I didn't!!! I did? (CC ALL,TEEN) Ch 5 - 10/15/04 [WIP]
Posted: Fri Apr 16, 2004 6:10 am
I didn’t!!! I did?
CC: minor AU
Disclaimer – Don’t own any of them, borrowing them from that asshole who beinged on crack.
Rating – TEEN
Summary – I know this has been done to death but…
Taken from one of the spoilers of season 4. Someone in the gang threw back the switch. The catch is ALL of them went to another timeline…with nada memories of their miserable past lives. Well…we’ll see if the memories resurface.
Definitely Dreamer.
A little A/N - Due to the untimely and let me just say unbelievable demise of my other fic (Yer Majesty, His Zanness, if anyone recalls), I’ve decided to jack heavy stuff for a while. This one is a little laugh at our loveable (?) aliens and humans alike. Quite a bit of a handful to write, what with my muse on strike every day but hell, I’ve finally gotten up the nerve to sit at my PC and write something without feeling like sticking it to the grill. Enjoy, folks.
As for ‘Within Me’, I’ve still got plans for it but I haven’t gotten over the shock yet. I won an award for it, and as much as I’d like to forget about it, my sis, my readers (hugs) and my conscience won’t let me.
Prologue.
September 18th, 1999.
Crashdown Café, Roswell.
Liz POV.
Ok. So maybe refilling coffee pots every five seconds are the highlight of a waitress’ day but gimme a break. Five seconds? Even fish don’t take in that much liquid and the friggin’ things live in water! Yep. As you can guess, this is NOT a good time. Not a good time at all. In fact, the darnedest thing these days is that NO time is ever good enough. I swear, I’m turning into a shrew. Or something.
Yeah, along the lines of under-paid and over-worked.
No, seriously, my Dad needs to get a life. Well, scratch that. He has a life. He just needs to get himself a heart.
See, my folks own this totally cheesy alien-themed restaurant which caters alien-themed greasy food to UFO nuts. After all, I live in the infamous Roswell, New Mexico. Home to the 1947 aliens. Land of the sci-fi geeks. Domain of some of the biggest tourist torts in alien history. C’mon, who doesn’t love the place. Judging from the tourist revenues we earn, I’d say that’s a quite bit of loving.
After all, who else could claim aliens decided to invade earth and actually landed in a cornfield. Well, I can’t remember if it was a cornfield or not, but close. My national spirit is flying high.
Yeah, I ramble too. Any problem, bud? Although this is a newly acquired habit.
As I was saying…my father needs to get a life. I realize tourist traps are THE ways to get cash around here because let’s face it, rock doesn’t appreciate true genius and we happen to be in the middle of the freakin’ desert anyways, so a girl’s gotta deal here. And I do. Well, generally…dunno really.
For the last couple of weeks, something’s been going on. Maria, that’s my best friend keeps telling my it’s hormones and the horrendous autumn heat. Gotta agree there. Early to mid fall in Roswell is about as cool as hell.
But still…you’d think a smart chick like Yours Truly could figure out what’s going on in my own head. Oh, in case I didn’t mention it, I am one. A smart chick, that is. Most of the people think I’m a super geek but they’re too conscious of their own pathetic I.Q’s to ever challenge me to my face. So I get by.
Maria is the blonde in the group. She’s not dumb, far from it and I’ll stand up to any bastard who says otherwise. But she’s got a temper that’s heat matches the stinking weather. Cross Parker and you pay but cross De Luca and you die. So far, I had to haul her away from two attempted homicides. I’m probably the only person alive who can control her and I’ve made a bet with Alex that no one spawned will be able to do it, save moi.
Alex, you ask? Well, he’s my mainstay. Maria’s too. We’re the three musketeers of West Roswell High and before you start, no, it hasn’t been outdated in Roswell. Excuse me while I laugh but prior to listening to me some more, you have to get yourself conscious of this very basic fact. NOTHING, repeat after me, nothing gets outdated in Roswell. So before you laugh, think twice.
Okieee. As I was saying, Alex. He’s our best friend and he plays the bass for his band that comprises of all the losers in the school save him. Yeah, well, I happen to be loyal. I realize that he has about as much status in WRH as the next geek but he has a heart of gold and a brain that Bill Gates would kill for. I love him to bits and you should too.
Ok, well, Alex and Maria both have been complaining about my recent attitude. I don’t know…I feel hostile, restless and miserable and I get these weird flashes (that’s the only word to describe it) of myself, get this, standing in some green light with purple halos around me and LISTEN TO ME, goddammit!!!
I swear, on my Grandma’s beads, I am not making all this up. What? You think I have nothing better to do? Get real. Ok? I’m a waitress at the Crashdown Café. The class Valedictorian and I also play for the girl’s soccer team. Anyone who thinks I’m idle has shit for brains or is an alien.
