Part 21
Posted: Mon Apr 09, 2012 7:32 pm
Author's Note: Hi everyone! I know I've been away forever, but rest assured, I am still working on this. I had initially planned for 21 to be all one chapter, but the length of it all is getting away from me. I have only gotten through half of what I wanted to happen in the part, and it is already well over 30 pages. So, in the interest of not leaving you guys dangling for more than I already have, I cut it off at what seemed like a good stopping point to me, and will continue writing the rest. As I said before, now that Jordan is a bit more fleshed out, I am turning my attention to the other half of his dynamic duo, and I'm really curious and apprehensive as to how she'll be received.
I hope you guys enjoy, and as always, feedback is welcome! I will reply to the feedback from the last part as soon as I get home. Traveling, for all its good points, has some really bad ones as well. Hope everyone had a Happy Easter!
21. Inconvenient... (Part 1)
Once upon a time, there lived a young girl. For the first few years of her life, everything was perfect and wonderful. She had many friends to play with, a big back yard and delicious snacks waited for her at home every day. There were the usual inconveniences here and there, such as never enough dollies to go around at daycare, and the annoying twist of fate that made it her lot in life to never win the rights to the last swing in the yard whenever she played the dark haired girl for it, but these little wrinkles aside, life was sweet.
A fair haired child, she had been blessed with a cool blue gaze and a beatific smile, and at home, away from the playground politics, she was showered with hugs and kisses, the apple of her parents eyes. Sometimes, she had the fleeting wish that there could be someone to play with at home too. At the playground, everyone seemed to have a best friend, or at least, the dark haired girl, with her serious eyes and annoyingly engaging smile, seemed to be thick as thieves with the other blonde girl who came to the same playground, the one who never stopped moving or talking. Although the little girl was never short of friends, she didn’t have a best friend, and best friends were special, because they were there for you always, you could share secrets with them, and they would even sleep over, so being at home wouldn’t be so lonely. The girl’s parents loved her, she knew, but they were both very busy, and were often not at home. Then one day, her parents sat her down and told her that she wouldn’t be alone anymore- she was going to be a big sister.
At first, she had been upset, worried and fearful that her parents would love her less when the new baby came. She had rushed away and hidden in her secret spot in the backyard and allowed herself the luxury of tears before she sniffled to a stop, reminding herself that crying made one ugly and tired. Besides, she was six years old now, almost seven, really, and seven year olds didn’t cry- that’s what babies like Lizzie Parker did. Calmer, the girl realized that having a baby brother or sister might be a good thing; she would be the boss, and could teach him or her the proper way to do things. They would play together, keep secrets…they would keep each other company when Mommy and Daddy were away, so neither of them would be lonely. And she would love and protect them, because that is what big sisters did. Decided, the little girl had left her spot, and then announced to her parents that she was pleased about the news, and if her baby sibling could please arrive by the next week, because it was Bailey Holt’s party then and she wanted to show the baby off. Her parents had laughed, and told her it would be a while before the baby came and to be patient. The little girl didn’t like that part very much, but she agreed.
While she waited, anxiously, for her sibling, life continued on as normal. If she wasn’t Queen of the playground all the time, that was certainly more than made up for at home, because her parents let her help them decorate the new baby’s room, and even let her pick out toys she thought they might like. The little girl was getting even more anxious now, because she still didn’t have a best friend, while Lizzie Parker and crazy Maria DeLuca had somehow gotten the new boy, Alex Whitman, to be theirs, even though he was a boy and had cooties. Although the girl outwardly scoffed at this, inwardly, she was a bit jealous; people tended to follow what she said or told them to do. It was nice, but people who were afraid of you didn’t turn out to be very good best friends.
Her baby brother was born on a sunny day in the middle of summer. The girl was seven and a half, and ecstatic; her parents, jubilant. When her mother and the baby came home from the hospital for the first time, life was even better than before. Sure, her baby brother couldn’t play yet, and seemed to spend a lot of time sleeping, eating and pooping, when he wasn’t crying his head off, but for all that, there was no one she loved more. When he would wake up and look her in the eye, and give her one of his toothless grins, he seemed to be telling her the same thing too. She couldn’t wait till he grew a little older, to when she could start showing him all the best places to hide in the yard, and all the best things to eat. She didn’t even mind that Lizzie Parker always beat her in tests at school, because Lizzie didn’t have an adorable baby brother, now, did she?
Sadly, one year later, neither would she.
High summer. It was only 6am and it was already scorching hot. The shrill shriek that echoed through the house had her sitting up so fast she was dizzy. She could hear her mother screaming, her father’s pounding footsteps and worried shouts- and then she was out of bed, and racing for Jason’s room, only he was sleeping still, through the horrible noises their mother was still making and the broken gasps of their father.
Only he wasn’t sleeping.
The day after they left him in the ground next to Grandpa Sam who she’d never met, the difference in the house was stark. It was quiet now, and it felt wrong to laugh, when Mommy secretly and not so secretly cried, and Daddy was as sad as he packed up Jason’s things. The little girl’s heart hurt every day, because she missed Jason so much, and more than that, she missed her Mommy too. The lady who came home from the graveyard that day wasn’t her mommy anymore. She was different. Sadder. Broken.
As time went on, she was no longer their little princess, so the girl strove harder than ever to be Queen at school. There, she succeeded. If she still didn’t have a best friend, then so what? Her group was loyal to her, and wouldn’t leave her, not like the sibling who simply didn’t wake up one day, or the distant mother who was leaving behind a daughter who longed for her still, or the father who was in denial about it all. Life, if no longer sweet, was tolerable at least. She never admitted that it was lonely. Not even to herself.
The years went on, and the girl grew steadily colder. If anything hurt her, or made her sad, it was carefully concealed behind a mask of cutting indifference, until her tongue and her manner were feared throughout the school-and no one could guess that behind that icy, prefect façade lay a girl who felt as unloved and unnoticed as the most invisible person at the school. One reason, of many, that Liz Parker irritated her, was that the girl was the complete opposite of this, and didn’t seem to care. She wore her heart on her bloody sleeve, was hopeless at hiding how she really felt, and damn it all, but the world somehow seemed to find those big brown eyes irresistible, and was completely enamored of the girl. It was completely unfathomable. Didn’t she know that emotions, feeling something so deeply and openly, were the fast track to a lot of pain and loneliness? Apparently no one had told Liz that, but she would learn. Some people just learned earlier than others.
A few more years passed, and at home, the girl’s mother no longer cried, and her father worked as twice as much. Tears had been exchanged for slightly more regular drinks at dinner for her mother, and denial exchanged for an even more absentee father. If it hadn’t been for the early morning breakfasts he always made sure to have with her, the girl would have doubted that her father even lived there at all. On the cusp of leaving childhood, during one of the rare times that the family was actually out together, when for once, it felt like a throwback to the golden days when she had been young, they heard the news. The Parkers had been hit by a driver that had lost control, and their car had careened off the road. They had died upon impact, and Liz Parker was now an orphan.
It was strange, how tragedy had a way of waking people up from their self induced stupors. Her parents had somehow been jolted into alertness, and had actually seen her, actually acknowledged her existence. At the funeral, the girl had discreetly studied Liz, and noted that all the emotion was still laid out bare, but this time, there was a glaze of stunned shock in the girl’s eyes. Their little family had visited Jason’s grave together for the first time in years, and when they had gone home that day, it had actually felt like they were taking steps towards becoming something real again. Somewhere, a part of her felt saddened that this turn of events had come at the expense of someone else’s life, a feeling that intensified the first time she had seen Liz Parker after the funeral. She and her group were at the CrashDown, open again after two months, now under the management of Liz’s Uncle and Aunt, when a veritable thundercloud had rolled through the café. She had barely recognized Liz at first. This girl was a glaring, scowling, mess and even Maria and Alex had given her a wide berth as they trailed her.
The town’s sweetheart had turned into a spitting, roaring, dragon, and although the girl was initially sympathetic, she couldn’t understand why everyone was tolerating it. Had everyone cared this much when Jason had passed, and she suddenly became invisible at home? Did anyone spend time crooning about what a shame it was that own her mother had barely been able to look at her for months after the burial, or that her father had become a ghost? Or was this simply more of a tragedy, because it was Liz Parker, and the world seemed destined to love her? There were many times when she wanted to shake the dark haired girl, to show her that she was hurting everyone who for some reason cared for her so. She had lost her parents yes, but she wasn’t alone. Far from it. Starved of attention and care for years, the girl had developed a keen eye in detecting what she so lacked, and she saw that Liz’s Aunt and Uncle loved her immensely, and duo of DeLuca and Whitman cared for their friend as fiercely as their own blood.
