Hi All! Thank you again for your wonderful feedback! While in no way is this fiction based on a true story, there are some things and people that have been pulled from real-life situations either I have experienced or ones that have been shared with me. I hope I do them justice! The next few parts coming up are a bit slow going, but they help to build the backstory.
I've begun to struggle with this story emotionally because I know what I'm about to do/have already done to these characters and a part of me hates myself for it

I've been working on some much later chapters over the past few weeks and I've more or less been a puddle of tears while writing. But I really feel it's a story worth telling and while it is going to be hell for our favorite Roswellians, they are going to make it out on the other side. I promise. And just a reassurance that Max and Liz do remain together through this whole story. I personally have difficulty reading any story where they are broken up/have a contentious relationship/are with other people, so if you're like me, I will at least say that is one thing you do not need to worry about. Everything else is up for grabs
The song "Yellow" belongs to Coldplay, but I will be borrowing it with some frequency going forward! I also might have borrowed a little something from John Green at the end
Enjoy!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was almost 4:30 when we reached the outskirts of Ruidoso, a small mountain town nestled between the Sacramentos and the Sierra Blancas. Our families had been skiing out here on a number of occasions; it wasn’t the same as going north to Taos or Angel Fire, but it was a nice place to get away for a weekend.
It was unseasonably warm for early April in the mountains and for that I was grateful. Max turned off the main drag and up an unfamiliar side street.
“The last time I came out here with my parents, we ate at this place at least 4 times. And it shouldn’t be that busy,” he explained, pulling into a gravel parking lot.
The little cafe was almost empty as Max predicted, and we were greeted by a friendly young waitress who sat us next to one of the the huge chalet-style windows that flooded the open space with sunlight. The restaurant was rustic and very down-to-earth with wide, worn floorboards and a high post-and-beam ceiling. It smelled of fresh breads and hot soups and I could actually feel a twinge of hunger creeping up on me for the first time in months.
“This is nice, Max. Thank you,” I murmured. And I meant it. In the last 10 weeks, I had spent so little time outside of the house and even less time doing things that weren’t either sleeping or school work. I was so afraid to run into people that I knew or to give myself too much time to think. But after today’s news, we had so much to figure out and being trapped in the house or even in Roswell wasn’t going to provide any clarity.
The waitress came to take our order - a bowl of chicken noodle for me and a roast beef sandwich with a cup of tomato basil for Max - and left our drinks on the table.
I wrapped my hands around a hot mug of decaffeinated tea and watched as the steam rose and curled off the surface. My thoughts followed a similar thread, ethereal and twisting every which way with no real destination. They seemed to drift away from me, fleeting and without substance.
“When do you want to tell my parents?” Max broke my reverie.
“Tonight,” I said simply, bringing the mug to my lips. “It’ll be worse if we wait, I think. We need to show them that we’re taking responsibility for our actions.”
He nodded. “We should probably tell Isabel and Michael at the same time.”
“Maria is going to be pissed,” I said with a snort.
“What, that we’re having a baby?”
“No, that she wasn’t the first to find out. Not to say that she won’t be upset that I’m pregnant, but Michael finding out before she does is going to be a way bigger deal on the Maria-Meter.”
Max cracked a smile at this. He knew I was right but she was just going to have to get over herself.
“How do you think everyone is going to react?” I asked. I knew no one was going to be particularly happy, but I felt so out of touch with reality that a part of me really had no idea what to expect.
“Given the circumstances? Better than they might have six months ago,” he said honestly. “I think Dad and Michael are going to be the angriest. Isabel will be disappointed, but she’ll get over it pretty quickly. Same goes for Maria. Alex is far enough removed from the situation that I think he’ll just be supportive, and quite honestly I think my mom will be the most understanding. She’ll probably be pretty upset, but she’s always loved you as much as she loves Iz, Michael, and me. She’ll just want to be there for us and for you especially.”
“I hope you’re right, Max. About your mom at least,” I murmured. She and Phillip were the only parental figures I had left and if I lost them, I didn’t know what I would do with myself.
“It’ll all be okay, Lillabet. I will do anything to make sure of that,” he said, reaching across the table to take my hand. “You and this baby are the most important things in my life and I will go to the ends of the earth to protect you both. Even if it means having to stand against my family.” The truth in his words shone bright in his eyes and it was humbling to know so plainly that no matter what I faced in my life he would always be by my side.
