Roswell Fanatics

Title: The Wish
Author: RavenSprite (me, Sam)
Category: Loyalist (Liz/Kyle)
Rating: TEEN to ADULT
Disclamer: I don’t own anything. Roswell belongs to UPN and the WB.
Summary: AU/No Aliens. An adaptation of the movie “Thirteen Going on Thirty.” Some things will be slightly different, but it’s still the same nonetheless. I loved the movie and decided to give it a little Loyalist spin. Hope you enjoy!
Comment: Feedback’s always appreciated!

PROLOGUE

“So?”

“So what?”

“So… do you feel any different?”

Liz Parker sighed, her eyes traveling to the mirror installed in her locker, looking over herself once more. Her brown hair was still dull, lifeless, and plainly straight. Her eyes were a dark brown that resembled mud, and who wanted to look at mud, anyway? Her body, oh God her body, was still that of a short toothpick. Biting her lip inwardly, she couldn’t help cursing the gods. Why did Liz have to be a skinny little waif while Isabel Evans sported ample growing breasts and Tess Harding pranced around her beautiful curves?

“No,” Liz muttered to her best friend, Kyle Valenti. “Who ever said going from fifteen to sixteen was a huge difference obviously lied, and let me tell ya, there ain't much sweet about it.”

They were walking outside of their class, and Liz stopped for a minute, the wind knocked out of her as she spotted Max Evans. Of course, he walked right past her. She wasn’t like the group he’d just joined at the jock-and-cheerleading table. Tess Harding’s gleeful laughter earned a groan from Kyle, as he and Liz sat down next to their good friend, Alexander Whitman.

Liz could tell, just by Tess’s flagrant hand gestures, she was in total gossip mode, laughing not-so-silently about their newest victim of spiteful rumoring, Alex Whitman himself. Of course, Tess could never spew poison without her other half, Isabel Evans. They were each other’s shadows. One could not be seen without the other. Every party Tess attended, Isabel did as well. Every school activity, namely cheerleading, Isabel lead, Tess co-lead as well.

So Tess continued with her hand gestures, sporting a very flashy red nail polish that wholesome Elizabeth Parker would never dare to wear—although she would like to.

Red was Isabel’s favorite color. It was wild and beautiful, much like Isabel herself. She had long, perfect golden blonde hair and dark, hazel brown eyes, while Tess was the petite blonde with pale, pale blue eyes. They were both indescribably gorgeous—it was usually hard to choose which one was prettier, although everyone usually alternated the names, depending on which case presented itself, whether it was Icy Isabel or Temptress Tessa.

Liz had always wondered what it would be like to have that kind of power, be considered that kind of pretty. Isabel and Tess, they were different, in color, shape, and size. Yet, both were devastatingly charming and beautiful. Everywhere they went, heads swiveled along the way. Every week a new boy toy—although Isabel’s constant squeeze was the delectable Michael Guerin, and Tess’s was the object of Liz’s affection, Max.

Whatever the case, whatever the look, Isabel and Tess just sparkled.

For once, Liz would like to sparkle on her own.

“She’ll totally fall for me,” Alex was boasting, bringing Liz out of her thoughts.

Kyle laughed good-naturedly—Kyle always had an infectious, cute laugh. “Sure. Of course. The ice princess with the untamable attitude. The most popular girl in school.”

“I can totally domesticate her,” Alex answered, waving his hand unimportantly.

Liz beamed at him, shaking her head at his mock confidence. Alex was transferred student they had just met. A sophomore like Liz and Kyle, he was cheerful, dorky, and adorable—and had fallen in love with Isabel Evans the moment he’d met her.

“Don’t talk about anything involving Max, like his sister. Liz will go in a trance,” Kyle muttered, half-joking.

“He seems to busy with the She-Devil,” Liz muttered.

Alex turned so his back would face the sun. “Who is the She Devil?”

Kyle grinned. “Tess Harding herself. She and Isabel always call dibs of Max’s group, the Gang Bang.”

“Gang BAng?” Alex asked confused.