So although she was tempted many times to confront Liz, and somehow shake her back into the land of the living - she didn’t. Somewhere, she got a deep satisfaction at seeing the girl who got everything in life handed to her on a silver platter finally having to taste bitter reality. Perhaps that was cruel of her, but it was something everyone had to learn sometime, and now it was Liz’s turn. It didn’t escape her notice that their fortunes seemed to be inversely connected; while Liz spiraled into anger, the girl’s own home life was improving tremendously. She was just now getting used to being seen by her parents again-it felt nice that they were looking at her and not wincing as they remembered another fair haired, blue eyed child. It felt like her life was finally getting better again, something that was only further confirmed when he moved into town.
That morning hadn’t started out too well. She had been late to school, as part of her parent’s new
leaf, the early morning breakfasts that had been the last vestiges of her and her father’s relationship had expanded to include her mother, and they were to be held every day without fail. Today, her parents had been preoccupied with squabbling with each other, and she had been absorbed with trying to act normal in spite of it. As such, she had shot out of the car as soon as her father had screeched into the school parking lot, and had of course smacked right into some other tardy person. Scowling, she had prepared to lay into the unfortunate person who was responsible for making her even later- but she found that she couldn’t.
He had extended a hand to help her up, and seemed unperturbed that he had knocked her down, although he was apologetic. All signals that he was new in town, if the fact that she had never seen him before wasn’t clear enough indication of that. Someone she had grown up with her whole life would probably be cowering in fear now, or staring at her in a weirdly adoring manner, but not this boy. When they were both standing, he was exactly her height and when he had introduced himself as Max Evans, the newest 8th grader at West Roswell Middle School, he had smiled, and the girl suddenly felt like a dozen little butterflies were trying to escape her stomach. Her mind had seemed to go all foggy, and her one recurring thought was that he had the prettiest eyes she had ever seen on a boy.
It was a very unsettling feeling.
The rest of their five minute encounter included leaving him at Principal’s office, and an uncharacteristically halting introduction of herself. He hadn’t seemed to mind that, or the ridiculous blush that claimed her cheeks when she was done. As Max had disappeared into the office and she collected a pass that excused her from tardiness as a thank you for being kind to a new student, she decided that perhaps even Queens needed Kings sometimes, but only if they were good enough, of course.
Max Evans turned out to be good enough. Better, even.
It wasn’t simply that he was good looking. There were other boys in Roswell who were good looking, like Kyle Valenti, for instance, but Kyle’s smile didn’t make her stomach feel all fluttery, and meeting his eyes didn’t make her feel like her carefully collected façade was in danger of cracking. Max didn’t let her fearsome reputation stop him from talking to her, and the girl was glad of this. She wasn’t blind or deaf to the less than admiring sentiment that surrounded her sometimes, and it was a relief to see that Max seemed to want to form his own opinions. In his first weeks of school, the fact that he always said hello to her when she passed by his locker (never mind that it was out of her way) elevated her already lofty social standing to even greater heights. It said something after all, that the cutest, nicest guy to come to their school in a while was already an admirer. That was good, because she was certainly an admirer of his.
She couldn't help but notice that he was sincerely interested in getting to know everyone he met, whether they were popular or not, paying real attention and remembering whatever they said. It certainly didn't hurt that his natural talent in sport made him a favorite pick for any of the school teams. He was smart too, never unprepared in class, but offhand enough about it that he didn't come off as obsessive. In the short time he had been at the school, he had already amassed quite a following, although, as luck would have it, the person Max Evans spent most of his time outside class with happened to be Liz Parker.
The girl thought this was the height of unfairness; even when Liz was being an absolute beast, the fates seemed bound and determined to shower blessings her way. As it stood, Max was saddled with Liz as his welcome committee (a role she had volunteered for herself, had lost to Liz, and had many times considered petitioning their teacher to take over) though the dark haired girl was treating Max terribly and not been very welcoming at all. In spite of this, he remained civil, and even pleasant to the surly girl. It only made him more charming, and made the fair girl more determined to know him, because if someone like Max, who would willingly spend time with Parker the terrible, could see that she wasn’t so terrible, maybe it was time to start relaxing around her group too.
The girl had just decided that she would offer Max an invite to her circle of friends, and was proceeding with her entourage to the lunch area where they would settle and then find him, when the sound of muted shouting reached her ears. She had halted immediately, and was rewarded by the sight of Max and Liz seemingly having it out in a deserted classroom. Her group had giggled, and then quieted as they watched and surreptitiously tried to listen to the words being exchanged fast and furious between the two. The words were important, yes, but the girl was much more interested by the expressions on their faces, and the emotions in the eyes that had so captivated her. Max was staring at Liz with the most intense look, and though anger and frustration came clear through it, there was something else there, something desperate, and fierce, and not at all to her liking. With a square of her shoulders, she had proceeded onward, her friends quickly following, and she decided she would have to move fast. She had lost so much to Liz Parker over the years. She would not lose Max.
The next few days made her think she might not have to suffer through that after all. Liz remained as curt and unpleasant as ever, and now, even Max didn’t make an effort to reach her. Then the fifth day dawned, and showed her just how wrong she was. Whatever Max and Liz had been screaming at each other about seemed to have dynamited Liz out of her permanent thundercloud. In the weeks to come, a new group seemed to materialize out of nowhere, with the unholy trio reunited and as annoying as ever, and even more, they had grown, adding gangly Isabel Evans, Max’s non-existent, braces clad twin, and messy haired Michael Guerin to the mix. In the middle of it all, Liz Parker was back, charming and funny, and cute enough to fall just shy of awkward, even though she made that look endearing as well. The whole world seemed to fall at her feet once more, embracing her right back into the fold like a favored daughter. Worst of all, Max Evans looked like he was falling right along with them.
Their daily locker conversations ceased, because now Max always dragged Liz to his locker before her first class, in an attempt to get her to converse with people she had made a habit of avoiding when she was being the hostile hermit. When the girl did go out of her way to drop by, Max was never anything but nice and pleasant to her, although it was obvious he was more than distracted with his unruly mission of mercy. As such, she found it even more difficult than usual to treat Liz with the kid gloves or unflagging awe that everyone else seemed to automatically bestow on the girl. This didn't exactly endear her to Max, and so, in order to preserve her good standing with him, she generally avoided being around the pair when they were together. Which was all the time.
And so, as time went on, she continued to watch Max, longing for him from afar, and became invisible again to the one who mattered most to her. Parker gained three more best friends, and still the girl remained alone. What was worse, she was now caught in the bittersweet tendrils of affection that seemed wholly one sided, and she was at loss for what to do. No one could know, for they would think her weak, and it was humiliating to admit even to herself that she had lost to Liz, again. She was tired of being second best to the girl, when there was no clear reason she should be. Even her improving home life provided no respite, for although her parents paid more attention to her now than they had in years, it was only to push her to become better, study harder, start laying down the groundwork for a future that seemed inconsequential when the guy she had a crush on barely seemed to acknowledge her existence.
The girl was 14 now, and undoubtedly the prettiest, most popular girl in her class, with all the good and bad that came with that title. It was high summer, with school having let out two weeks before, and this was the part of the year that she hated most. Her house would become just a bit quieter, the one glass at dinner would become two, and long absences would become even longer. It was almost a relief to have the weather cool as the leaves browned, because then her mother would wake up again, and her father would come home at a decent hour. The girl loved fall; summer was for sadness, for Jason. Fall was for beginnings; fall was for living again, for fate to finally bring her best friend into her life.
Fall was when she met Jordan Connor for the first time.
And she knew she would never be alone again.
“ Dairy products go over there! Turkeys into the deep freezer, and let’s all try to keep away from the pumpkin pie, please!”
The commands flow out fast and efficient, and although you would be forgiven for thinking that the blonde wielding the clipboard is Isabel Evans on another event organization rampage, today’s dictator is none other than Maria DeLuca. As junior class president, she is tasked with pulling off a couple of events in the year, and right now, we are in the midst of a running a donation-station in order to gather Thanksgiving Day supplies for the less fortunate. Things are running surprisingly smoothly, which in my opinion, is a testament to both Maria’s skills at corralling (read: terrifying) her volunteers into completing their tasks and said volunteers desire to leave as quickly as possible. Preferably before Maria finds more things for everyone to do.
I finish assembling the last care package that will complete my quota, and I heft it over to where the rest are waiting. On the day before thanksgiving, teams of volunteers will go out in shifts to deliver the care packages, taking turns to go out at different points in the day. There was the requisite mad scramble for the most coveted spots, at actual decent times, but there was really no need for this. All the crappiest time slots have already been filled neatly by Maria’s usual minions in these matters: mainly Michael, Alex, myself and the Evans twins. I don’t really mind, as long as I am assigned the latest time slots; I think we are all painfully aware by now that morning and I are a bad combination.
“ That’s my 12 done, Izzy.”
Before me, Isabel eyes my pile with a critical eye, fluffs the ribbon I’ve made so that it’s prettier (to my exasperation and amusement) and adds a check mark by my name. All right. I guess Maria isn’t the only blonde wielding a clipboard today; but seriously, this is Isabel Evans we are talking about. When it comes to planning, she and her fluorescently bright turquoise clipboard are practically symbiotic. “ Great. And you’re all set for delivery night?”