There was a lull in the conversation once the waitress brought our food. The soup was delicious and warmed me from the inside and though I was only able to finish a little less than half, I could see the relief on Max’s face that I managed that much. They had an incredible selection of homemade desserts and Max talked me into splitting a piece of their red velvet cake, one of my all-time favorites. I wasn’t able to manage more than a few bites, but he seemed satisfied that I was willing to try.
“Max?” I asked, setting down my fork.
“Hmm?” He mumbled through a bite of cake.
“What are we going to do about school?”
He placed his fork next to mine and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “What do you mean exactly?”
“I mean that school’s always been a priority - for both of us - and I know that something like Harvard is out of the question, but we owe it to ourselves and to this baby to get an education,” I replied, holding his gaze.
“I agree. It’s not going to be easy, but it’s something we have to prioritize. How far ahead are you currently?” He asked and I could see a plan formulating.
“Except for my finals, I’m done. And I’m apparently going to be able to take my finals next week.”
“What if you started your senior year right away? Take a week off and start the last week of April? And then I can start as soon as I finish this semester with the goal of being done before the baby is born. We could take a few months off to adjust and then start classes at ENMU in the spring. Even if we only take a few courses at first, it would still put us ahead. We could decide after that if we wanted to transfer somewhere larger,” he said, a hint of excitement creeping into his voice. I could feel that same spark flickering in me as well; we might actually be able to make this work.
“Have I told you how much I love you lately?” I reached across the table and threaded my fingers through his.
“It can’t possibly be as much as I love you or this baby,” he said earnestly and I found myself almost drowning in his eyes. Sometimes I’m convinced that no one has ever looked at someone else the way that Max looks at me. I still have no idea how I got so lucky.
The waitress dropped off the bill, shaking us from our musings and after we paid we decided to take a walk before it started getting dark. We talked about trivial things, stopped into a few of the small artisan shops, and just enjoyed each other’s company. I could see vestiges of who we were before; before my parents, before the baby, back when we were just two regular teenagers - different only because of our extraordinary love.
The sun was beginning to set in earnest and we started back for the car when something caught my eye. It was a small storefront displaying more local goods, most of which were crafts and earthenware. But in the center of the window perched on an artist’s easel was an abstract painting of three pairs of hands; a man’s cupping a woman’s and a woman’s cupping a child’s. It was done in rich earth tones with oil and the canvas seemed to have depth and texture. There was something awing about such a simple piece of art and it felt profound and so meaningful that I could feel my eyes welling.
“It’s beautiful,” Max said from behind me and it was only then I realized that I had stopped walking.
I nodded. “There is something captivating about it.”
“I think it’s the simplicity of the image juxtaposed with the depth of what it signifies,” Max said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
I unconsciously touched my lower abdomen, realizing that in 7 months time, I would know what it felt like to hold my own child’s hand.
I looked up at Max. “Let’s go home.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The night air crept up on us and about half way back to Roswell, we decided to pull over to put the top back on the Jeep. As we were finishing, I glanced up at the darkening sky. The moon was just a sliver overhead and the stars were quickly brightening against the backdrop.
From inside the Jeep, I could hear the opening chords of a new song by Coldplay.
Look at the stars
Look how they shine for you
And everything you do
Yeah, they were all yellow
I came alive
I wrote a song for you
And all the things you do
And it was called “Yellow”
So then I took my turn
Oh, what a thing to’ve done
And it was all yellow
Your skin
Oh, yeah your skin and bones
Turn in to something beautiful
You know
You know I love you so
You know I love you so
I swam across
I jumped across for you
Oh, what a thing to do
Because you were all yellow
I drew a line
I drew a line for you
Oh, what a thing to do
And it was all yellow
Just skin
Oh yeah, your sink and bones
Turn into something beautiful
Don’t you know
For you, I’d bleed myself dry
For you, I’d bleed myself dry
It’s true
Look how they shine for you
Look how they shine for you
Look how they shine for...
Look how they shine for you
Look how they shine for you
Look how they shine
Look at the stars
Look how they shine for you
And all the things that you do
“They do, you know,” Max said, coming to rest against the hood next to me.
“Hm?” I replied, still lost in my own thoughts.
