruntled Elizabeth Parker. But the unshed tears were burning my eyes and my legs felt heavy carrying my leaded heart.
“Liz, come inside,” Maria said softly behind me and I nodded, my eyes still trained on Max’s face.
My breath hitched in anticipation as Max took two confident steps towards me, trapped my eyes with his for a long second, before leaning in and gracing my cheek with his warm lips in a soft lingering kiss.
I froze while my body heated. He had never kissed me before. I - nor my body - didn’t even care that his lips were on my cheek rather than on my lips. It was still an earth shattering experience.
His breath was warm against my ear as he whispered, “Bye, Liz.”
I couldn’t reply, couldn’t speak. My throat was clogged up. Instead my hand brushed against his in a fluttering caress as the sound of a car pulling up made us separate.
Max’s ride had arrived. And with a sense of deep foreboding, I watched him climb into Isabel’s car and leave.
____________________________________
TWENTY-ONE
1. How is Max able to heal?
2. Why did Sean’s dad beat up Max?
3. What REALLY happened to mom? Why was she sick? How did Max know about it?
4. Why is Sean so interested in me?
5. WHY DID I KISS SEAN?!!!
6. Why are Max and Sean no longer friends?
7. How did Max make us disappear - turn INVISIBLE?
8. Why was Max’s dad so horrible? Too scary to be a doctor!
9. Why did Max go to the hospital to learn from his father?
I sighed, scrunched up the paper with my notes of ‘One Million Questions’ and threw the ball of paper into the paper bin.
A second later, I had retrieved it from its disposal, walked into the kitchen, switched on the garbage disposer and used a wooden spoon to push the ball of paper towards a macerated destiny.
You could never be too careful with information…
I had decided to reclaim the control of my life. I was done being played as a confused and emotional victim. Apparently, Max had been serious when he had told me goodbye five days ago. He had not even been at school since that night.
But if Max didn’t want to give me the answers, I would take matters into my own hands and
find the answers.
Yes, I knew that Max had told me to stay away. That it was too dangerous. But I really didn’t care what happened to me any longer.
My throat clenched and I corrected my inner monologue. That wasn’t entirely true. I cared that it would hurt my dad if something were to happen to me. I didn’t want to cause him any more pain than he was already living through.
But some detective work would surely help to distract me from my grief and divert me from reflecting on where Max was.
*****
“Hey, Alex,” I said when my friend answered my phone call.
“Lizzie,” he announced, the happiness in his voice hitting me with instant guilt over being basically absent from his life these last couple of weeks.
And to make matters worse; I was only calling him today for a favor.
Ever the sweetest guy ever, Alex added with concern, “How’re you holding up?”
“Eh,” I replied vaguely, not wanting to say anything that might make me lose the feeble control over my feelings. Alex had a way of making me feel seen, which usually meant that he could make me feel everything I needed to feel in front of him; make me laugh when I was happy and cry when I was sad.
“Sorry for going MIA on you,” I added, wanting to let him know that I was aware of ditching him.
“Don’t sweat it, Parker,” Alex said softly and my breath caught at the warm concern embedded in the warm nuances of his voice. Highly in tune with the increasing tension of the conversation, due to me trying not to break down and tell him just how miserable life was without a mother, Alex cleared his throat and asked in a lighter tone of voice, “How can I help you?”
I frowned. “How did you know that I needed your help?”
I swear I could hear his smile over the phone. “I’ve known you for a long time, Lizzie.”
His observation made me match his presumed smile before I hastily got my question out, “How do I get a hold of public records?”
He chuckled. “They’re
public, Lizzie. Shouldn’t be a problem finding them.”
I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn’t see me. “Yeah. I know that, doofus. But practically - where do I find them? Do I have to contact specific departments? Agencies? Are they free?”
“They’re supposed to be free,” Alex replied tentatively. “I guess the easiest way is to acquire them online. I’ll check for you, okay? I’ll get back to you in no time.”
“Great,” I breathed in relief. “Thanks, Al.”
Yep. Alex was my musketeer. My savior when it came to information retrieval and everything IT. Five minutes later, he had emailed me a couple of links for different online searches through public records and twenty minutes into the search I had acquired information on Max’s grandfather - Mr. George Evans. No. Correction:
Dr. George Evans.
Huh. Must run in the family.
I scrolled through the general information on date of birth, date of marriage, number of children and so on, until I noted that he was not born in Roswell.