I nod in confirmation. “ I just have to pick up my list of addresses to hit and I’ll be all ready.”
“ Oh, I gave those to Max already. He has the list.”
Despite my best efforts, I blanch, and Isabel’s sharp eyes immediately register the uncharacteristic action.
“ Is that a problem?”
I let out a breath slowly, and then hitch up what I hope is a convincing smile. “ Why would it be a problem?”
The look she levels at me indicates that it apparently wasn’t convincing enough.
“ Maybe because you look like you’re about to throw up?” Isabel supplies helpfully. I roll my eyes at her and very maturely tell her that I am not going to throw up, thank you.
She ignores this, and frowns at me in concern. “ What’s the matter? You and Max have had the same route, at the same time, for years. You’ve fought Michael relentlessly for this time slot too, and you know he hates getting up early as much as you do.”
This is true. The mere fact that I have successfully stolen the last time slot from under his nose time after time is testament to how much I hate the other extreme shift (practically the crack of dawn) and how awful Michael is at foosball. You would think he would change the game by now, but Michael’s even more stubborn than I am, and he refuses to accept that he is less than perfectly athletic at anything. Still. All this is besides the point.
I fidget, and when I meet Isabel’s brown eyes, I sigh. I open my mouth to grudgingly admit what has had me on pins and needles ever since the Convention, when Max and I stepped into the shoes of intergalactic royalty, and had to pretend to be in the throes of an intensely passionate love affair. There have been several nights now that I’ve had vague, confusing dreams that don’t make sense, and wake up with nothing but a recollection of a deliciously warm weight draped over me, and a glittering flash of intense honey eyes searing into my soul.
Needless to say, despite his very generous compensation, the chance to hang out with actual TV stars and his unending gratitude, I am not Milton’s biggest fan at the moment.
“ I just- I just want to be sure Max doesn’t have any other plans for that night. You know. With Thorn girl.”
Isabel’s eyebrow rises in question. “ I’m pretty sure brother dearest knows his own schedule, especially if it involves,” Here, her nose wrinkles slightly, “ a date with his girlfriend. And if he can’t remember that, well- thank God you’re off the job, right?” She peers at me. “ You ARE off the job, aren’t you?”
“ Yes!” The assurance trips off my tongue quickly. “ Of course I am. But even if Max doesn’t have plans, she might have plans for them you know?” Confusion is still evident all over Izzy’s face, so I reveal the source of my consternation. “ I don’t want to have a repeat of the Convention, okay?”
That revelation got the confusion to clear up right quick, but now, she tuts at me and shakes her head in disapproval. “ Are you still hung up about that?”
“ It’s sort of hard to get un-hung up about it when she won’t stop glaring at me every free second she has, Iz.”
“ And this is unusual how?”
I throw her an irritated look, but I relent a second later, because she’s right, and she knows she’s right, judging by the smug look she’s giving me. I sigh and shrug in surrender.
“ Fine, fine. So that part’s not really anything new,”
“ But?”
My fingers find each other and tangle fretfully. “ But this is the first time I actually feel like I did something to deserve it,”
Isabel and I stare at each other for a few minutes and then she shakes her head at me.
“ You can’t be serious.”
“ Izzy-”
“ Liz, listen to me, all right? Whatever scenario you’ve made up in your head that somehow has you at fault for the whole Convention fiasco, forget about it. How you even came up with that is beyond me.”
“ Gee, I wonder if might have anything to do with the fact that I’m the reason he was there in the first place?”
“ Okay, now you’re just being irrational.”
“ I’m not being irrational! I’m just…I just feel really terrible about the whole thing, especially since it happened so soon after the whole dinner fiasco.”
Isabel at least has the grace to look embarrassed at the reminder of the catastrophe, but she recovers quickly. “ That wasn’t your fault either.” She mutters.
I rub at my eyes wearily. “ Yeah, well. There’s a lot of that going around. And funnily enough, every single time it’s not my fault, I somehow end up looking like I’m doing everything I can to wreck their relationship.” Isabel makes a sound of protest, but even she can’t deny how this looks and after a few minutes, it is her who sighs. “ You know I’m right.”
“ All right, fine. I can sort of see where you’re coming from,” I snort and she ignores this, continuing to speak. “ But it doesn’t change the fact that you haven’t actually DONE anything Liz. If you’re going to guilt trip yourself into a frenzy about something, can’t it be at least over something you have done?”
“ What? Why would I want to do that? I don’t LIKE guilt tripping myself Iz. It’s not exactly an enjoyable thing you know!”
“ Well could have fooled me, you do it to yourself so often. Look. You’re not their Cupid anymore, so please try to curb your natural compulsion to fix things for everyone. If Max and Jessica really want to have a go at this thing…they’re going to have to do it without a baby sitter.”
I level her with a look that says I am deeply unimpressed. “ That would hold a lot more weight if you guys weren’t trying to sabotage them at every turn.”
“ Adversity is how we grow stronger Liz.” At my disbelieving look she shrugs at me. “ What? Seriously. If they can survive us, they will definitely survive high school. And if they survive you then they will make it all the way to the altar.”
All of this is delivered in a very matter-of-fact tone, as if all this information is somehow freely available and accepted knowledge. Which is completely crazy. “ Where do you get this stuff? No, don’t tell me, forget I asked. Can’t I just split the list with Max? We would get done a lot faster.”
Isabel opens her mouth, presumably to argue with me some more, when a new voice breaks into the conversation.
“Why would you want to do that?”
The new voice belongs to Maria, and Isabel greets her with a bright smile.
“ Oh good. You’re here. Reason with her please, I did the best I could.”
I sigh in exasperation and throw her a glare, to which she responds with a meaningful look, and a reminder to “Let it go already, Liz!” before leaving me alone with my best friend to harass Michael and Alex instead, who are currently attempting to build a pyramid from frozen turkeys.
Maria’s blue-green eyes are curious as she studies me. “ Let what go?” I frown obstinately, because really, I have no desire to go over the whole sorry tale a second time, but Maria being Maria, she narrows in on the issue instantly.
“ Are you still beating yourself up over the Convention?”
Ugh. How does everyone do that? There is a split second where I am about to launch into a denial, but instead, deflate, and mutter a sullen,
“No.”
Which of course doesn’t fool her at all.
Maria groans. “ Liz.”
“ If you’re going to tell me it’s irrational, can we skip it? I already went through the whole thing with Isabel.”
“ Well clearly we need to go over it again, because it hasn’t sunk in for you,” She scans the room and seeing that Isabel has Michael and Alex well in hand, while Max is conveniently on the other side of the room receiving last minute donations, grabs me by the hand and sits me down at a table. Glumly, I cross my arms over my chest and prepare to be obstinate. Unfortunately, I forgot that this is Maria DeLuca, the Queen of Obstinate. And Michael is her King.
The thought makes me smirk, but I quickly wipe it away once Maria sits down opposite me.
“ You sure you’d rather be sitting here with me than yelling at Michael and Alex? I think they’ve moved on to juggling the yams now.”
Maria waves a hand unconcernedly. “ Isabel’s all over that.”
This is true, judging by the screeches coming from that direction. I sigh and hunker down, meeting her steady gaze with one of my own.
“ Well?”
“ I’m just trying to figure you out, Lizzie.” I stiffen, because Maria’s using her calm and sensible tone of voice, which means she is bringing out the big guns. Great. I drop my gaze to the table and start to trace designs on the smooth wood.
“ Yeah, let me know how that goes okay?”
“ I know you can’t be blaming yourself for Milton ending up two actors short that night,” She muses, completely ignoring my statement. “ Even with your overly developed guilt complex, you can’t possibly think it was truly your fault that those two got lost in Vegas. So that’s not the problem.”
I frown at her and stay silent, and she continues to study me, and really, at this point, I’m content to let her. When it comes to how I feel these days, everything seems to roil together in a great thundercloud, and trying to make heads or tails of it does nothing except invite a headache. Listening to someone else’s take on the madness that has become my norm might not be so bad after all.
“ Which leaves…Max. As usual.” My eyes narrow at this, but I hold my tongue, and Maria continues. “ When we were younger, you, me and Alex…we were the three the musketeers. Do you remember?”
I glance back up at her, surprised by the sudden change of topic. My response is immediate, automatic. “ We still are.”
The answer light of affection in Maria’s eyes lessens my reluctance at being at this table and she nods in acknowledgement. “ That’s true. But we’re…different now. When Alex and I got together with Isabel and Michael, we stopped being the first people you would always call whenever you got yourself into some crazy situation that could only ever happen to you.” She smiles gently at me. “ You know it’s true.”
“ Well I…that’s not because I thought you guys wouldn’t come! It was mostly that I didn’t want to intrude in case you and Alex were busy with Michael and Iz. I always knew you guys were there for me, even if I wasn’t dragging you out of your beds at 2am anymore.”
Maria smiles at the memory. “ Was that the night you got accidentally locked in the library at school?”