“The stars. They do shine for you,” he replied, leaning down to whisper in my ear.
I bumped his shoulder with mine and scoffed softly. “Max,” I groaned. He could be so cheesy sometimes. But if I am to be perfectly honest, I absolutely loved it. I still do.
“So Chris Martin can say it, but I can’t?” He teased, leaning into me and nuzzling my hair.
I sighed and rested my head against his shoulder, my gaze still fixed on the sky.
“The line that really gets me is the one about turning skin and bones into something beautiful. I feel so much like I’ve had my flesh torn from my muscles and my muscles torn from my bones until there was nothing solid left of me. Like I’ve been eviscerated and left formless and lifeless.”
“Lillabet,” Max began, but I continued.
“I know that it shouldn’t, for a million reasons, but I feel like for the first time since that morning that something beautiful might come out of this catastrophe. Like I have a chance of being whole again.”
Max drew in a long breath and pressed his lips against the top of my head. He didn’t say anything; he didn’t need to. It was just the bones we were made of and our bones were made for each other.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The digital ring of Max’s cell phone interrupted the quiet when we were about 20 minutes outside of town.
“Hey Mom,” he answered, shooting me a glance.
He listened for a moment. “Better. We did end up going to the doctor’s this afternoon and then we actually went for a drive.” A pause. “Yeah, I was too. A change of scenery did both of us some good. We’re about half an hour from home. Where are you guys?”
I could see Max trying to keep his composure and I reached over to rest a hand on his knee. He gave me an appreciative smile.
“Oh. I thought you guys were close to settling that case?” He paused again and I could hear Diane’s voice over the line but not well enough to make out her half of the conversation. “I’m sorry, that’s rough, Mom. Make sure you guys actually get some sleep at least. Don’t let Dad pull an all-nighter. He’s a bear for weeks afterwards!” Max teased and I could feel his muscles relax under my palm. “I’ll let Izzy and Michael know; I’ll give them a call and see what they’ve planned for dinner. Maybe Liz and I can pick up something for them on the way home. Don’t worry, we’ll be fine. We always are! Love you too, Mom.” And Max pressed the end key.
“They’re staying in Clovis?” I surmised, and I could feel myself relaxing, too. I didn’t realize just how worried I was about telling them when we got home.
“Yeah. I guess that means we can tell everyone else first. It’ll be a good litmus test, I suppose,” Max said, pressing a button on his phone again. “I’m going to call Iz, see if she cans get everyone together.”
As Max talked to his sister, I turned my attention out the passenger window. The moon was bright enough that I could make out a rough sketch of the desert in deep blues. It brought me peace.
Some people find the arid landscape so monotonous, but I took so much comfort from the flat expanses and sharp rock formations that towered above the vastness in astonishing beauty. You cannot appreciate the desert without appreciating the billions of years of history that surround you. Land that was once ocean populated by creatures so minuscule and so monolithic that it’s hard to assimilate. The juxtaposition of feeling simultaneously infinitesimal and infinite is indescribable and a feeling I still return to in my more existential moments when I try to reconcile all the things that were to come for that sixteen year old version of us. To try to comprehend the vastness of existence and yet to know that I held that vastness inside of myself; that pieces of me were once pieces of the stars...it’s a powerful notion. And one that I cling to now just as I did then.
“Lillabet?”
“Hmm?”
“Michael is going to call Maria and Alex is already at the house. Isabel wants Thai,” he said.
I snorted. I couldn’t remember the last time anyone but Isabel decided where we were going when we ordered out.
“We can do this, Max. They all love us. They’re going to be on our side,” I said as much for his benefit as for my own.
Max smiled sadly and squeezed my hand. “I know. I just wish we didn’t have to worry about anyone being on our side. You deserve so much more than that and so does our child.”
“We have each other, Max. Regardless of anyone else, the three of us have each other. And that is so much more than most people in our situation could say. You have no idea how lucky I feel.”
Max sighed and kissed my knuckles. “We’re going to be okay.”
“I know. I know we are.” And I really, truly believed it.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Hey guys, food’s here!” Max called as we walked through the side door into the kitchen.
He dropped the two paper bags down on the counter and I went to the cupboard to grab plates.
“Took you long enough, I’m starving!” Michael complained, ambling in from the living room, rubbing his stomach dramatically.