He had moved here, in 1949, when he was just a kid.
I opened a new tab in the browser and pulled up a search for Diane Evans - Max’s mother. Her ancestors had lived in Roswell for the past 90 years. She was born and raised here.
Perhaps…
The hunch rippled through me with adrenaline as I typed ‘Sean Carter’ in the search field. After finding the right Sean and gathering the first name of his father, coldness swept through me as I noted that Sgt. Steven Carter’s father - Sean’s grandfather - had, as a child, moved to Roswell in 1949.
From what I could tell, Max and Sean’s grandfathers had nothing in common. Well, except for the fact that there was no information on their grandfathers’ parents. They were both listed as ‘orphans’, but there was no known address to a previous orphanage, before coming to Roswell, and while Max’s grandfather came from California, Sean’s came from Minnesota.
Reaching for the glass of water next to me on the bedside table, I started typing in the grandparents of people I knew, people at my school. Especially the ones at the party I had attended the night before - with the rich and the beautiful.
I pulled up the White Pages and, together with Google Maps, pulled out names of people living in the most expensive parts of Roswell. Subsequently, I entered those names into the public records search engine.
Three hours later, I leaned back against the wall with a monotone dazed buzzing sound in my head. I stared at the screen, where I had gathered names in a text document.
The total number read 153.
153 families where the generation born in the late 30’s or early 40’s had all been orphans and moved to Roswell in 1949. Like some kind of mass immigration.
Or mass invasion…
The thought disturbed me. Was this the connection I had been searching for? The connection that bound Max and Isabel’s dad together with Michael’s father and Sean’s dad?
Maybe they were all related somehow. Maybe that’s why they were all so beautiful.
I scrunched my nose and took another sip of my water before mumbling to myself, “No.”
If a large part of Roswell was the product of some incestuous family, they would look a lot more similar.
The children of the ‘1949 Orphans’ (as my mind had started to call them) had all earned a considerable wealth, meaning that the 153 families I had recorded were all families with deep pockets. And I hadn’t even searched every citizen of Roswell, only the people in the nicest parts of Roswell.
I stilled, resting the cool water glass against my bottom lip in thought. What about my parents? Did they have anything in common with the descendants of these orphans? Did my
mom have anything in common with my ‘suspects’?
I hurriedly placed the glass of water on the bedside table, closed my laptop, jumped off the bed, winced at the momentary sharp flash of pain in the skin of my burnt abdomen, pulled out my backpack and proceeded to push my laptop into it before slinging it over my shoulder and exiting the room.
Dad was watching TV.
“I’m going to the library,” I told him, my voice hurried. He tore his eyes away from the screen as I whirled past behind him.
“Be careful,” he mumbled, like I was going someplace a lot more dangerous than a building with thousands of books.
I stopped, retraced my steps, leaned down over his shoulder and placed a brief kiss on his cheek. “Love you, Daddy.”
I could hear the tears in his voice as he murmured, “Love you too, Ella.”
Ella. That nickname again.
I brushed off the mixed feelings it brought and rushed out the front door.
*****
I stared at the yearbook photo from the graduating class of 1974 in shock, at the linked hands between Steven Carter and my mom, Nancy Parker, née Green. I tried to swallow against my dry throat as I moved my trembling hands to the black and white photo of Nancy Green and Steven Carter sharing a smiling kiss in front of the camera.
They were high school sweethearts. They were voted ‘Most likely to marry’.
With a sharp jab in my heart, I realized that they looked happy.
Mom had never mentioned Steven Carter. She had never spoken of that romance. All I’d ever heard of from my parents’ friends and families while growing up, were of how meant for each other my dad and my mom had been. How they had fallen deeply in love - a fairytale ’love at first sight’ kind of thing.
Why had mom never talked about Steven Carter?
I shivered.
The same man who coldly beat up Max.
The glimpse into Max’s memory flashed through my mind and I closed the yearbook with a heavy thud.
So. What had happened? Why had they broken up? Even if I wanted to believe that my parents had only ever had eyes for each other, Steven Carter and mom
had looked very happy together. Was it because of Sgt. Carter’s future occupation? Mom
had on occasion expressed a mild annoyance with the military. My mother had been a true pacifist, wanting everyone to solve their problems intellectually rather than with violence.
Max’s broken and bloody face flashed before me. Obviously, Sgt. Carter hadn’t shared my mother’s beliefs.