He was still fairly new, the year had just begun, so he didn’t know yet all of the ropes of Roswell High.

Liz grinned. “Gang Bang is a combination of all the popular guys that play different sports. Rath Jeffrey’s, a total man whore, is on the swim team. Michael Guerin, Max’s best friend, is on the football team. Max is on track. These guys, while all gorgeous, are big time players. They are really charming, and always trying to get into someone’s pants. They’re hailed heroes in this school. Like, if you talk to them or sit with them, you’re golden.”

Alex opened his mouth in an ‘O’ shape.

“Little Lizzie’s been in love with Max since she saw him step out of a bus when we were seven,” Kyle put in.

Liz socked him. “Kyle! I am not!”

Alex smiled at them amusingly. “Do you always fight like this?”

“He/She starts it!” they both said in unison.

That usually happened, or they echoed each other’s thoughts or they finished each other’s sentences. There was a very in sync, comfortable camaraderie between them that Alex had envied a little. They’d almost never be without each other; there wasn’t one significant secret in the other’s lives that all four didn’t know about.

Liz peered over at Max. At the moment he was focusing on eating his burger, barely aware of Tess hanging around him, or Michael and Rath making stupid jokes and tripping the lower freshmen. He was gorgeous. Six feet tall, with dark, dark hair and amber-hazel soulful eyes, a very well-toned body and a lucky leather jacket that almost never left him. He, unlike his teammates, never wore his jersey.

She had, of course, been completely besotted to him the moment she’d laid eyes on him, much like Alex with Isabel.

“He’s just… a beautiful man of godlike proportions,” Liz breathed dreamily, propping her face in her hand.

Alex chewed on his baloney sandwich thoughtfully. “You know, Lizzie, he seems to be looking back.”

Kyle huffed something under his breath. “Flirts with her all the time, the bastard.”

“Yeah, but the guy flirts shamelessly with every breathing female in our school,” Liz protested sadly, her hopes dashing. Well, not every breathing female—just the pretty ones. The entire school was really a superficial mess. It was a very expensive, very prestigious school, and everyone always strived to wear the best clothes and date the best looking people. Everyone was usually spiteful to each other. He was known however, to have a soft spot for dark-haired girls—which made her gleeful, and slightly hopeful he wasn’t too keen on Tess anyway.

Kyle sighed. “True. But I still say I’m right about this. I get vibes, you know.”

“Yes. Your always precise vibes.”

“You shouldn’t mock me, babe. I’ve been right in the past—Buddha has never steered me wrong.”

“Uh…”

“You do remember Frankie Palmer, don’t you?”

Liz groaned.

Kyle smiled triumphantly. “I told you he had the hots for you.”

“Yeah, I know—”

“You chose to ignore me. Said you were just friends, what you said.”

“Yes, but—”

“And what happened to Frankie Palmer?”

Alex realized Kyle was now looking at him. “Oh!” Alex said. “Um, what happened to Frankie Palmer?” he asked dutifully.

“Total stalker called her like, all the time. Wrote her stupid bad poetry then went around smelling her hair and building her a shrine. He transferred schools recently but I know that if he’d been here, he would have continued with his psychopathic tendencies,” Kyle revealed.

“Wow,” Alex breathed.

“And let’s not get started on Sean!” Kyle persisted.

“I get the point, Kyle!” Liz hissed at her best friend. Shaking her head she turned to Alex. “Sean was my first and only boyfriend during freshman year. Kyle said there was something fishy about him and surely enough, he was cheating on me with the entire cheerleading squad—including Tess Harding.”

“She really gets around, doesn’t she?” Alex asked, shuddering.

Liz’s eyes narrowed with hatred. “Does she have to be all over Max like that?”

“I heard she was in the janitor room with Jimmy Olson,” Alex piped up.

“Dude, she’s always in that room.”

The bell rang which signaled their lunch time was over.

“All right, kids, time to pretend to bump into Isabel so she’ll yell at me,” Alex said, waving to them and practically running in the direction Isabel had left to not long ago.

“So, birthday girl, we’re still on for tonight, right?” Kyle asked hopefully, eyes sparkling.