I blush. “ I-well. Yes, actually it was.” I fidget a bit. “ Um…not that I don’t appreciate this happy diversion, but what does this have to do with-”
“ Who do you call now, Lizzie?”
“ What?”
“ Humor me. Who do you call?”
Again, the answer is immediate, automatic. “ Max. I call Max.”
Maria nods as if my answer has confirmed her thoughts. “ And there it is. The real reason you’re so tied up in knots about all this.” She shakes her head. “ He’s always been the one you call and now…you’re spinning because suddenly you feel like you can’t do that anymore. With me and Alex, it wasn’t so bad, because you love Izzy and Michael and you know if you were to call us when we were with them, they wouldn’t care, and they would come too. But its different with Max. ”
“ I don’t-”
“ Yes, you do. It’s why you’re trying to distance yourself from him now. Because unlike when Alex and I started dating, and you still got to keep us, you’re not sure if that’s going to happen with Max. You’re looking at having to be without him when he’s always been there for you-since the day you guys first met.” This time, her gaze is sympathetic. “ And you think if you take a step back from him like you did for me and Alex, you might not get him back.”
Maria’s astute observations make me shift in agitation, especially because she’s managed to take the thundercloud inside me and separate it into discrete little tangles of the current complications that run my life. “ Max and I will always be friends,” My opening response sounds weak even to my ears, and I shrug helplessly. “ But I can’t expect him to drop everything and come to my rescue, whatever the time is, anymore. Not when she’s around to consider now.”
“ So to circumvent that, you’re just not going to hang out with him anymore?” She reaches out and covers my hand. “ I know you feel really bad about how the Convention turned out…but that wasn’t your fault. How could you know what Thorn girl had been planning to do? It was really sweet.” The admission looks like it’s cost her, but she recovers a moment later. “ And therefore, totally unexpected. I mean, name me one person who wasn’t shocked. It’s not exactly in her repertoire you know?”
“ Okay, fine, I get it. It wasn’t my fault. But what about the next time? I don’t want to keep coming between the two of them, Maria.”
Maria snorts. “ Hon, you do that just by breathing.”
“ What?”
She shakes her head. “ So not touching that one. Look. Try not to obsess about this so much, okay? You’re just driving yourself crazy, and you’re forgetting one gigantic part of it.”
I tilt my head to the side in question, and Maria leaves me hanging only briefly before she has to stand up and join Isabel’s efforts to get the turkeys squared away.
“ What would Max think about what you’re trying to do?”
The words hit home, and I know he would be furious. I groan. “ Would he maybe see the sensible side and realize I’m trying to make this easy for him?” Maria simply raises an eyebrow at me and I slump back into my chair. “ That’s what I thought.”
She nods and then gives me a sympathetic pat on my shoulder. “ Sorry, babe. But you know, there is one thing that could fix all this.” The mischievous sparkle that always lives in Maria’s eyes is back in full force, but underneath that, I see that she’s being completely serious. I shake my head again, intent on warding off the words I have heard so many times I could recite them in my sleep. Besides, she is so wrong. Revealing my biggest secret wouldn’t fix things, more like blow everything to kingdom come.
“ Don’t say it,” I warn.
“ Say what?”
Max’s voice comes from right behind me, and I jerk in surprise. I scowl up at Maria, and the answering laughter in her eyes tells me that she had been aware of Max’s impending approach and is now content with leaving me to deal with the fall out.
“ Oh nothing. Just that confession is good for the soul, and Lizzie here would benefit from a few of them. Or maybe just one?”
I sigh. “ Goodbye Maria.”
Her work done, my best friend leaves with a trailing giggle behind her. I shake my head ruefully, and consider the possibility that in some other life, Maria might have been the goddess of chaos. Lord knows, she’s scarily adept at leaving a trail of destruction in her wake. Case in point.
Max sits at Maria’s newly abandoned chair, a curious look on his face. I fidget for about two seconds, before I take a deep breath, and start off with a very brilliant,
“ Hi.”
Amusement mixes with the curiosity, and Max grins at me. “ Hi. Do I want to know what that was about?”
“ Probably better for your long term mental health if you don’t,” I answer truthfully. I look around and realize that our little group are the only ones left. “ No more last minute additions?”
“ I think we’re done.”
“ Great.” My fingers drum a nervous staccato on the table and then my question spills out before I can stop it. “ So about delivery night, are you sure you’re good to do our route?”
Max raises an eyebrow at me. “ Last time I checked yeah. Why do you ask?”
“ I just…it’s the night before Thanksgiving. I thought you and Th-Jessica might have plans maybe. Because you‘re probably not going to be able to spend Thanksgiving day together, what with it being a family holiday and all-unless you are? In which case, it won’t matter if I have you for that night, right? ”
In the lull that follows my rushed and tumbling questions, it finally settles that I have just asked him if was okay that I have him for a night. I can almost hear Maria cackling away in my head, and clear my throat to distract myself from the rising heat in my cheeks. I swear, there used to be a time every other word I uttered didn’t embarrass the hell out of me. Where did those happy days go I wonder?
Max, thankfully, has chosen to overlook the less innocent implications of my sentences, but his eyes have slimmed in thought. “ Liz, what are you really asking?”
And here we go.
“ I’m not asking anything. I just…I just want you to know, Max, that what I said a few months ago still stands. Things with Jessica take precedence…and assuming that you’re going to always be able to drop everything and come running out at any time of the night isn’t fair.” I stare at his face, register the suddenly tense jaw and I know what I have said has upset him, but it has to be done. “ I’m not saying that just because you have her now, you wouldn’t come. I’m just saying-”
“ What? What are you saying? That you shouldn’t ask?” He looks angry for some reason, almost betrayed.
“ Well should I?” I am frustrated and tired and this comes through in my voice. I don’t want to lose Max. That has been the driving force behind this entire thing, this is what makes me clamp down tight and suppress anything else I feel for him, and now it appears that despite everything, it is going to happen anyway.
My life sucks.
“ You’re one of my best friends Liz. What do you think?” He asks sarcastically.
“ I think that because that’s true, I should be making things easier for you rather than harder,” I fire back.
“ Have you met my other best friends? They don’t share your sentiments.”
“ That’s my point exactly. If I can make it easier for you, then I damn well will.”
We glare at each other and break eye contact at the same time, Max looking off to the side while I drop my gaze to the table once more. I don’t even know what we’re really arguing about now, and I don’t think Max does either. There is so much being left unsaid, that the thundercloud Maria had successfully untangled, or at least pared into manageable chunks just seems to grow bigger and bigger. I glance around absently and realize that the room is empty, and I cannot help but laugh raggedly, in part amusement and exasperation. Still scheming. I’m not sure that I’m really surprised.
Max has realized we’re alone too, and he sighs, bringing my attention back to him.
“ Look. I appreciate what you’re doing for me and Jess, Liz. Especially because I know you don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things, so it means a lot that you’re still trying to make this whole thing as painless as possible.”
I almost smirk at his wording, it’s clear that Max doesn’t have high hopes for the attempt, but then again…neither do I. He catches this, and shoots me a warning look and I quell the smile. “ But? ”
“ But…you are…important to me. And I don’t ever want you to think that just because I’m dating someone, that will change. ” His eyes are warm, and filled with the intense light that I’ve seen so many times but have yet to decipher. When he looks at me like this, I can almost pretend it’s because he feels the way that I do as well. “ Jess gets that. So don’t worry, okay?”
I want to believe what he says wholeheartedly, and just continue on like everything is the same. But the mention of Jess, the untouchable ice queen who has somehow managed to capture Max’s heart stops me every time. Every time I have convinced myself that it’s all right, her face pops up, first when she made her request at the tracks, second as she watched that video, and now, the look on her face as she saw that I had not only gotten Max into the Convention, but also made it so he got to participate in a way she couldn’t top.
No wonder she hates me.
And what does Max mean that she gets it? Because if our positions were reversed…I drop my gaze from Max’s again. If our positions were reversed, I certainly wouldn’t ‘get it’. I would want Max to make me a priority, to put me above best friendships, no matter how close those bonds were. Even as I think this, I know that giving him an ultimatum like that would be the first nail in the coffin of that relationship; Max is all about his friends and family. Asking him to cut them off would be an epic mistake and Jessica must know this, how could she not?
“ Liz?”
At the soft call, I stare up at him again, and manage to muster up a small smile. “ All right. So tomorrow it is.” I stand up before Max can scrutinize me for too much longer, and realize that I have not, cannot, take his words and be at peace. How can I, when Jessica’s Thorne’s reproachful looks, unjustified as they may be sometimes, actually make sense to me? “ You want to go chase down the others now before they come up with the brilliant idea to lock us up in here?”
He senses that the subject is now closed, and he lets it pass, standing up too. “ If they haven’t already.”
When we open the door, calamity ensues as Maria and Alex almost fall face first into the room. Isabel and Michael, stationed further down the hall, trade commiserating looks at the less cool half of their couplings, and Max and I roll our eyes and step over the tangled mass of limbs, announcing that we’re headed to the CrashDown and we’ll meet everyone there. For now, it seems like everything is fine. I catch Max sending me a concerned look out of the corner of his eye, and when he notices me, he snaps a grin onto his face faster than I can blink. I hold back a sigh, and choose not to call him on it.