I hear this indescribable sound. I swear aliens have landed. I mean, that just couldn’t have been human. The coffee mug I am holding shatters and I snap out of whatever trance I went into.
“Liiiiiiiiiiz!!!”
Jesus Christ. I shake my head, slowly. My ears still ring but it’s dying down. I glance around warily.
“Maria?”
“Don’t Maria me! I’ve been calling you, for like, a whole minute.”
Yeah, a lifetime apparently. Maria never gets subtlety and me and Alex, we dangle subtle hints over her just to see the explosion. And trust me, as physically and mentally demanding as it is to see Maria De Luca flying to pieces, it’s a hundred times more enjoyable too.
My, what interesting lives we lead.
“Hello? Earth to Parker!!”
Maria normally has one of the most exotic vocals this side of the sun but really, her shrieks shatter glass. It breaks the coffee pot in a gazillion pieces. I whirl around, ready to rip into her.
My nerves have had enough. She pouts at me.
“What the hell’s the matter with you?”
“Take your Angina Jolie act somewhere else.” I snarl back.
Maria’s torn. I can see it in her face. She doesn’t know whether to back off, laugh at my outrageous slur on the actress’ name or yell at me ‘cause I yelled at her. In the end, she makes a small O. I stifle my urge to laugh. De Luca tamed is a rare, and laughable sight. Really.
She quickly swipes the place with her green eyes. I know that look. That’s her got-caught-on-duty look. I lunge for a small mop and start busily clearing away the mess at our feet, spattering Maria and whoever’s within range with the fallen coffee. Maria’s squeal of outrage gets cut off by a screech of pure horror.
I look up, wondering which diva was it who got her skirt a little splashed.
Uh oh. Not good. NOT good.
It happens to be my mother. She has this lame charity auction she’s presiding over and this happens to be her grand outfit. I stand, motionless and pale. Murder’s written all over her face.
“Oh.” Think, Parker! “H-hi Mom.” I stutter.
Obviously, my glib charm doesn’t work. She wheezes air into her lungs, ready to scream the place down when suddenly fate intervenes. A low baritone breaks into the quiet.
“Excuse me? My coffee?”
I gulp in a lungful of air as my mother tries to control her eruption. I got a chance and I am not about to miss it.
“Sir?”
A pair of jade eyes look at me directly and I flinch. Why is this so familiar? The hunk before me scratches his ear and holds out his coffee cup. I keep staring. I’m a control freak, if you haven’t guessed it. I simply have to peg everything down or I go crazy. I know I look crazy right now, squinting at the guy but…well, DEAL. I need to place this thing!
He looks at me, obviously baffled and my would-be killer turns to me, freaked out. Maria starts breathing deeply, a sure sign she’s hyperventilating. Catching the laser-like eyes, I come back from the land of Nod.
“Huh?”
He smiles gently. “Coffee?”
Oh. OH! “Sure. Sure. Coffee. What…?” I trail off, seeing my mom turning a nasty shade of purple.
She jerks her head towards the backroom and I stifle my gulps. What? I’m scared and if you had any brains, you’d be too. My mother, pissed off, is NOT a pretty sight. I hear a soft but definitely tired sigh and I whip my wimpy self back towards the guy. Shit! Talk about customer service.
“So sorry. You wanted…?”
He sighs too. Probably wondering what a guy has to do around here to get a jolt of caffeine. I squirm some more and reach down to pick up the biggest piece of the newly-shattered coffee pot. We all let off another chorus of sighs and I tremble, reaching breaking point, fast. Maria, of course, notices this and tries to hustle my mom away so that I can at least serve my customer with a shred of dignity. Fortunately, my very angry mother takes the hint and walks back to the kitchen. I put on the java and turn back to him, determined to break the puzzle.
Of course, he’s not there when I turn. I snort. Of course.
I go back to washing the mess up. Another flash goes through me and I seem to be wading through a fog. Glasses break and I snap out of it again.
As you can guess, this is not a good time. Didn’t I mention this before? Whatever.
So my Prince Charming * on his own two legs, fine ones if I may add * (I personally don’t care overmuch for a stinking horse but whatever! ) is actually Max Evans. He’s another geek extraordinaire but it helps that he’s so easy on the eye. I mean, really. Evans has to be the hottest guy in the damn school.
He’s smart (which is a HUGE plus), he’s got a personality (something guys my age around here DON’T have) and he actually has manners. (Notice the rescue?) These are all alien concepts in WRH and Max Evans is the sole male in possession of these somewhat unique qualities.
Of course, there are a few catches. Like, first of all, the guy’s just too quiet. In fact, he’s so quiet he’s downright creepy! Secondly, he’s always hanging around that unwashed piece of…something. I can’t call him human and by Maria’s terms, that’s letting him off easy. But there’s definitely something weird going on with those two. I still think they’re gay but that rumor’s been hotly contested by the gaggle of girls, pining away for Evans. And since you can guess how much I care about the girls’ opinions, you know exactly what I think of Max, right? Right? Right. So there.