It was tradition. Every Wednesday night Kyle would always climb to her balcony and they’d watch movies together. And on her birthday it was no different.

Liz nodded, smiling at him. “Sure! See ya tonight Kyle!” she greeted chirpily, waving at him before turning around and smacking loudly into a well-toned chest.

Smacking loudly into Max Evans.

Thanks for the feedback guys! Here's chapter one. The story's about to unravel... Thanks to my wonderful beta, burningchaos whom without I could not do this!

CHAPTER #1

Oh, lordy lord, she’d just bumped into him, and he wasn’t just anyone—he was Max-fucking-Evans. He was The Golden Boy, the football hero, the gorgeous god, she’d been dreaming about him forever, and had loved him from afar ever since she’d seen him as a nine-year old boy try to save a bird that had fallen from a tree. She’d devoted much of her time in class attempting to peek at him when he wasn’t looking, walking the halls where she knew she’d bump into him, dream and fantasizing about having many, many beautiful babies with her hair and his eyes. Oh, lordy lord…

He was chuckling it was a deep, velvety voice, rich and smooth and oh-so-swoon worthy. What set him apart from every other hot guy in school was not just his name, he was known to everyone as Max-fucking-Evans. No, it was that he was smart. Brilliantly smart, a tough debater who was bound to become a successful lawyer. He was sweet, and kind, and charming. At times, shy. At others, playful. You never knew with him. He was an enigma. Many times you’d stare into his tawny, beautiful, sensual orbs, and never know what he was thinking—whether he was undressing you with his sexy gaze or doing a mathematical equation in his head.

Liz remembered when she’d been racking her brain at a chemistry equation all day, and Max had finished it in fifteen minutes. She remembered it because he’d gotten the extra credit points she’d been aching to get to be put in AP Chemistry. He just didn’t try. She saw a lot of potential in him, but she probably figured he’d get into any ivy league merely on his football and track records alone—he was really the best they had. All hail, the golden boy.

Regardless, she’d always noticed him, scoring the final touchdown in a game or answering correctly in her class. It was so hard not to. The gods had been on her side the day they’d partnered her up with him in biology.

“Liz, I hear congratulations are in order.”

She was still staring at him, startled of her thoughts at his silky voice. “Huh?”

He flashed her his pearly whites, auburn eyes twinkling. “Your birthday, right?”

“Oh! Right.”

“We should probably celebrate.”

“Yeah, Kyle and—huh?” she stared at him in confusion.

She’d always known how handsome and sought-out Max was, and she’d also known he was a ‘player’ along with the other three cadets of his, and still she couldn’t help… actual butterflies from dancing in her stomach.

“I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me. Tonight.”

Max-fucking-Evans. Wanted to go out on a date. With her. Goodness gracious, she must be dreaming.

He seemed taken aback. “If you wouldn’t like to…”

“Sure!” she blurted out, not being able to withhold her enthusiasm.

He grinned, his perfect teeth showing once more. “Great. I’ll pick you up at eight?”

“T-that’s great,” she stuttered, watching as he walked away from her.

She was going out on a date with Max Evans.

Maybe sixteen wouldn’t be so bad after all.

~*~

“Crap,” Kyle muttered as he missed another shot.

“Hey, son.”

Kyle didn’t turn around, he didn’t need to.

“Where’s the appendage also known as your new girlfriend?”

Jim Valenti ignored him. His son had always been rough on him, especially after he’d go and get himself a new woman. They’d never always been in good terms. Ever since Kyle’s mother walked out they had never really had much of a conversation. “I bet you didn’t know I was in the basketball team.”

Kyle snorted. “You? Go figure.”

“Cute, Kyle, Real cute. Anyway, I didn’t stay on very long, because my father said basketball wasn’t a real sport, and whatever the major said, we had to do,” Jim replied. Kyle passed him the ball, watching as his father aimed a difficult shot. It slinked into the hoop perfectly, barely touching the metal.

“Major?” Kyle echoed, only vaguely interested.