“Hey, Liz,” a very familiar voice said, the metallic legs of the chair next to me scraping against the floor as it was moved to accommodate Sean’s tall lean body.
I glanced at him, before looking down at the yearbook in front of me, fully intending on ignoring him. I struggled not to let the coldness wrap around me at his proximity. I definitely didn’t want it to show on my face.
“So you’re not talking to me, are you?” Sean asked.
“Please, go away,” I said, my eyes focused on the book in front of me as I turned another page, without actually seeing what was on the page.
“I feel like something went really wrong at that party,” Sean said, obviously ignoring my plea for his removal.
I refrained from snorting at the ridiculousness of his guess. Of course something went wrong. He threatened Max - by indirectly hinting that he would do something to me. He followed me out into the garden in the middle of the night, taunting me, claiming he had found my phone when he really hadn’t.
When I didn’t reply, he continued, “I was just trying to help you. To find your phone. Someone had taken it out of your bag-“
Yeah, and it was probably you.
“-and then you were just gone. Why did you leave like that?” He abruptly laughed quietly, as though
I was being the ridiculous one in this scenario. “It was like you were running from me, or something.”
I leaned back in the chair, crossing my arms over my chest and looked to my side at him. His eyes were large and crystal blue in the white library light. I could see how my actions could seem odd, having just disappeared on him that night. I couldn’t quite explain it myself, having been hit with the acute need to get out of there; convinced that Sean was up to no good.
But I couldn’t really tell him that.
He was still giving me the shivers.
“I really wanted to leave that party,” I told him, instead. “Those people there were kinda…freaking me out.”
He frowned, an amused incredulous look on his face. “They were? How?”
I shrugged, donning the fake role of an insecure teenager. “It’s stupid.”
“What, Lizzie?” Sean asked, his tone softening at my hesitant appearance, and I was tempted to correct him about using that nickname.
It’s
Liz to you, mister.
“They were just so beautiful. I felt like a complete outsider.”
“You shouldn’t,” he objected, his voice subdued as he leaned in closer. I stiffened, the nails of my fingers digging into the top of my thighs, the action hidden under the table surface.
“You’re beautiful, Liz,” Sean continued softly. “A lot more beautiful then the girls at that party.”
“Thank you,” I mumbled, embarrassed. I had to admit, it was actually rather nice of him to say that. But it still did nothing to calm my intuition.
He’s dangerous.
Max’s voice sifted through my head and I inhaled deeply.
“It was just a really bad night for me,” I clarified and considered using the ‘Grief card’.
Before I had to contemplate that decision further, Alex came around the corner, spotted me and shone up like a spotlight.
I breathed a mental sigh of relief.
Thank God for your impeccable timing, Whitman.
“Parker!” Alex erupted, giving Sean a quick glance before ignoring him completely.
I almost laughed at Alex’s antics. Alex was not the most handsome or attractive guy. In fact, he was considered a bit nerdy, with his computer skills and his hobbies consisting of flexible arm movements in which he performed silly tricks in front of viewers with varying interest. But even though he really wasn’t at the top of the High School Food Chain, he didn’t let anyone boss him around and treated people the way they deserved to be treated.
Apparently, Sean Carter deserved to be treated as air.
Alex grabbed the chair on my other side, scooted really close to me and pulled the yearbook out of my hands. “Whatcha doin’?”
“Research,” I answered, shooting Sean a glance that Alex followed.
We’re not alone, Alex.
He looked up at Sean, his face serious. “Dude. Do you mind?” Alex looked at me for a second, “Or did I interrupt something?”
“No,” I replied, pushing my desire to laugh back. “Sean was just leaving.” I looked at Sean, who was watching me with dark, angry eyes. I suppressed a shiver of danger and suspected I was playing with fire when I added with carefree cheerfulness, “Weren’t you, Sean?”
I felt more powerful, more secure, with Alex seated next to me.
“I’ll find you later,” Sean bit out, scraping his chair backwards and leaving his seat.
Alex and I watched him go, and when we were certain he was out of earshot, Alex put his arms around me and hugged me tightly.
I tensed in confusion. What was that about?
“That was weird,” Alex mumbled against my ear and I started to relax in his familiar embrace.
“What? Sean?”
“Yeah.” Alex pulled back, letting me go.
“I guess,” I mumbled, pulling the yearbook back from Alex.
“According to Maria, he’s kinda stalking you.”
I rolled my eyes at Maria’s dramatic choice of word, but I knew that she was right. Sean
was basically stalking me.