It looks like I’m not the only one who’s gotten good at pretending now.
TBC.
I hope you guys enjoy, and as always, feedback is welcome! I will reply to the feedback from the last part as soon as I get home. Traveling, for all its good points, has some really bad ones as well. Hope everyone had a Happy Easter!
21. Inconvenient... (Part 1)
Once upon a time, there lived a young girl. For the first few years of her life, everything was perfect and wonderful. She had many friends to play with, a big back yard and delicious snacks waited for her at home every day. There were the usual inconveniences here and there, such as never enough dollies to go around at daycare, and the annoying twist of fate that made it her lot in life to never win the rights to the last swing in the yard whenever she played the dark haired girl for it, but these little wrinkles aside, life was sweet.
A fair haired child, she had been blessed with a cool blue gaze and a beatific smile, and at home, away from the playground politics, she was showered with hugs and kisses, the apple of her parents eyes. Sometimes, she had the fleeting wish that there could be someone to play with at home too. At the playground, everyone seemed to have a best friend, or at least, the dark haired girl, with her serious eyes and annoyingly engaging smile, seemed to be thick as thieves with the other blonde girl who came to the same playground, the one who never stopped moving or talking. Although the little girl was never short of friends, she didn’t have a best friend, and best friends were special, because they were there for you always, you could share secrets with them, and they would even sleep over, so being at home wouldn’t be so lonely. The girl’s parents loved her, she knew, but they were both very busy, and were often not at home. Then one day, her parents sat her down and told her that she wouldn’t be alone anymore- she was going to be a big sister.
At first, she had been upset, worried and fearful that her parents would love her less when the new baby came. She had rushed away and hidden in her secret spot in the backyard and allowed herself the luxury of tears before she sniffled to a stop, reminding herself that crying made one ugly and tired. Besides, she was six years old now, almost seven, really, and seven year olds didn’t cry- that’s what babies like Lizzie Parker did. Calmer, the girl realized that having a baby brother or sister might be a good thing; she would be the boss, and could teach him or her the proper way to do things. They would play together, keep secrets…they would keep each other company when Mommy and Daddy were away, so neither of them would be lonely. And she would love and protect them, because that is what big sisters did. Decided, the little girl had left her spot, and then announced to her parents that she was pleased about the news, and if her baby sibling could please arrive by the next week, because it was Bailey Holt’s party then and she wanted to show the baby off. Her parents had laughed, and told her it would be a while before the baby came and to be patient. The little girl didn’t like that part very much, but she agreed.
While she waited, anxiously, for her sibling, life continued on as normal. If she wasn’t Queen of the playground all the time, that was certainly more than made up for at home, because her parents let her help them decorate the new baby’s room, and even let her pick out toys she thought they might like. The little girl was getting even more anxious now, because she still didn’t have a best friend, while Lizzie Parker and crazy Maria DeLuca had somehow gotten the new boy, Alex Whitman, to be theirs, even though he was a boy and had cooties. Although the girl outwardly scoffed at this, inwardly, she was a bit jealous; people tended to follow what she said or told them to do. It was nice, but people who were afraid of you didn’t turn out to be very good best friends.
Her baby brother was born on a sunny day in the middle of summer. The girl was seven and a half, and ecstatic; her parents, jubilant. When her mother and the baby came home from the hospital for the first time, life was even better than before. Sure, her baby brother couldn’t play yet, and seemed to spend a lot of time sleeping, eating and pooping, when he wasn’t crying his head off, but for all that, there was no one she loved more. When he would wake up and look her in the eye, and give her one of his toothless grins, he seemed to be telling her the same thing too. She couldn’t wait till he grew a little older, to when she could start showing him all the best places to hide in the yard, and all the best things to eat. She didn’t even mind that Lizzie Parker always beat her in tests at school, because Lizzie didn’t have an adorable baby brother, now, did she?
Sadly, one year later, neither would she.
High summer. It was only 6am and it was already scorching hot. The shrill shriek that echoed through the house had her sitting up so fast she was dizzy. She could hear her mother screaming, her father’s pounding footsteps and worried shouts- and then she was out of bed, and racing for Jason’s room, only he was sleeping still, through the horrible noises their mother was still making and the broken gasps of their father.
Only he wasn’t sleeping.
The day after they left him in the ground next to Grandpa Sam who she’d never met, the difference in the house was stark. It was quiet now, and it felt wrong to laugh, when Mommy secretly and not so secretly cried, and Daddy was as sad as he packed up Jason’s things. The little girl’s heart hurt every day, because she missed Jason so much, and more than that, she missed her Mommy too. The lady who came home from the graveyard that day wasn’t her mommy anymore. She was different. Sadder. Broken.
As time went on, she was no longer their little princess, so the girl strove harder than ever to be Queen at school. There, she succeeded. If she still didn’t have a best friend, then so what? Her group was loyal to her, and wouldn’t leave her, not like the sibling who simply didn’t wake up one day, or the distant mother who was leaving behind a daughter who longed for her still, or the father who was in denial about it all. Life, if no longer sweet, was tolerable at least. She never admitted that it was lonely. Not even to herself.
The years went on, and the girl grew steadily colder. If anything hurt her, or made her sad, it was carefully concealed behind a mask of cutting indifference, until her tongue and her manner were feared throughout the school-and no one could guess that behind that icy, prefect façade lay a girl who felt as unloved and unnoticed as the most invisible person at the school. One reason, of many, that Liz Parker irritated her, was that the girl was the complete opposite of this, and didn’t seem to care. She wore her heart on her bloody sleeve, was hopeless at hiding how she really felt, and damn it all, but the world somehow seemed to find those big brown eyes irresistible, and was completely enamored of the girl. It was completely unfathomable. Didn’t she know that emotions, feeling something so deeply and openly, were the fast track to a lot of pain and loneliness? Apparently no one had told Liz that, but she would learn. Some people just learned earlier than others.
A few more years passed, and at home, the girl’s mother no longer cried, and her father worked as twice as much. Tears had been exchanged for slightly more regular drinks at dinner for her mother, and denial exchanged for an even more absentee father. If it hadn’t been for the early morning breakfasts he always made sure to have with her, the girl would have doubted that her father even lived there at all. On the cusp of leaving childhood, during one of the rare times that the family was actually out together, when for once, it felt like a throwback to the golden days when she had been young, they heard the news. The Parkers had been hit by a driver that had lost control, and their car had careened off the road. They had died upon impact, and Liz Parker was now an orphan.
It was strange, how tragedy had a way of waking people up from their self induced stupors. Her parents had somehow been jolted into alertness, and had actually seen her, actually acknowledged her existence. At the funeral, the girl had discreetly studied Liz, and noted that all the emotion was still laid out bare, but this time, there was a glaze of stunned shock in the girl’s eyes. Their little family had visited Jason’s grave together for the first time in years, and when they had gone home that day, it had actually felt like they were taking steps towards becoming something real again. Somewhere, a part of her felt saddened that this turn of events had come at the expense of someone else’s life, a feeling that intensified the first time she had seen Liz Parker after the funeral. She and her group were at the CrashDown, open again after two months, now under the management of Liz’s Uncle and Aunt, when a veritable thundercloud had rolled through the café. She had barely recognized Liz at first. This girl was a glaring, scowling, mess and even Maria and Alex had given her a wide berth as they trailed her.
The town’s sweetheart had turned into a spitting, roaring, dragon, and although the girl was initially sympathetic, she couldn’t understand why everyone was tolerating it. Had everyone cared this much when Jason had passed, and she suddenly became invisible at home? Did anyone spend time crooning about what a shame it was that own her mother had barely been able to look at her for months after the burial, or that her father had become a ghost? Or was this simply more of a tragedy, because it was Liz Parker, and the world seemed destined to love her? There were many times when she wanted to shake the dark haired girl, to show her that she was hurting everyone who for some reason cared for her so. She had lost her parents yes, but she wasn’t alone. Far from it. Starved of attention and care for years, the girl had developed a keen eye in detecting what she so lacked, and she saw that Liz’s Aunt and Uncle loved her immensely, and duo of DeLuca and Whitman cared for their friend as fiercely as their own blood.
So although she was tempted many times to confront Liz, and somehow shake her back into the land of the living - she didn’t. Somewhere, she got a deep satisfaction at seeing the girl who got everything in life handed to her on a silver platter finally having to taste bitter reality. Perhaps that was cruel of her, but it was something everyone had to learn sometime, and now it was Liz’s turn. It didn’t escape her notice that their fortunes seemed to be inversely connected; while Liz spiraled into anger, the girl’s own home life was improving tremendously. She was just now getting used to being seen by her parents again-it felt nice that they were looking at her and not wincing as they remembered another fair haired, blue eyed child. It felt like her life was finally getting better again, something that was only further confirmed when he moved into town.