“Starving? Michael, you just ate an entire party sized bag of Doritos by yourself!” Maria replied, rolling her eyes.
“Hey, it was like, more than half empty!” He shot back as he pawed through the takeout bags.
“Michael, please don’t contaminate the food for the rest of us,” Isabel said, pulling the bag out of Michael’s hands and making quick work of organizing the cartons.
“How are you feeling, chica?” Maria asked as I deposited the plates on the island. I could see the deep concern in her eyes, but she was doing her best to not seem overbearing.
“Um, I’m okay...um, better. Better than I was this morning,” I replied. It wasn’t a lie, exactly. I hadn’t thrown up all day.
She wrapped an arm around my shoulders and kissed my temple. “I worry about enough already Petunia, you can’t go scaring me like this! My heart can’t take it,” she quipped and I gave her a half smile. Hopefully her heart could take what was coming next...
“So where have you guys been all afternoon? I thought Dr. Blane closed at 4?” Alex asked through a mouthful of dumpling. He was referring to the pediatrician we all saw.
“Let’s go sit down,” Max said, glancing at me.
Everyone gathered their plates and drinks and we made our way into the den. The TV was on, one of Michael’s video games on pause - Need for Speed by the looks of it - and there were various textbooks and notebooks strewn on the coffee table. It looked like any other weekday afternoon at the Evans’ and there was something simultaneously comforting and unsettling all at the same time.
“So what did the doctor say? The flu has been going around like crazy. Tina Clark hasn’t been at school for almost two weeks!” Isabel said as we all sat down.
Max put his plate on the side table. “We have something to tell you guys,” he began, but I jumped in before he could go any further.
“I’m pregnant,” I said firmly and simply. “Due October 22nd,” I added; it would at least answer some questions.
The room was absolutely silent for a moment before everyone erupted at the same time.
“Oh my god, Liz!”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Are you serious?”
“What are you going to do?”
“Guys, guys! Please!” Max raised his voice so he could be heard over the commotion.
Once everyone had stopped, Max continued. “This is as big of a shock to us as it is to you. Obviously this wasn’t something we planned and we’re still trying to adjust to the news.”
“You’re sure?” Isabel asked softly.
Max pulled the folded strip of sonogram images from his pocket and handed them to her.
“I...what...is...wow. Just...wow,” Maria stuttered, looking over Izzy’s shoulder.
Alex stared at the pictures for a moment and then turned to us.
“What are you guys going to do?” His question held no judgement.
“We’re keeping it,” I said with quiet conviction that even surprised me.
There was a moment of silence, and then Michael spoke.
“Jesus Christ, Maxwell. How stupid can you be?”
“Michael!” Maria gasped angrily, gaping at her boyfriend.
“This isn’t Max’s fault!” I shot back, angry tears welling in my eyes. “If anyone was stupid, it was me!” I sprang up from the couch and darted down the hall, slamming the bedroom door with all the force I could muster.
I could hear a chorus of voices calling after me as I sank down onto the bed and buried my face in my pillow. How could I be so stupid? So stupid to think that we’d be covered, so stupid to think that a bunch of 16 and 17 year olds would just think this was hunky dory and we’d all eat our dinner like nothing had happened? And so flat out delusional to think that Phillip and Diane would do anything other than kick me out of the house for ruining their son’s life with my idiocy and selfishness? My tears came in a torrent and my body shook, the sheer force stole my voice and left me sobbing silently.
There was a commotion outside the door that was settled by a sharp-tongued Maria, “No, let me!” She insisted and then, much more softly, “Petunia, I’m coming in.”
She left the door ajar and came to sit by me and I surprised both of us by immediately curling into her lap. I needed my best friend.
“Oh, Liz,” she sighed, stroking my hair away from my face and drying my cheek.
“He’s right, Maria,” I choked through barely controlled tears. “How could I be so stupid to let something this huge and this horrible happen?”
“Oh no, no, no. No you don’t. You don’t get to do this. Sit up!” Maria demanded, shifting away from me so I would have to move and do as she asked. She promptly took my face in her hands and held it close to hers, looking me dead in the eye. “First of all, you are the smartest person I know and nothing you ever do could even remotely pass for average, never mind stupid! And second of all, this ‘horrible’ thing that’s happened is my Godchild and no Godchild of mine could ever be anything less than perfect and beautiful and made from a love I don't know if any of us will ever be able to understand.” Maria sat back and dropped her hands into her lap.