“It’s partly my fault,” I said, unintentionally excusing Sean’s behavior.
“Oh?” Alex raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “How’s that?”
“I was kinda leading him on.”
Alex snorted and leaned back against the back of the chair. “
You? Leading on a
boy?”
I grimaced and nodded. Alex searched my face, his features slowly turning serious. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” He frowned with disgust. “Liz! Sean Carter?!”
I frowned. “I know.”
“
Sean Carter?” Alex repeated incredulously.
I sighed. “Come on, you don’t have to make such a big deal out of it.”
“I just thought your standards were higher than that.”
“They were!” I defended myself. “I don’t…” my voice turned into a mumble, “I have no idea what happened.”
He raised two shocked dark eyebrows. “Something happened?”
Humiliation colored my tanned cheeks and I mumbled under my breath, “We went on a date.”
“You what?” Alex practically screamed, earning about twenty annoyed
’Shhh’s’ from surrounding library visitors.
“Calm down,” I hissed, bending my head closer to his so that he could hear my whisper of, “We went to Joe’s Diner and we…we…”
“Oh my God,” Alex’s eyes widened into large saucers. “Something else happened?”
“He kissed me,” I said quickly, wanting to sink through the floor. I couldn’t justify my actions with Sean. Couldn’t even understand them. And to then have to admit them - and explain them - to my friends was embarrassing.
Alex just stared at me. That couldn’t be good.
“Wait a minute,” he said slowly. “Sean was your first kiss…?”
I rolled my eyes at him and bumped my shoulder into his. “No, silly.
You were.”
He matched my eye roll. “That doesn’t count.” He caught my look of faked indignation and hurried to add, “Even though it was - of course - the best first kiss
ever.”
I laughed softly. “Whatever, hot shot.”
“But seriously,” he frowned. “What possessed you to become close and personal with Sean? Do you even know the guy?”
I shook my head slowly, guiltily. “Not really. Well, not until a couple of weeks ago.”
“Hmm.” Alex leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. “And Max Evans?”
I froze at the sound of his name. “What about Max Evans?”
“Maria wouldn’t stop talking about it. How you two are having serious sexual tension or something and that you just need to do the nasty and get it out of your systems.”
Heat exploded across my face and I dropped my eyes. I couldn’t even find words in the midst of the mortification I felt. I dearly loved Maria, but did she have to butt into everything personal?
“He’s…” I trailed off, fiddling with the corner of the closed yearbook from 1974, seriously avoiding Alex’s eyes.
“He’s what?” Alex asked gently, coaxing me into speaking my mind.
“He’s…” How should I put this? “He’s a friend.” I glanced up at Alex, noted the support on his face and felt more at ease to continue. “He’s kinda been helping me out after my mom died.”
“That’s nice of him,” Alex mumbled, turning introspective, and I wondered if he was hurt by the fact that I had turned to someone I didn’t even know for support and comfort, instead of himself - someone I had known for a very very long time.
“He just showed up,” I continued. Wanting to explain myself. “I didn’t even know him; never figured him for the caring type, you know.”
Alex grimaced with understanding, seemingly sharing my confusion about my relationship with Max. “More the arrogant, narcissistic type.”
I swallowed back the brief shot of defensive anger I felt at his remark. He didn’t know Max like I did. No one did. Just a couple of weeks ago, I would be right with Alex on this one.
“Right,” I replied, my voice unconvincing.
Alex scrubbed along his right eyebrow. “Sooo… You have
two boys after you, right now?”
I gave him a sheepish ‘Figure that’ smile.
“Huh.” Alex didn’t seemed too surprised, despite me having been single my whole life, barely showing any interest in the opposite sex. Instead he hitched his chin in the direction of the pile of yearbooks in front of me. “Does your sudden eligible bachelorette status have anything to do with your interest in the public records and your need to read through 40-year-old books?”
I hesitated for a moment, scanned our surroundings to make sure that we were out of earshot from any other library guest, before I leaned in, lowering my voice, “I don’t think my mom’s death was an accident.”
Alex paled, his features going slack, his mouth falling open and his pupils dilating. He didn’t say a word and I felt my heartbeat escalate with apprehension. His reaction was more intense than I had anticipated.
I found myself whispering, “You okay?”
He blinked to life, opened and closed his mouth twice, before, “Why…how-“ he cleared his throat, “What makes you think that? You think she was
murdered?”