“Yeah, it’s what we called him. He was a stone-faced asswhole, that one, always telling me what to do. He never wanted me to marry your mother,” Jim explained, shaking his head. “He wanted me to be a cop so badly.”

“Uh… you are a cop.”

“That’s because I was a chicken. If it had been up to me I’d still have my band and we’d play every night that they’d take our ass in. I’ve lived all my life to please my father, believed in what he said. Everyone thought he was a crazy man, but I lived my life for him, Kyle. I had to satisfy him in what I did and what I said and how I lived my life… I completely stopped living,” Jim replied, the regret in his voice so apparent in almost made Kyle look away.

Kyle knew what he was trying to say—he was being so damn obvious. Jim and Kyle had been fighting for years—Jim wanted Kyle to join the military and be a soldier for his country.

“You don’t have to worry about me turning out like you,” Kyle bit, throwing the ball into the hoop and staring at Jim. “I mean, you’re trying to control my life, I guess. I mean you’re constantly telling me to join the marines and all when you know it’s not what I want. Guess you can’t escape from family and… why are you telling me this anyway?” Kyle asked, bored. He didn’t want to have a heart-to-heart with his father. Right now he was too angry. There were many times Kyle had wanted to talk Valenti but he was always too busy with his women or his job.

It was enough to raise a child. It was always blatant to Kyle why his parents had had him, because children were the base of a marriage. Granted, took Kyle to school, gave him a roof, and often talked of the hardships of life, but Jim pushed Kyle to be what Jim himself never could. He’d given Kyle very little to no affection—all because of his damn job, and lack of time. For every problem Kyle ever had, it would always be ‘Tomorrow son.’ Every single event in Kyle’s life that was significant Jim had never been there—Mr. Parker usually took his place.

“I’m telling you this because I see you, son.”

“And?”

“You’re not happy.”

“I’m fine.”

“Is that enough for you?”

Kyle was silent. Jim nodded and went to sit down on the stairs of the porch. “I thought so,” Jim answered. “I want you to be happy. I want you to be able to do whatever you want, and not think you have to be forced into anything you don’t want to do.”

“Isn’t that funny,” Kyle muttered wryly.

“Why are you doing this?” Kyle demanded, his eyes reeling with anger. “Why are you attempting to take us down into memory lane? You haven’t wanted to really get to know me since mom walked out. You never once cared in all of my sixteen years and, I don’t expect you to care now.”

“Please… tell me.”

Kyle sighed and began to think. “I guess I was… ten. I had a soccer game and I was finally playing after years of being on the bench. You stayed with me practicing every night until I got better,” Kyle remembered wistfully as Jim smiled—he remembered it too.

“I scored the winning goal and you carried me in your shoulders and ran all over the field, screaming like a lunatic,” Kyle said, shaking his head as he laughed. “I’d made you so proud.”

“I’ve always been proud of you,” Jim whispered.

“Then why do you want me to be someone I’m not?” Kyle begged. Valenti believed himself to be a good father because everyone in Roswell believed it. It wasn’t enough to buy Kyle a car for his sixteenth birthday, and he didn’t need expensive things. All he’d ever needed was his father’s attention and time. Or least least, he’d needed it before.

In case Jim Valenti hadn’t noticed, or blinked and missed it—Kyle Valenti had grown up.

“Do you want to go out for pizza?” Jim suggested.

Kyle sighed, wiping the sweat off his forehead. “Can’t. Liz’s birthday.”

“Ah, the Parker girl.” Jim smiled fondly.

“Yeah.”

“When are you going to tell her?”

Kyle, for the first time all night, missed a shot. “Tell her what?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe that you’ve been in love with her since you’re in diapers?”

Kyle finally sighed; clapping his father on the back and nodding, Jim put an arm around Kyle’s shoulder.

“Hey, Dad?”

“Yeah, son?”

“Mom didn’t just leave you,” Kyle answered slowly, turning to him with unshed tears in his eyes. “She left me, too. You’re not doing anything wrong by dating. I want… I want you to be happy.”

Jim grinned, showing Kyle his teeth as he gave him a genuine smile for once. “I think I’m finally getting there.”