That morning hadn’t started out too well. She had been late to school, as part of her parent’s new
leaf, the early morning breakfasts that had been the last vestiges of her and her father’s relationship had expanded to include her mother, and they were to be held every day without fail. Today, her parents had been preoccupied with squabbling with each other, and she had been absorbed with trying to act normal in spite of it. As such, she had shot out of the car as soon as her father had screeched into the school parking lot, and had of course smacked right into some other tardy person. Scowling, she had prepared to lay into the unfortunate person who was responsible for making her even later- but she found that she couldn’t.
He had extended a hand to help her up, and seemed unperturbed that he had knocked her down, although he was apologetic. All signals that he was new in town, if the fact that she had never seen him before wasn’t clear enough indication of that. Someone she had grown up with her whole life would probably be cowering in fear now, or staring at her in a weirdly adoring manner, but not this boy. When they were both standing, he was exactly her height and when he had introduced himself as Max Evans, the newest 8th grader at West Roswell Middle School, he had smiled, and the girl suddenly felt like a dozen little butterflies were trying to escape her stomach. Her mind had seemed to go all foggy, and her one recurring thought was that he had the prettiest eyes she had ever seen on a boy.
It was a very unsettling feeling.
The rest of their five minute encounter included leaving him at Principal’s office, and an uncharacteristically halting introduction of herself. He hadn’t seemed to mind that, or the ridiculous blush that claimed her cheeks when she was done. As Max had disappeared into the office and she collected a pass that excused her from tardiness as a thank you for being kind to a new student, she decided that perhaps even Queens needed Kings sometimes, but only if they were good enough, of course.
Max Evans turned out to be good enough. Better, even.
It wasn’t simply that he was good looking. There were other boys in Roswell who were good looking, like Kyle Valenti, for instance, but Kyle’s smile didn’t make her stomach feel all fluttery, and meeting his eyes didn’t make her feel like her carefully collected façade was in danger of cracking. Max didn’t let her fearsome reputation stop him from talking to her, and the girl was glad of this. She wasn’t blind or deaf to the less than admiring sentiment that surrounded her sometimes, and it was a relief to see that Max seemed to want to form his own opinions. In his first weeks of school, the fact that he always said hello to her when she passed by his locker (never mind that it was out of her way) elevated her already lofty social standing to even greater heights. It said something after all, that the cutest, nicest guy to come to their school in a while was already an admirer. That was good, because she was certainly an admirer of his.
She couldn't help but notice that he was sincerely interested in getting to know everyone he met, whether they were popular or not, paying real attention and remembering whatever they said. It certainly didn't hurt that his natural talent in sport made him a favorite pick for any of the school teams. He was smart too, never unprepared in class, but offhand enough about it that he didn't come off as obsessive. In the short time he had been at the school, he had already amassed quite a following, although, as luck would have it, the person Max Evans spent most of his time outside class with happened to be Liz Parker.
The girl thought this was the height of unfairness; even when Liz was being an absolute beast, the fates seemed bound and determined to shower blessings her way. As it stood, Max was saddled with Liz as his welcome committee (a role she had volunteered for herself, had lost to Liz, and had many times considered petitioning their teacher to take over) though the dark haired girl was treating Max terribly and not been very welcoming at all. In spite of this, he remained civil, and even pleasant to the surly girl. It only made him more charming, and made the fair girl more determined to know him, because if someone like Max, who would willingly spend time with Parker the terrible, could see that she wasn’t so terrible, maybe it was time to start relaxing around her group too.
The girl had just decided that she would offer Max an invite to her circle of friends, and was proceeding with her entourage to the lunch area where they would settle and then find him, when the sound of muted shouting reached her ears. She had halted immediately, and was rewarded by the sight of Max and Liz seemingly having it out in a deserted classroom. Her group had giggled, and then quieted as they watched and surreptitiously tried to listen to the words being exchanged fast and furious between the two. The words were important, yes, but the girl was much more interested by the expressions on their faces, and the emotions in the eyes that had so captivated her. Max was staring at Liz with the most intense look, and though anger and frustration came clear through it, there was something else there, something desperate, and fierce, and not at all to her liking. With a square of her shoulders, she had proceeded onward, her friends quickly following, and she decided she would have to move fast. She had lost so much to Liz Parker over the years. She would not lose Max.
The next few days made her think she might not have to suffer through that after all. Liz remained as curt and unpleasant as ever, and now, even Max didn’t make an effort to reach her. Then the fifth day dawned, and showed her just how wrong she was. Whatever Max and Liz had been screaming at each other about seemed to have dynamited Liz out of her permanent thundercloud. In the weeks to come, a new group seemed to materialize out of nowhere, with the unholy trio reunited and as annoying as ever, and even more, they had grown, adding gangly Isabel Evans, Max’s non-existent, braces clad twin, and messy haired Michael Guerin to the mix. In the middle of it all, Liz Parker was back, charming and funny, and cute enough to fall just shy of awkward, even though she made that look endearing as well. The whole world seemed to fall at her feet once more, embracing her right back into the fold like a favored daughter. Worst of all, Max Evans looked like he was falling right along with them.
Their daily locker conversations ceased, because now Max always dragged Liz to his locker before her first class, in an attempt to get her to converse with people she had made a habit of avoiding when she was being the hostile hermit. When the girl did go out of her way to drop by, Max was never anything but nice and pleasant to her, although it was obvious he was more than distracted with his unruly mission of mercy. As such, she found it even more difficult than usual to treat Liz with the kid gloves or unflagging awe that everyone else seemed to automatically bestow on the girl. This didn't exactly endear her to Max, and so, in order to preserve her good standing with him, she generally avoided being around the pair when they were together. Which was all the time.
And so, as time went on, she continued to watch Max, longing for him from afar, and became invisible again to the one who mattered most to her. Parker gained three more best friends, and still the girl remained alone. What was worse, she was now caught in the bittersweet tendrils of affection that seemed wholly one sided, and she was at loss for what to do. No one could know, for they would think her weak, and it was humiliating to admit even to herself that she had lost to Liz, again. She was tired of being second best to the girl, when there was no clear reason she should be. Even her improving home life provided no respite, for although her parents paid more attention to her now than they had in years, it was only to push her to become better, study harder, start laying down the groundwork for a future that seemed inconsequential when the guy she had a crush on barely seemed to acknowledge her existence.
The girl was 14 now, and undoubtedly the prettiest, most popular girl in her class, with all the good and bad that came with that title. It was high summer, with school having let out two weeks before, and this was the part of the year that she hated most. Her house would become just a bit quieter, the one glass at dinner would become two, and long absences would become even longer. It was almost a relief to have the weather cool as the leaves browned, because then her mother would wake up again, and her father would come home at a decent hour. The girl loved fall; summer was for sadness, for Jason. Fall was for beginnings; fall was for living again, for fate to finally bring her best friend into her life.
Fall was when she met Jordan Connor for the first time.
And she knew she would never be alone again.
**************
“ Dairy products go over there! Turkeys into the deep freezer, and let’s all try to keep away from the pumpkin pie, please!”
The commands flow out fast and efficient, and although you would be forgiven for thinking that the blonde wielding the clipboard is Isabel Evans on another event organization rampage, today’s dictator is none other than Maria DeLuca. As junior class president, she is tasked with pulling off a couple of events in the year, and right now, we are in the midst of a running a donation-station in order to gather Thanksgiving Day supplies for the less fortunate. Things are running surprisingly smoothly, which in my opinion, is a testament to both Maria’s skills at corralling (read: terrifying) her volunteers into completing their tasks and said volunteers desire to leave as quickly as possible. Preferably before Maria finds more things for everyone to do.
I finish assembling the last care package that will complete my quota, and I heft it over to where the rest are waiting. On the day before thanksgiving, teams of volunteers will go out in shifts to deliver the care packages, taking turns to go out at different points in the day. There was the requisite mad scramble for the most coveted spots, at actual decent times, but there was really no need for this. All the crappiest time slots have already been filled neatly by Maria’s usual minions in these matters: mainly Michael, Alex, myself and the Evans twins. I don’t really mind, as long as I am assigned the latest time slots; I think we are all painfully aware by now that morning and I are a bad combination.
“ That’s my 12 done, Izzy.”
Before me, Isabel eyes my pile with a critical eye, fluffs the ribbon I’ve made so that it’s prettier (to my exasperation and amusement) and adds a check mark by my name. All right. I guess Maria isn’t the only blonde wielding a clipboard today; but seriously, this is Isabel Evans we are talking about. When it comes to planning, she and her fluorescently bright turquoise clipboard are practically symbiotic. “ Great. And you’re all set for delivery night?”
I nod in confirmation. “ I just have to pick up my list of addresses to hit and I’ll be all ready.”
“ Oh, I gave those to Max already. He has the list.”
Despite my best efforts, I blanch, and Isabel’s sharp eyes immediately register the uncharacteristic action.
“ Is that a problem?”