Ok. Going OT again. But seriously, the main thing that works against Evans, IMO is his sibling. Isablah Evans, Queen of WRH, the ultimate cliché in high-school history with her perfect smile and perfect hair and flawless skin and ab-so-lu-te-ly dead personality. And if it weren’t for the fact that the Ice princess actually spared time from her manicuring sessions to bake cookies for the children’s hospital, I’d say she was completely devoid of human feelings except contempt for everyone around her. But then again, the la-di-da donated her time so generously and with enough fanfare to make the national news that I wonder at times, what really is the motive behind it all. Like I can’t guess?
But that’s enough of Max Evans. Freakiest part about this guy is that I see him everywhere. And I do mean everywhere. He’s my lab partner and somehow I manage to see him, no less than five times a day at school. Not to mention the Crash. I mean, he’s here like every single day. It’s practically freezing out there and he’ll be in here, sipping a coffee like it’s normal to walk around in weather like that. I swear, his tabs alone cover the electricity bill here. If I were the paranoid type, I’d suspect a conspiracy but since I’m not, the boyo’s safe.
Something dings and I wearily turn back to the coffee pot. I clutch it in my hands, forgetting its red-hot and scream as my palms get fresh with it.
“Arrrrrghhhhh!!” The ninety year old ‘waitress’ and I use the term loosely faints dead away. I squelch my rising shrieks and rush to the sink.
Grabbing a handful of icy water, I drench Agnes, watching with satisfaction as she comes to life.
“Ugh! Why’d you do that, you stupid girl?” she howls from the floor.
Yeah, I’m smothered by the gratitude. I sigh and turn away to tend to my poor palms. They are a fiery red. Ick.
No, see I’m not always such a klutz but the last couple of weeks haven’t exactly been normal. Did I or did I not mention all of this earlier? Well. Anyways the point is and I don’t have to be a fortune-teller to do this but this day is going to suck. Not that it hasn’t already but I tell ya, it’s going to get worse.
See? SEE? I’m even freakin my own self out! Since when did I turn out to be a fortune teller? I never believed in them! Oh my God! I need a drink. Scratch that. I need to eat. Fast.
My order goes up and I glare miserably at Jose, the grill chef. He smirks back at me and lumbers away. Bastard! I pick up the order and start towards the table.
The couple who’s sitting there look straight out of a bad sci-fi movie. I mean…c’mon. The fact that they were tourists is as glaringly obvious as the blisters in my hand.
I sigh. Life’s not fair. Clearing my throat, I smile.
“Okay, I have got one Sigourney Weaver, that's for you. And one Will Smith. Can I get you guys anything else? Green Martian Shake? Blood of Alien smoothie??”
Say no! Say no!
Apparently, they hear.
“No, thanks. We're good”.
Oh thank God. I’ll have murder on my conscience if I have to make a smoothie now.
I want some cash to get me through this ordeal so I lead them on.
“Are you guys here for the crash festival?”
The freak solemnly answers back. “Yeah, can't wait. So...does your family come from Roswell??”
Hah! What’d I tell you?
“Just the four generations.” I reply, just as solemn.
The geek yaks. “Uh, well, does anyone in your family have stories about the UFO crash?”
I knew it. I smother my rising hysteria and roll my eyes at Maria who walks behind me to the front booth. Two men are sitting there, arguing and something chills my skin as I take in the noise they’re creating.
Wait. I have a mission to accomplish. I whip out a tattered photograph. “Well, I guess it would be O.K. to show you guys this....”
They freak out over it, as predicted and my sudden ability to foretell the future has me in nervous knots. This is just plain crazy! I need to get away.
“My grandmother took this picture at the crash sight RIGHT before the government cleaned it up.”
They look blown away. I keep my howls from erupting.
“Do people know about this photograph?” That’s ‘Jen’. Code name: freak.
I look at her with my wide doe eyes open. “Well, I know about it, and now you know about it.”
A chorus of wows. Huyk!
I straighten up, confident this’ll get me the tip of a lifetime. “I'm gonna be right back. Don't show that to anyone.”
I look at that eagerness there and I want to puke. Maria joins me and we stroll back to the counter. Spying the coffee pot, I wince.
“Shit.”
“You are sooo bad, girl.”
Huh? Wow. If Maria noticed, then Max Evans must be plenty mad at me by now. I hurry for the mugs but she beats me to it. “And Max Evans is staring at you again.”
“I know!" I moan. "I’m so sorry. And I got totally tangled with those fools! These UFO freaks scare the daylights outta me. How can anyone be so clueless? How the hell do they live every day anyways?”
I see Maria staring at me. “What?”
“ ‘What?’ I thought you’d be yapping about how no one notices you and that he certainly doesn’t, not to mention the fact that the steady and loyal Kyle Valenti who appreciates you and sounds like a poodle in the process was Da Man at the moment.”