Kyle smiled sadly, his hands delving into his pockets, his fingers tracing the gold locket that was there. “I hope I get there, too.”

The gorgeous banner is made by the talented Calinia[/i]

Thanks to my great, great beta, burningchaos!


Chapter#2

Michael Guerin sighed, flipping the channels one by one as he stared at the screen with boredom. There was nothing on at this hour, and he wasn't really too keen on doing the homework that he knew was waiting for him. Instead, he turned over to stare at his best friend amusingly.

It was quite the comedic show, seeing Max prepare before every date he had. If there was someone in this world who primped, that person was Max-fucking-Evans.He just had to be perfect. His hair had to be perfectly spiked. The color of his shirt had to match with his pants, and he had to look devastatingly handsome—although Max would say he didn’t need much to look handsome. While the thought was egotistical, there wasn’t a girl that didn’t agree with that statement.

Michael wasn’t even really sure how he and Max had ended up as best friends. Michael was a guzzling beer, poker playing kind of guy. Max was about fine champagne and a luxurious living. He was sure that wherever Max-fucking-Evans ended up, success would surely come of it.
Michael didn’t possess his friend’s ‘brooding charm’ that the ladies fawned over. Michael was the quite idealistic, a dark gothic artist while Max was the popular football jock. It really was a miracle they were friends.
Another miracle was Max asking out Liz Parker. What was that all about?

While Michael couldn’t deny the girl was cute, she wasn’t really in Max’s spectrum. For an okay chess guy? A bench player? Sure. But Max Evans? She was, like… smart. Max had never really gone out with smart girls before.

Michael lost his train of thought as he noticed Max’s head snap up toward the door where they both saw a short, blonde, angry mess of curls standing there, moving her mouth. She clearly was screaming, but neither Michael nor Max heard because of the blasting stereo. Tess Harding growled with frustration as she went towards the stereo and turned it off.

“I should be mad at you, you know,” Tess informed Max.
Max ignored her, continuing to look through his piles of clothes. Max shared a room with his organized and tidy sister Isabel. But Max was always a mess. He always claimed it was an organized mess, because he knew exactly where each and every possession of his was, despite the fact that it looked like a Tornado had hit it.

“I mean, we decide to be on a break just yesterday and already you’re hooking up with someone else? And Liz Parker? Isn’t she, like, smart?” Tess asked, echoing Michael’s thoughts. “I mean, did you want to stick it to me? Dating someone pure and innocent and smart and everything I’m not, right?” she pressed on indignantly, following Max around as he continued searching for a shirt. Max continued to ignore her easily, and scratched his eyebrow with confusion. Where the hell was his olive green shirt?! It really brought out the perfect hazel in his eyes, Max always thought.

“I can’t believe I’m standing here telling you about my hurt feelings—and you just ignore me!” Tess shrieked. “God, Max! Pay attention!”
Max finally gave up the silent treatment, seeing as how he knew his on-and-off girlfriend was persistent when she wanted to be, and finally looked at her thoroughly, a mixture of annoyance and exhaustion. “Don’t start,” was all he said, changing back to a navy blue shirt.

Tess paused momentarily to look at the view of Max’s rippled muscles, before pouting at him. “Why shouldn’t I?! You’re going on a date Max, with someone that isn’t me!”

Michael shook his head, crossing his arms as he stood up. “So, this was lovely. It was lovely seeing you Tess, only… not. Anyway, I’m going to go act like I have something better to do when in reality I’m raiding your fridge and taking all the food that’s there.”

Max glared at him. He rubbed his eyes as he sat on the edge of his bed.
Tess sighed loudly before joining him, making sure to inch the cheerleading shirt up for all it was worth. “Maxie…” she pouted slightly. “I miss you, baby.”

She didn’t leave him time to answer; instead she jumped on him, attacking his lips never giving him a chance to speak. Before he knew it, hands were roaming, clothes were being discarded, and Max had forgotten why they were arguing.

Panting, Tess parted her lips from his and gave him a flirtatious smile. “You’re not still going on your date, are you?”