I took a deep breath. It felt weird to actually finally talk about this. I had been having so many discussions and theories in my head lately; I had almost gotten used to being on my own in this.
“Right before she died, she had been very tired, looking really sick.”
He frowned. “What was wrong with her?”
I shook my head. “We never found out. She promised to go to the doctor if things got worse, but she…she never made it there.”
I pressed back the sob, hurrying to continue. “There have been some really weird things happening lately; things I haven’t told anyone about. Things that have made me consider that the fire might’ve just been a cover-up. To hide my mom’s disease, or whatever she was affected by.”
Alex’s eyes widened and he whispered, “This all sounds a bit-“
“Odd?” I suggested, before nodding grimly. “Tell me about it.”
“And you think that Sean is somehow involved?” Alex asked.
I froze. “What makes you say that?” I hadn’t mentioned Sean in this context at all. Not even alluded to it a little bit.
Alex hesitated, making me grow wary of his reaction. He laughed nervously and shrugged. “Nothing. I just… He started hanging around you about the same time that your mom died, right?”
"Yeah," I said slowly, looking closely at Alex.
“But he’s just a kid,” Alex said, and I could see the strain on his face as he struggled to act nonchalant.
“Yeah,” I said again, scrutinizing my friend. “You’re not saying that you think he was in any way involved in my mom’s death?”
Alex flickered his eyes away from mine and shrugged again. “Not exactly. Just… Well, I just figured since you mentioned both Max and Sean in about the same context as your mom’s death…”
A chill ran down my spine and I shifted back from the friend I would trust my life to. I had lost my temptation to share my theories with him.
And I couldn’t even really explain why.
Alex looked up at me and smiled softly. “What makes you think that she was murdered? If she actually had symptoms of something before the fire; maybe she fell asleep without turning the stove off or left the iron-”
I shook my head, diverting my eyes to the yearbook, as I interrupted him, “Forget about it. It’s stupid. I guess… I guess I just don’t want it to be true. I want some other explanation to why she’s dead, you know.”
I felt his eyes burn into the side of my face as I started collecting the yearbooks.
“Did you find the answers you wanted?” Alex asked and I looked at him, seeing him hinting towards the books as I rose to my feet.
“Nearly,” I mumbled, hugging the books to my chest. “Sorry, Al. I have to go. My dad is going to worry.”
Alex looked at me sympathetically, and an inexplicable feeling of betrayal rushed through me. “Of course. Take care, Lizzie.”
“See you around,” I said and left him at the table to return the books before rushing home.
*****
I quickly shut the door to my room behind me, speedily pulling out my laptop from my backpack and opening the lid. The computer screen sprung to life at my last opened window; the public records.
I felt my pulse beat all the way out to my fingers as I typed in ‘Alexander Whitman’.
My anxiety levels escalated as I looked up Alex’s parents and next his grandparents.
All the air sucked from my lungs as I stared at the information being displayed beneath Alex’s maternal grandmother’s civil status;
Relocated to Roswell, New Mexico, in 1949.
My breathing was harsh in my ears as I stared at that reoccurring year.
1949
And it all, suddenly, made sense.
My parents had owned an alien-themed restaurant for most of my life.
I had served alien fanatics breakfasts and curious tourists lunch for the past nine years.
I had, out of general boredom, tricked several of the customers into believing that I myself had been exposed to alien activity. That I had once witnessed what could only be explained as a UFO in the night sky, that the radio would sometimes change channels on its own and that I had experienced the inexplicable concept of missing time.
Against that background, the year of 1947 was forever imprinted into my mind. 1947 was the year of the alleged alien crash in Roswell; the incident that had put Roswell on the map. That had made this small desert town attract tourists like honey attracted bees.
Was it a coincidence that only two years later, the ancestors to the majority of the present inhabitants of Roswell, moved to Roswell?
Was it a coincidence that the offspring to one of those ‘immigrants’ could heal with the touch of a hand?
The laptop shook in my trembling lap, but I didn’t notice. Panic was seizing me from within, spreading out to every crevice of my body.
My hands were shaking badly as I saw Max’s before my inner eye, remembered the feel of his large hands fan across my body and his reluctance to admit to the world that he had this magical gift.
Aliens.
I bit my lower lip until I drew blood.
Aliens. They were aliens.
Alex’s smiling, goofy, face sprung up in my mind and deep betrayal made the first tears crawl out of my eyes.
They were all aliens.
TBC...