“Oh. Oh. No. I mean, yes, he’s Da Man at the moment and no I don’t care who’s staring and if he is staring then that’s bad ‘cause he ordered a coffee like, aeons ago. Please?”
Yeah, drop it, babe. Not a good day to harass Liz Parker but then again, it’s not like my Maria actually cares about sensitivity and all that stuff.
She surprisingly gives me a ‘look’ and fills the cups. I sigh, happy my ordeal is nearly over. Five more minutes and I have a break due. Thank freakin’ god!
I slink out from behind the counter as Maria moves out. I feel a force. It hits me so hard I practically fall down. It is compulsive. From somewhere deep within me, there is something screaming for me to get down.
Hello? I realize this has been a rough day but seriously, I think I need a shrink.
I hear glass breaking and I duck. A gun goes off and a bullet passes not two millimeters away from me. I stifle my screams and just lie there. I don’t look too alive. I hear Maria’s screams and suddenly, propelled by that weird compulsion, I get up on my feet, at the same moment when Max Evans ducks under Michael’s arm and starts towards me.
I gulp in air, feeling my last fragile hold on reality crumbling slowly and I sway but again, something’s telling me to stand strong. And stay the hell away from Max! Jesus, I must be more shaken than I thought!
Max notices that I’m standing up and I can’t say I’m disappointed at the frantic way his eyes run over me. Wow. Color me shocked. If I were capable of any coherent thought I’d have noticed the look in his face. I don’t. All I see is something shining rather fiercely in his gorgeous eyes and I go “wow’. No doubt about it, the guy’s a hunk.
Yeah. Maybe after a good meal and some sort of rest I’ll be able to recall all that had happened but right now, my mind’s occupied with how bright the sky looks and how badly Max’s fierce eyes are winning out over the sun. Poor thing. I suppose it’s hard to compete with.
I smile inanely as he stands off to a side, his eyes on me, his face white, his chest heaving as if he’d run a mile. Now I wonder what’s he so worked up about? I was the one who got shot.
Wait a minute. I shake my head, trying my best not to dislodge it. There’s this sense of premonition and I feel sick.
Who’d have thunk it? Me, cool under fire Parker coming apart at the sight of an emergency. Crazy, I tell you.
What’s this about a shot? And what’s it got to do with a guy I barely have any contact with? What the fuck is going on in here? And don’t dare lecture me on my manners. If you’d have been as close to that little bit of lead as I’d been, no doubt you’d be whining your head off. And if I seem hyper right now, I confess. I had too much sugar in the morning.
Ok. Enough. ENOUGH. I had it up to here with you. Shut the hell up ‘cause I need to make some sense now.
I see my father rushing in and I blank out. Literally. I mouth all the usual reassurances and he folds me in one giant hug. I sag into his strong arms, feeling, for the first time in this crazy day, some semblance of peace.
And as I close my eyes, I don’t see Max turning green. I don’t see Maria sniffing her oils, I don’t see Sheriff Valenti walk in, I don’t feel the nervous energy coming from two people in the corner, I don’t even hear the sirens blaring. All I feel is peace. I hold that feeling close to me as the questioning resumes. I ignore everyone as much as they’d let me. Obviously my father stepped in because the sheriff doesn’t ask me anything and for that I’m eternally grateful.
I see Michael something hauling Max out of there and I give him a cheery wave. After all, he never got his coffee. He stares at me, wide-eyed.
What? Never saw a girl wave before, dude? Well, obviously not one that avoided a collision with death…I’ll give him that much. But what the hell.
I’m still in that place. Nothing touches me, not even Maria’s constant babbling. I feel nada. Actually, it all feels great. I smile happily at my dad and he too, stares at me in something that looks a lot like disbelief. Now why do that, Dad? You look slightly hideous. I mean, frowning reveals all those lines. I got that from Cosmopolitan when I was thirteen and Maria had bitched so much that to finally get her off my back, I’d bought the damn thing. See? I knew it’d come to some good use.
I catch words like “in shock” and “scared” and I smile harder. I’m not. Really. Why wouldn’t they believe me? What-the-friggin’-ever. I go up the stairs for a hot bath. I know it’s like scalding outside but still. I need to soak for a while. I leave Maria gaping behind me. Now what?
As I fling the buttons on my disgusting teal uniform open, I start. For a second, I think I saw something glowing on my stomach. I run to the mirror. Nothing. Smooth skin. A tad bit of a tummy but nothing else that’s out of the ordinary. So what was the flash about? I give up. It’s unheard of, but really, there’s a first time for everything. I GIVE UP. I don’t care about freakin' flashes. I’ll stay saner longer this way. I throw in some sandalwood bath salts into the hot water and plop down, immediately feeling better. My strawberry soap melts into a red puddle and I feel like smiling but I can’t make my face do it. As the water washes over me, I try to squash a singular thought back into my poor mind.