“What makes you think you’re the Godmother?” I joke weakly with a sniffle.
She raises an eyebrow at me incredulously.
“Okay, okay, you’re the Godmother! Happy?”
“Ecstatic.” She affirms with a satisfied smile. “Anyways. Michael, well, besides being a moron, is scared. He might be the “big” brother, but he looks up to Max in more ways than Max maybe even realizes. And if Max the Saint could make a mistake, just consider the possibilities for Michael,” Maria said earnestly.
I sighed. “A bit of tact would’ve been nice.”
Maria scoffed. “Michael? Tact? What universe are you living in, Petunia?”
I cracked a smile. What universe indeed!
There was a soft knock at the door.
“Liz?” It was Michael.
Maria was about to tell him off, but I shook my head. “Come in,” I said quietly.
He opened the door slowly and stood in the doorframe looking uncharacteristically unsure of himself.
“Liz, I’m…” he began, but I cut him off.
“You don’t need to apologize, Michael. I understand. And if you’re mad at me, that’s okay, just please don’t be mad at Max. This isn’t his fault; if it’s anyone’s, it’s mine,” I said quietly, feeling tears beginning to pool again.
Michael walked into the room and pulled out the desk chair, rolling it over so he was sitting across from us.
“I’m not mad at you, Liz. And I’m not mad at Max, either.” He scrubbed his face with this hands and pushed his hair back. “I’m just…”
I cut him off again, knowing how hard it was for him to talk about anything emotional. “It’s okay, Michael. I understand.” I reached over and squeezed his hand with a small smile.
Michael stood up and held out his hand. “C’mere, kid.” To this day, he relishes in the fact that as the older brother he can legitimately call us all kids and get away with it.
I rolled my eyes and stood up. He enveloped me in a bear hug, rocking us back and forth.
“You’re going to be a great mom, Liz,” he said quietly. He gave me one last squeeze and kissed the top of my head. I just smiled.
You have no idea how much I hope you’re right.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was after 11 when Max and I finally crawled into bed. After the initial shock wore off, we spent the rest of the night just being teenagers. We talked a bit about the baby, but - even though it went unspoken - everyone knew that after the day we had, we could seriously use some semblance of normalcy.
“How are you doing?” Max asked, propping himself up on his elbow. His other hand rested low on my stomach, gently rubbing my exposed skin.
“Surprisingly okay,” I replied. And I meant it. It was true that our lives would never be the same, but that night I also realized that there are some things that will always remain no matter how far we deviate from ‘normal’.
I rested my hand over his, halting his movements. “It doesn’t seem real,” I murmured, looking from our hands to his face.
“I know,” he agreed, his thumb caressing my skin. He pushed himself off his elbow and turned over, settling between my legs. He leaned down and kissed the almost imperceptible swell of my abdomen.
“Hi baby,” he murmured, his breath leaving a trail of gooseflesh across my skin.
I giggled. “I don’t think he can hear you yet,” I said, threading my fingers through his hair.
“He?” Max looked up at me, eyebrows raised.
“Or she!” I amended, laughing as he nuzzled my stomach. “I don’t care what it is, so long as it’s healthy.” Cliche, I know, but honest.
“I wouldn’t mind a mini you bossing everyone around,” he teased.
“Me? Bossy?!” I scoffed with mock indignation. “Fine, as long as she doesn’t have your ears!” I shot back, giving his earlobe a little pinch.
“Hey!” Max yelped, swatting my hand away. “Any kid would be lucky to have my ears!” He pouted, nuzzling my abdomen.
I chuckled softly, rhythmically stroking his hair away from his face. “Max?”
“Hmm?” He hummed against my stomach before moving to stretch out next to me, his hand resting where his mouth had just been.
“Is this really happening? Are we really doing this?” I asked him. The incredulity of it all hit me in a torrent.
“It is, Lillabet. We are,” he said simply, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
I took a deep breath and nodded my head. “Okay.” I brought my hand to rest over his.
“Okay?” His eyes bore into mine, searching.
I nodded and burrowed into the crook of his neck.
“Okay.”