I let out a breath slowly, and then hitch up what I hope is a convincing smile. “ Why would it be a problem?”
The look she levels at me indicates that it apparently wasn’t convincing enough.
“ Maybe because you look like you’re about to throw up?” Isabel supplies helpfully. I roll my eyes at her and very maturely tell her that I am not going to throw up, thank you.
She ignores this, and frowns at me in concern. “ What’s the matter? You and Max have had the same route, at the same time, for years. You’ve fought Michael relentlessly for this time slot too, and you know he hates getting up early as much as you do.”
This is true. The mere fact that I have successfully stolen the last time slot from under his nose time after time is testament to how much I hate the other extreme shift (practically the crack of dawn) and how awful Michael is at foosball. You would think he would change the game by now, but Michael’s even more stubborn than I am, and he refuses to accept that he is less than perfectly athletic at anything. Still. All this is besides the point.
I fidget, and when I meet Isabel’s brown eyes, I sigh. I open my mouth to grudgingly admit what has had me on pins and needles ever since the Convention, when Max and I stepped into the shoes of intergalactic royalty, and had to pretend to be in the throes of an intensely passionate love affair. There have been several nights now that I’ve had vague, confusing dreams that don’t make sense, and wake up with nothing but a recollection of a deliciously warm weight draped over me, and a glittering flash of intense honey eyes searing into my soul.
Needless to say, despite his very generous compensation, the chance to hang out with actual TV stars and his unending gratitude, I am not Milton’s biggest fan at the moment.
“ I just- I just want to be sure Max doesn’t have any other plans for that night. You know. With Thorn girl.”
Isabel’s eyebrow rises in question. “ I’m pretty sure brother dearest knows his own schedule, especially if it involves,” Here, her nose wrinkles slightly, “ a date with his girlfriend. And if he can’t remember that, well- thank God you’re off the job, right?” She peers at me. “ You ARE off the job, aren’t you?”
“ Yes!” The assurance trips off my tongue quickly. “ Of course I am. But even if Max doesn’t have plans, she might have plans for them you know?” Confusion is still evident all over Izzy’s face, so I reveal the source of my consternation. “ I don’t want to have a repeat of the Convention, okay?”
That revelation got the confusion to clear up right quick, but now, she tuts at me and shakes her head in disapproval. “ Are you still hung up about that?”
“ It’s sort of hard to get un-hung up about it when she won’t stop glaring at me every free second she has, Iz.”
“ And this is unusual how?”
I throw her an irritated look, but I relent a second later, because she’s right, and she knows she’s right, judging by the smug look she’s giving me. I sigh and shrug in surrender.
“ Fine, fine. So that part’s not really anything new,”
“ But?”
My fingers find each other and tangle fretfully. “ But this is the first time I actually feel like I did something to deserve it,”
Isabel and I stare at each other for a few minutes and then she shakes her head at me.
“ You can’t be serious.”
“ Izzy-”
“ Liz, listen to me, all right? Whatever scenario you’ve made up in your head that somehow has you at fault for the whole Convention fiasco, forget about it. How you even came up with that is beyond me.”
“ Gee, I wonder if might have anything to do with the fact that I’m the reason he was there in the first place?”
“ Okay, now you’re just being irrational.”
“ I’m not being irrational! I’m just…I just feel really terrible about the whole thing, especially since it happened so soon after the whole dinner fiasco.”
Isabel at least has the grace to look embarrassed at the reminder of the catastrophe, but she recovers quickly. “ That wasn’t your fault either.” She mutters.
I rub at my eyes wearily. “ Yeah, well. There’s a lot of that going around. And funnily enough, every single time it’s not my fault, I somehow end up looking like I’m doing everything I can to wreck their relationship.” Isabel makes a sound of protest, but even she can’t deny how this looks and after a few minutes, it is her who sighs. “ You know I’m right.”
“ All right, fine. I can sort of see where you’re coming from,” I snort and she ignores this, continuing to speak. “ But it doesn’t change the fact that you haven’t actually DONE anything Liz. If you’re going to guilt trip yourself into a frenzy about something, can’t it be at least over something you have done?”
“ What? Why would I want to do that? I don’t LIKE guilt tripping myself Iz. It’s not exactly an enjoyable thing you know!”
“ Well could have fooled me, you do it to yourself so often. Look. You’re not their Cupid anymore, so please try to curb your natural compulsion to fix things for everyone. If Max and Jessica really want to have a go at this thing…they’re going to have to do it without a baby sitter.”
I level her with a look that says I am deeply unimpressed. “ That would hold a lot more weight if you guys weren’t trying to sabotage them at every turn.”
“ Adversity is how we grow stronger Liz.” At my disbelieving look she shrugs at me. “ What? Seriously. If they can survive us, they will definitely survive high school. And if they survive you then they will make it all the way to the altar.”
All of this is delivered in a very matter-of-fact tone, as if all this information is somehow freely available and accepted knowledge. Which is completely crazy. “ Where do you get this stuff? No, don’t tell me, forget I asked. Can’t I just split the list with Max? We would get done a lot faster.”
Isabel opens her mouth, presumably to argue with me some more, when a new voice breaks into the conversation.
“Why would you want to do that?”
The new voice belongs to Maria, and Isabel greets her with a bright smile.
“ Oh good. You’re here. Reason with her please, I did the best I could.”
I sigh in exasperation and throw her a glare, to which she responds with a meaningful look, and a reminder to “Let it go already, Liz!” before leaving me alone with my best friend to harass Michael and Alex instead, who are currently attempting to build a pyramid from frozen turkeys.
Maria’s blue-green eyes are curious as she studies me. “ Let what go?” I frown obstinately, because really, I have no desire to go over the whole sorry tale a second time, but Maria being Maria, she narrows in on the issue instantly.
“ Are you still beating yourself up over the Convention?”
Ugh. How does everyone do that? There is a split second where I am about to launch into a denial, but instead, deflate, and mutter a sullen,
“No.”
Which of course doesn’t fool her at all.
Maria groans. “ Liz.”
“ If you’re going to tell me it’s irrational, can we skip it? I already went through the whole thing with Isabel.”
“ Well clearly we need to go over it again, because it hasn’t sunk in for you,” She scans the room and seeing that Isabel has Michael and Alex well in hand, while Max is conveniently on the other side of the room receiving last minute donations, grabs me by the hand and sits me down at a table. Glumly, I cross my arms over my chest and prepare to be obstinate. Unfortunately, I forgot that this is Maria DeLuca, the Queen of Obstinate. And Michael is her King.
The thought makes me smirk, but I quickly wipe it away once Maria sits down opposite me.
“ You sure you’d rather be sitting here with me than yelling at Michael and Alex? I think they’ve moved on to juggling the yams now.”
Maria waves a hand unconcernedly. “ Isabel’s all over that.”
This is true, judging by the screeches coming from that direction. I sigh and hunker down, meeting her steady gaze with one of my own.
“ Well?”
“ I’m just trying to figure you out, Lizzie.” I stiffen, because Maria’s using her calm and sensible tone of voice, which means she is bringing out the big guns. Great. I drop my gaze to the table and start to trace designs on the smooth wood.
“ Yeah, let me know how that goes okay?”
“ I know you can’t be blaming yourself for Milton ending up two actors short that night,” She muses, completely ignoring my statement. “ Even with your overly developed guilt complex, you can’t possibly think it was truly your fault that those two got lost in Vegas. So that’s not the problem.”
I frown at her and stay silent, and she continues to study me, and really, at this point, I’m content to let her. When it comes to how I feel these days, everything seems to roil together in a great thundercloud, and trying to make heads or tails of it does nothing except invite a headache. Listening to someone else’s take on the madness that has become my norm might not be so bad after all.
“ Which leaves…Max. As usual.” My eyes narrow at this, but I hold my tongue, and Maria continues. “ When we were younger, you, me and Alex…we were the three the musketeers. Do you remember?”
I glance back up at her, surprised by the sudden change of topic. My response is immediate, automatic. “ We still are.”
The answer light of affection in Maria’s eyes lessens my reluctance at being at this table and she nods in acknowledgement. “ That’s true. But we’re…different now. When Alex and I got together with Isabel and Michael, we stopped being the first people you would always call whenever you got yourself into some crazy situation that could only ever happen to you.” She smiles gently at me. “ You know it’s true.”
“ Well I…that’s not because I thought you guys wouldn’t come! It was mostly that I didn’t want to intrude in case you and Alex were busy with Michael and Iz. I always knew you guys were there for me, even if I wasn’t dragging you out of your beds at 2am anymore.”
Maria smiles at the memory. “ Was that the night you got accidentally locked in the library at school?”
I blush. “ I-well. Yes, actually it was.” I fidget a bit. “ Um…not that I don’t appreciate this happy diversion, but what does this have to do with-”
“ Who do you call now, Lizzie?”
“ What?”
“ Humor me. Who do you call?”
Again, the answer is immediate, automatic. “ Max. I call Max.”