How’d I know it was all coming?
Xsara
CC: minor AU
Disclaimer – Don’t own any of them, borrowing them from that asshole who beinged on crack.
Rating – TEEN
Summary – I know this has been done to death but…
Taken from one of the spoilers of season 4. Someone in the gang threw back the switch. The catch is ALL of them went to another timeline…with nada memories of their miserable past lives. Well…we’ll see if the memories resurface.
Definitely Dreamer.
A little A/N - Due to the untimely and let me just say unbelievable demise of my other fic (Yer Majesty, His Zanness, if anyone recalls), I’ve decided to jack heavy stuff for a while. This one is a little laugh at our loveable (?) aliens and humans alike. Quite a bit of a handful to write, what with my muse on strike every day but hell, I’ve finally gotten up the nerve to sit at my PC and write something without feeling like sticking it to the grill. Enjoy, folks.
As for ‘Within Me’, I’ve still got plans for it but I haven’t gotten over the shock yet. I won an award for it, and as much as I’d like to forget about it, my sis, my readers (hugs) and my conscience won’t let me.
Prologue.
September 18th, 1999.
Crashdown Café, Roswell.
Liz POV.
Ok. So maybe refilling coffee pots every five seconds are the highlight of a waitress’ day but gimme a break. Five seconds? Even fish don’t take in that much liquid and the friggin’ things live in water! Yep. As you can guess, this is NOT a good time. Not a good time at all. In fact, the darnedest thing these days is that NO time is ever good enough. I swear, I’m turning into a shrew. Or something.
Yeah, along the lines of under-paid and over-worked.
No, seriously, my Dad needs to get a life. Well, scratch that. He has a life. He just needs to get himself a heart.
See, my folks own this totally cheesy alien-themed restaurant which caters alien-themed greasy food to UFO nuts. After all, I live in the infamous Roswell, New Mexico. Home to the 1947 aliens. Land of the sci-fi geeks. Domain of some of the biggest tourist torts in alien history. C’mon, who doesn’t love the place. Judging from the tourist revenues we earn, I’d say that’s a quite bit of loving.
After all, who else could claim aliens decided to invade earth and actually landed in a cornfield. Well, I can’t remember if it was a cornfield or not, but close. My national spirit is flying high.
Yeah, I ramble too. Any problem, bud? Although this is a newly acquired habit.
As I was saying…my father needs to get a life. I realize tourist traps are THE ways to get cash around here because let’s face it, rock doesn’t appreciate true genius and we happen to be in the middle of the freakin’ desert anyways, so a girl’s gotta deal here. And I do. Well, generally…dunno really.
For the last couple of weeks, something’s been going on. Maria, that’s my best friend keeps telling my it’s hormones and the horrendous autumn heat. Gotta agree there. Early to mid fall in Roswell is about as cool as hell.
But still…you’d think a smart chick like Yours Truly could figure out what’s going on in my own head. Oh, in case I didn’t mention it, I am one. A smart chick, that is. Most of the people think I’m a super geek but they’re too conscious of their own pathetic I.Q’s to ever challenge me to my face. So I get by.
Maria is the blonde in the group. She’s not dumb, far from it and I’ll stand up to any bastard who says otherwise. But she’s got a temper that’s heat matches the stinking weather. Cross Parker and you pay but cross De Luca and you die. So far, I had to haul her away from two attempted homicides. I’m probably the only person alive who can control her and I’ve made a bet with Alex that no one spawned will be able to do it, save moi.
Alex, you ask? Well, he’s my mainstay. Maria’s too. We’re the three musketeers of West Roswell High and before you start, no, it hasn’t been outdated in Roswell. Excuse me while I laugh but prior to listening to me some more, you have to get yourself conscious of this very basic fact. NOTHING, repeat after me, nothing gets outdated in Roswell. So before you laugh, think twice.
Okieee. As I was saying, Alex. He’s our best friend and he plays the bass for his band that comprises of all the losers in the school save him. Yeah, well, I happen to be loyal. I realize that he has about as much status in WRH as the next geek but he has a heart of gold and a brain that Bill Gates would kill for. I love him to bits and you should too.
Ok, well, Alex and Maria both have been complaining about my recent attitude. I don’t know…I feel hostile, restless and miserable and I get these weird flashes (that’s the only word to describe it) of myself, get this, standing in some green light with purple halos around me and LISTEN TO ME, goddammit!!!
I swear, on my Grandma’s beads, I am not making all this up. What? You think I have nothing better to do? Get real. Ok? I’m a waitress at the Crashdown Café. The class Valedictorian and I also play for the girl’s soccer team. Anyone who thinks I’m idle has shit for brains or is an alien.
I hear this indescribable sound. I swear aliens have landed. I mean, that just couldn’t have been human. The coffee mug I am holding shatters and I snap out of whatever trance I went into.
“Liiiiiiiiiiz!!!”
Jesus Christ. I shake my head, slowly. My ears still ring but it’s dying down. I glance around warily.
“Maria?”
“Don’t Maria me! I’ve been calling you, for like, a whole minute.”
Yeah, a lifetime apparently. Maria never gets subtlety and me and Alex, we dangle subtle hints over her just to see the explosion. And trust me, as physically and mentally demanding as it is to see Maria De Luca flying to pieces, it’s a hundred times more enjoyable too.
My, what interesting lives we lead.
“Hello? Earth to Parker!!”
Maria normally has one of the most exotic vocals this side of the sun but really, her shrieks shatter glass. It breaks the coffee pot in a gazillion pieces. I whirl around, ready to rip into her.
My nerves have had enough. She pouts at me.
“What the hell’s the matter with you?”
“Take your Angina Jolie act somewhere else.” I snarl back.
Maria’s torn. I can see it in her face. She doesn’t know whether to back off, laugh at my outrageous slur on the actress’ name or yell at me ‘cause I yelled at her. In the end, she makes a small O. I stifle my urge to laugh. De Luca tamed is a rare, and laughable sight. Really.
She quickly swipes the place with her green eyes. I know that look. That’s her got-caught-on-duty look. I lunge for a small mop and start busily clearing away the mess at our feet, spattering Maria and whoever’s within range with the fallen coffee. Maria’s squeal of outrage gets cut off by a screech of pure horror.
I look up, wondering which diva was it who got her skirt a little splashed.
Uh oh. Not good. NOT good.
It happens to be my mother. She has this lame charity auction she’s presiding over and this happens to be her grand outfit. I stand, motionless and pale. Murder’s written all over her face.
“Oh.” Think, Parker! “H-hi Mom.” I stutter.
Obviously, my glib charm doesn’t work. She wheezes air into her lungs, ready to scream the place down when suddenly fate intervenes. A low baritone breaks into the quiet.
“Excuse me? My coffee?”
I gulp in a lungful of air as my mother tries to control her eruption. I got a chance and I am not about to miss it.
“Sir?”
A pair of jade eyes look at me directly and I flinch. Why is this so familiar? The hunk before me scratches his ear and holds out his coffee cup. I keep staring. I’m a control freak, if you haven’t guessed it. I simply have to peg everything down or I go crazy. I know I look crazy right now, squinting at the guy but…well, DEAL. I need to place this thing!
He looks at me, obviously baffled and my would-be killer turns to me, freaked out. Maria starts breathing deeply, a sure sign she’s hyperventilating. Catching the laser-like eyes, I come back from the land of Nod.
“Huh?”
He smiles gently. “Coffee?”
Oh. OH! “Sure. Sure. Coffee. What…?” I trail off, seeing my mom turning a nasty shade of purple.
She jerks her head towards the backroom and I stifle my gulps. What? I’m scared and if you had any brains, you’d be too. My mother, pissed off, is NOT a pretty sight. I hear a soft but definitely tired sigh and I whip my wimpy self back towards the guy. Shit! Talk about customer service.
“So sorry. You wanted…?”
He sighs too. Probably wondering what a guy has to do around here to get a jolt of caffeine. I squirm some more and reach down to pick up the biggest piece of the newly-shattered coffee pot. We all let off another chorus of sighs and I tremble, reaching breaking point, fast. Maria, of course, notices this and tries to hustle my mom away so that I can at least serve my customer with a shred of dignity. Fortunately, my very angry mother takes the hint and walks back to the kitchen. I put on the java and turn back to him, determined to break the puzzle.
Of course, he’s not there when I turn. I snort. Of course.
I go back to washing the mess up. Another flash goes through me and I seem to be wading through a fog. Glasses break and I snap out of it again.
As you can guess, this is not a good time. Didn’t I mention this before? Whatever.
So my Prince Charming * on his own two legs, fine ones if I may add * (I personally don’t care overmuch for a stinking horse but whatever! ) is actually Max Evans. He’s another geek extraordinaire but it helps that he’s so easy on the eye. I mean, really. Evans has to be the hottest guy in the damn school.
He’s smart (which is a HUGE plus), he’s got a personality (something guys my age around here DON’T have) and he actually has manners. (Notice the rescue?) These are all alien concepts in WRH and Max Evans is the sole male in possession of these somewhat unique qualities.
Of course, there are a few catches. Like, first of all, the guy’s just too quiet. In fact, he’s so quiet he’s downright creepy! Secondly, he’s always hanging around that unwashed piece of…something. I can’t call him human and by Maria’s terms, that’s letting him off easy. But there’s definitely something weird going on with those two. I still think they’re gay but that rumor’s been hotly contested by the gaggle of girls, pining away for Evans. And since you can guess how much I care about the girls’ opinions, you know exactly what I think of Max, right? Right? Right. So there.