Maria nods as if my answer has confirmed her thoughts. “ And there it is. The real reason you’re so tied up in knots about all this.” She shakes her head. “ He’s always been the one you call and now…you’re spinning because suddenly you feel like you can’t do that anymore. With me and Alex, it wasn’t so bad, because you love Izzy and Michael and you know if you were to call us when we were with them, they wouldn’t care, and they would come too. But its different with Max. ”
“ I don’t-”
“ Yes, you do. It’s why you’re trying to distance yourself from him now. Because unlike when Alex and I started dating, and you still got to keep us, you’re not sure if that’s going to happen with Max. You’re looking at having to be without him when he’s always been there for you-since the day you guys first met.” This time, her gaze is sympathetic. “ And you think if you take a step back from him like you did for me and Alex, you might not get him back.”
Maria’s astute observations make me shift in agitation, especially because she’s managed to take the thundercloud inside me and separate it into discrete little tangles of the current complications that run my life. “ Max and I will always be friends,” My opening response sounds weak even to my ears, and I shrug helplessly. “ But I can’t expect him to drop everything and come to my rescue, whatever the time is, anymore. Not when she’s around to consider now.”
“ So to circumvent that, you’re just not going to hang out with him anymore?” She reaches out and covers my hand. “ I know you feel really bad about how the Convention turned out…but that wasn’t your fault. How could you know what Thorn girl had been planning to do? It was really sweet.” The admission looks like it’s cost her, but she recovers a moment later. “ And therefore, totally unexpected. I mean, name me one person who wasn’t shocked. It’s not exactly in her repertoire you know?”
“ Okay, fine, I get it. It wasn’t my fault. But what about the next time? I don’t want to keep coming between the two of them, Maria.”
Maria snorts. “ Hon, you do that just by breathing.”
“ What?”
She shakes her head. “ So not touching that one. Look. Try not to obsess about this so much, okay? You’re just driving yourself crazy, and you’re forgetting one gigantic part of it.”
I tilt my head to the side in question, and Maria leaves me hanging only briefly before she has to stand up and join Isabel’s efforts to get the turkeys squared away.
“ What would Max think about what you’re trying to do?”
The words hit home, and I know he would be furious. I groan. “ Would he maybe see the sensible side and realize I’m trying to make this easy for him?” Maria simply raises an eyebrow at me and I slump back into my chair. “ That’s what I thought.”
She nods and then gives me a sympathetic pat on my shoulder. “ Sorry, babe. But you know, there is one thing that could fix all this.” The mischievous sparkle that always lives in Maria’s eyes is back in full force, but underneath that, I see that she’s being completely serious. I shake my head again, intent on warding off the words I have heard so many times I could recite them in my sleep. Besides, she is so wrong. Revealing my biggest secret wouldn’t fix things, more like blow everything to kingdom come.
“ Don’t say it,” I warn.
“ Say what?”
Max’s voice comes from right behind me, and I jerk in surprise. I scowl up at Maria, and the answering laughter in her eyes tells me that she had been aware of Max’s impending approach and is now content with leaving me to deal with the fall out.
“ Oh nothing. Just that confession is good for the soul, and Lizzie here would benefit from a few of them. Or maybe just one?”
I sigh. “ Goodbye Maria.”
Her work done, my best friend leaves with a trailing giggle behind her. I shake my head ruefully, and consider the possibility that in some other life, Maria might have been the goddess of chaos. Lord knows, she’s scarily adept at leaving a trail of destruction in her wake. Case in point.
Max sits at Maria’s newly abandoned chair, a curious look on his face. I fidget for about two seconds, before I take a deep breath, and start off with a very brilliant,
“ Hi.”
Amusement mixes with the curiosity, and Max grins at me. “ Hi. Do I want to know what that was about?”
“ Probably better for your long term mental health if you don’t,” I answer truthfully. I look around and realize that our little group are the only ones left. “ No more last minute additions?”
“ I think we’re done.”
“ Great.” My fingers drum a nervous staccato on the table and then my question spills out before I can stop it. “ So about delivery night, are you sure you’re good to do our route?”
Max raises an eyebrow at me. “ Last time I checked yeah. Why do you ask?”
“ I just…it’s the night before Thanksgiving. I thought you and Th-Jessica might have plans maybe. Because you‘re probably not going to be able to spend Thanksgiving day together, what with it being a family holiday and all-unless you are? In which case, it won’t matter if I have you for that night, right? ”
In the lull that follows my rushed and tumbling questions, it finally settles that I have just asked him if was okay that I have him for a night. I can almost hear Maria cackling away in my head, and clear my throat to distract myself from the rising heat in my cheeks. I swear, there used to be a time every other word I uttered didn’t embarrass the hell out of me. Where did those happy days go I wonder?
Max, thankfully, has chosen to overlook the less innocent implications of my sentences, but his eyes have slimmed in thought. “ Liz, what are you really asking?”
And here we go.
“ I’m not asking anything. I just…I just want you to know, Max, that what I said a few months ago still stands. Things with Jessica take precedence…and assuming that you’re going to always be able to drop everything and come running out at any time of the night isn’t fair.” I stare at his face, register the suddenly tense jaw and I know what I have said has upset him, but it has to be done. “ I’m not saying that just because you have her now, you wouldn’t come. I’m just saying-”
“ What? What are you saying? That you shouldn’t ask?” He looks angry for some reason, almost betrayed.
“ Well should I?” I am frustrated and tired and this comes through in my voice. I don’t want to lose Max. That has been the driving force behind this entire thing, this is what makes me clamp down tight and suppress anything else I feel for him, and now it appears that despite everything, it is going to happen anyway.
My life sucks.
“ You’re one of my best friends Liz. What do you think?” He asks sarcastically.
“ I think that because that’s true, I should be making things easier for you rather than harder,” I fire back.
“ Have you met my other best friends? They don’t share your sentiments.”
“ That’s my point exactly. If I can make it easier for you, then I damn well will.”
We glare at each other and break eye contact at the same time, Max looking off to the side while I drop my gaze to the table once more. I don’t even know what we’re really arguing about now, and I don’t think Max does either. There is so much being left unsaid, that the thundercloud Maria had successfully untangled, or at least pared into manageable chunks just seems to grow bigger and bigger. I glance around absently and realize that the room is empty, and I cannot help but laugh raggedly, in part amusement and exasperation. Still scheming. I’m not sure that I’m really surprised.
Max has realized we’re alone too, and he sighs, bringing my attention back to him.
“ Look. I appreciate what you’re doing for me and Jess, Liz. Especially because I know you don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things, so it means a lot that you’re still trying to make this whole thing as painless as possible.”
I almost smirk at his wording, it’s clear that Max doesn’t have high hopes for the attempt, but then again…neither do I. He catches this, and shoots me a warning look and I quell the smile. “ But? ”
“ But…you are…important to me. And I don’t ever want you to think that just because I’m dating someone, that will change. ” His eyes are warm, and filled with the intense light that I’ve seen so many times but have yet to decipher. When he looks at me like this, I can almost pretend it’s because he feels the way that I do as well. “ Jess gets that. So don’t worry, okay?”
I want to believe what he says wholeheartedly, and just continue on like everything is the same. But the mention of Jess, the untouchable ice queen who has somehow managed to capture Max’s heart stops me every time. Every time I have convinced myself that it’s all right, her face pops up, first when she made her request at the tracks, second as she watched that video, and now, the look on her face as she saw that I had not only gotten Max into the Convention, but also made it so he got to participate in a way she couldn’t top.
No wonder she hates me.
And what does Max mean that she gets it? Because if our positions were reversed…I drop my gaze from Max’s again. If our positions were reversed, I certainly wouldn’t ‘get it’. I would want Max to make me a priority, to put me above best friendships, no matter how close those bonds were. Even as I think this, I know that giving him an ultimatum like that would be the first nail in the coffin of that relationship; Max is all about his friends and family. Asking him to cut them off would be an epic mistake and Jessica must know this, how could she not?
“ Liz?”
At the soft call, I stare up at him again, and manage to muster up a small smile. “ All right. So tomorrow it is.” I stand up before Max can scrutinize me for too much longer, and realize that I have not, cannot, take his words and be at peace. How can I, when Jessica’s Thorne’s reproachful looks, unjustified as they may be sometimes, actually make sense to me? “ You want to go chase down the others now before they come up with the brilliant idea to lock us up in here?”
He senses that the subject is now closed, and he lets it pass, standing up too. “ If they haven’t already.”
When we open the door, calamity ensues as Maria and Alex almost fall face first into the room. Isabel and Michael, stationed further down the hall, trade commiserating looks at the less cool half of their couplings, and Max and I roll our eyes and step over the tangled mass of limbs, announcing that we’re headed to the CrashDown and we’ll meet everyone there. For now, it seems like everything is fine. I catch Max sending me a concerned look out of the corner of his eye, and when he notices me, he snaps a grin onto his face faster than I can blink. I hold back a sigh, and choose not to call him on it.
It looks like I’m not the only one who’s gotten good at pretending now.
TBC.