Ok. Going OT again. But seriously, the main thing that works against Evans, IMO is his sibling. Isablah Evans, Queen of WRH, the ultimate cliché in high-school history with her perfect smile and perfect hair and flawless skin and ab-so-lu-te-ly dead personality. And if it weren’t for the fact that the Ice princess actually spared time from her manicuring sessions to bake cookies for the children’s hospital, I’d say she was completely devoid of human feelings except contempt for everyone around her. But then again, the la-di-da donated her time so generously and with enough fanfare to make the national news that I wonder at times, what really is the motive behind it all. Like I can’t guess?
But that’s enough of Max Evans. Freakiest part about this guy is that I see him everywhere. And I do mean everywhere. He’s my lab partner and somehow I manage to see him, no less than five times a day at school. Not to mention the Crash. I mean, he’s here like every single day. It’s practically freezing out there and he’ll be in here, sipping a coffee like it’s normal to walk around in weather like that. I swear, his tabs alone cover the electricity bill here. If I were the paranoid type, I’d suspect a conspiracy but since I’m not, the boyo’s safe.
Something dings and I wearily turn back to the coffee pot. I clutch it in my hands, forgetting its red-hot and scream as my palms get fresh with it.
“Arrrrrghhhhh!!” The ninety year old ‘waitress’ and I use the term loosely faints dead away. I squelch my rising shrieks and rush to the sink.
Grabbing a handful of icy water, I drench Agnes, watching with satisfaction as she comes to life.
“Ugh! Why’d you do that, you stupid girl?” she howls from the floor.
Yeah, I’m smothered by the gratitude. I sigh and turn away to tend to my poor palms. They are a fiery red. Ick.
No, see I’m not always such a klutz but the last couple of weeks haven’t exactly been normal. Did I or did I not mention all of this earlier? Well. Anyways the point is and I don’t have to be a fortune-teller to do this but this day is going to suck. Not that it hasn’t already but I tell ya, it’s going to get worse.
See? SEE? I’m even freakin my own self out! Since when did I turn out to be a fortune teller? I never believed in them! Oh my God! I need a drink. Scratch that. I need to eat. Fast.
My order goes up and I glare miserably at Jose, the grill chef. He smirks back at me and lumbers away. Bastard! I pick up the order and start towards the table.
The couple who’s sitting there look straight out of a bad sci-fi movie. I mean…c’mon. The fact that they were tourists is as glaringly obvious as the blisters in my hand.
I sigh. Life’s not fair. Clearing my throat, I smile.
“Okay, I have got one Sigourney Weaver, that's for you. And one Will Smith. Can I get you guys anything else? Green Martian Shake? Blood of Alien smoothie??”
Say no! Say no!
Apparently, they hear.
“No, thanks. We're good”.
Oh thank God. I’ll have murder on my conscience if I have to make a smoothie now.
I want some cash to get me through this ordeal so I lead them on.
“Are you guys here for the crash festival?”
The freak solemnly answers back. “Yeah, can't wait. So...does your family come from Roswell??”
Hah! What’d I tell you?
“Just the four generations.” I reply, just as solemn.
The geek yaks. “Uh, well, does anyone in your family have stories about the UFO crash?”
I knew it. I smother my rising hysteria and roll my eyes at Maria who walks behind me to the front booth. Two men are sitting there, arguing and something chills my skin as I take in the noise they’re creating.
Wait. I have a mission to accomplish. I whip out a tattered photograph. “Well, I guess it would be O.K. to show you guys this....”
They freak out over it, as predicted and my sudden ability to foretell the future has me in nervous knots. This is just plain crazy! I need to get away.
“My grandmother took this picture at the crash sight RIGHT before the government cleaned it up.”
They look blown away. I keep my howls from erupting.
“Do people know about this photograph?” That’s ‘Jen’. Code name: freak.
I look at her with my wide doe eyes open. “Well, I know about it, and now you know about it.”
A chorus of wows. Huyk!
I straighten up, confident this’ll get me the tip of a lifetime. “I'm gonna be right back. Don't show that to anyone.”
I look at that eagerness there and I want to puke. Maria joins me and we stroll back to the counter. Spying the coffee pot, I wince.
“Shit.”
“You are sooo bad, girl.”
Huh? Wow. If Maria noticed, then Max Evans must be plenty mad at me by now. I hurry for the mugs but she beats me to it. “And Max Evans is staring at you again.”
“I know!" I moan. "I’m so sorry. And I got totally tangled with those fools! These UFO freaks scare the daylights outta me. How can anyone be so clueless? How the hell do they live every day anyways?”
I see Maria staring at me. “What?”
“ ‘What?’ I thought you’d be yapping about how no one notices you and that he certainly doesn’t, not to mention the fact that the steady and loyal Kyle Valenti who appreciates you and sounds like a poodle in the process was Da Man at the moment.”
“Oh. Oh. No. I mean, yes, he’s Da Man at the moment and no I don’t care who’s staring and if he is staring then that’s bad ‘cause he ordered a coffee like, aeons ago. Please?”
Yeah, drop it, babe. Not a good day to harass Liz Parker but then again, it’s not like my Maria actually cares about sensitivity and all that stuff.
She surprisingly gives me a ‘look’ and fills the cups. I sigh, happy my ordeal is nearly over. Five more minutes and I have a break due. Thank freakin’ god!
I slink out from behind the counter as Maria moves out. I feel a force. It hits me so hard I practically fall down. It is compulsive. From somewhere deep within me, there is something screaming for me to get down.
Hello? I realize this has been a rough day but seriously, I think I need a shrink.
I hear glass breaking and I duck. A gun goes off and a bullet passes not two millimeters away from me. I stifle my screams and just lie there. I don’t look too alive. I hear Maria’s screams and suddenly, propelled by that weird compulsion, I get up on my feet, at the same moment when Max Evans ducks under Michael’s arm and starts towards me.
I gulp in air, feeling my last fragile hold on reality crumbling slowly and I sway but again, something’s telling me to stand strong. And stay the hell away from Max! Jesus, I must be more shaken than I thought!
Max notices that I’m standing up and I can’t say I’m disappointed at the frantic way his eyes run over me. Wow. Color me shocked. If I were capable of any coherent thought I’d have noticed the look in his face. I don’t. All I see is something shining rather fiercely in his gorgeous eyes and I go “wow’. No doubt about it, the guy’s a hunk.
Yeah. Maybe after a good meal and some sort of rest I’ll be able to recall all that had happened but right now, my mind’s occupied with how bright the sky looks and how badly Max’s fierce eyes are winning out over the sun. Poor thing. I suppose it’s hard to compete with.
I smile inanely as he stands off to a side, his eyes on me, his face white, his chest heaving as if he’d run a mile. Now I wonder what’s he so worked up about? I was the one who got shot.
Wait a minute. I shake my head, trying my best not to dislodge it. There’s this sense of premonition and I feel sick.
Who’d have thunk it? Me, cool under fire Parker coming apart at the sight of an emergency. Crazy, I tell you.
What’s this about a shot? And what’s it got to do with a guy I barely have any contact with? What the fuck is going on in here? And don’t dare lecture me on my manners. If you’d have been as close to that little bit of lead as I’d been, no doubt you’d be whining your head off. And if I seem hyper right now, I confess. I had too much sugar in the morning.
Ok. Enough. ENOUGH. I had it up to here with you. Shut the hell up ‘cause I need to make some sense now.
I see my father rushing in and I blank out. Literally. I mouth all the usual reassurances and he folds me in one giant hug. I sag into his strong arms, feeling, for the first time in this crazy day, some semblance of peace.
And as I close my eyes, I don’t see Max turning green. I don’t see Maria sniffing her oils, I don’t see Sheriff Valenti walk in, I don’t feel the nervous energy coming from two people in the corner, I don’t even hear the sirens blaring. All I feel is peace. I hold that feeling close to me as the questioning resumes. I ignore everyone as much as they’d let me. Obviously my father stepped in because the sheriff doesn’t ask me anything and for that I’m eternally grateful.
I see Michael something hauling Max out of there and I give him a cheery wave. After all, he never got his coffee. He stares at me, wide-eyed.
What? Never saw a girl wave before, dude? Well, obviously not one that avoided a collision with death…I’ll give him that much. But what the hell.
I’m still in that place. Nothing touches me, not even Maria’s constant babbling. I feel nada. Actually, it all feels great. I smile happily at my dad and he too, stares at me in something that looks a lot like disbelief. Now why do that, Dad? You look slightly hideous. I mean, frowning reveals all those lines. I got that from Cosmopolitan when I was thirteen and Maria had bitched so much that to finally get her off my back, I’d bought the damn thing. See? I knew it’d come to some good use.
I catch words like “in shock” and “scared” and I smile harder. I’m not. Really. Why wouldn’t they believe me? What-the-friggin’-ever. I go up the stairs for a hot bath. I know it’s like scalding outside but still. I need to soak for a while. I leave Maria gaping behind me. Now what?
As I fling the buttons on my disgusting teal uniform open, I start. For a second, I think I saw something glowing on my stomach. I run to the mirror. Nothing. Smooth skin. A tad bit of a tummy but nothing else that’s out of the ordinary. So what was the flash about? I give up. It’s unheard of, but really, there’s a first time for everything. I GIVE UP. I don’t care about freakin' flashes. I’ll stay saner longer this way. I throw in some sandalwood bath salts into the hot water and plop down, immediately feeling better. My strawberry soap melts into a red puddle and I feel like smiling but I can’t make my face do it. As the water washes over me, I try to squash a singular thought back into my poor mind.
How’d I know it was all coming?
Xsara