He grinned, laying her back on the bed. “What date?”

~*~

It was stupid, really, his story.

He’d always been best friends with her, for as long as he can remember. Every significant moment he’s ever had in his life, Liz Parker has always been there to share it with him. He can’t remember a time when they didn’t sit next to each other, on the bus, in their classrooms, at lunch, after school… they’d just always been in each other’s lives. He saved her from bullies, she helped him with his classes, and it was a mutual friendship that had always made him smile.

Kyle figured the feelings must have always been there. He’d discarded them as lingering best friend thing, or being jealous because he was the over protective brother and it was just his job. She was after all, his best friend. It was his duty to protect her from the feline males that wanted to paw her, right?

Right.

So he’d used that for a few months, lived in his little world of denial, which was looking better every day, despite Buddha telling him to look deep inside himself for answers only Kyle could give.

Suddenly she’d grown from the cute scrawny kid that played baseball with him to the beautiful girl that was keen on wearing small sundresses. So he’d find himself staring at her more and more, peeking when she wasn’t looking, being thankful for her company and just… basking in her. And then he’d seen Liz with Sean De Luca. His skin had boiled, and Kyle could have sworn he’d seen red dots on the ceiling, on Sean’s face, everywhere. Then he could no longer deny himself the truth.

The constellation of glory that had sky-rocketed in his heart when she’d broken it off with the cheating scoundrel was also inevitable. He’d just have to live with this huge secret—he was crushing on Liz Parker, and had a small fear that he always would. Usually he’d feel better telling someone his secrets. It’s just that that person had always been Liz. Now that she actually was the secret, Kyle didn’t know who to talk to. Alex? Certainly not his father.

Kyle sighed with annoyance as he looked, not for the first time, at his watch, wondering where the hell Liz was. He was starting to get worried too, the thunder would not calm down and Liz had always been scared of storms.

He frowned as he heard a small hiccupping noise. Slowly, Kyle made his way outside the window, eyes widening slightly when he saw Liz climbing her own balcony, rain-drenched.

“Liz! Where were you?”

She turned to him. Her clothes were damp as she walked inside the balcony, slow, lazy steps, not even putting one foot up in front of the other, but sliding through it, too tired to make any other movement. She closed her eyes, shivering from the wet clothes, running a hand through her rain-drenched hair as she guiltily moved from side to side—she’d forgotten movie night with Kyle in her stupid illusion of going on a date with Max.

“Nowhere. Just…nowhere.”

“Liz?” he repeated his voice curious and concerned. He walked until he was right in front of her, not caring he was getting slightly wet himself. He saw the tears and the puffy nose. His entire face fell, softened, and then turned to her with wondering eyes. “What happened?”

She just shook her head, the heels of her feet burning in the floor as she her hands grabbed her sandals tighter. The mascara was running from her face, and he knew, just by looking, she was embarrassed and guilty and heartbroken—he’d been friends for her for too long not to know what was going on.

Something inside of Liz snapped as a small sob escaped her lips, which only seemed to further Kyle’s concern. “Liz?”

The tender wonder in his voice, and the gentle touch of her best friend’s hand was enough for Liz to break. She let her hands fall to her face as new tears found their way to burn her cheeks. She hugged him too her as her sandals fell from her slippery hands. “I-it w-was s-s-so embarrassing, Kyle!” she moaned burying her hands in her face again, as they made their way back into her room.

It was actually a little scary, how nervous she had been. She’d never really dwelt on a lot of emotions, because she’d always been so focused on making sure no one would see Liz’s void. She always went on with her life, going through the motions, acting like her bubbly, perky self that was always happy twenty-four/seven.

She was just a sixteen year old girl who would love to have some fun. She had over-bearing parents, but she was really the perfect daughter. Liz didn’t smoke, didn’t drink, didn’t have sex, and was such a good student she’d probably be her class valedictorian. She looked quiet, shy, prim and proper. All she felt was she was missing everything that was being sent her way. What she wanted was for once to feel liked and pretty, different, to sparkle with Max Evans.

She had always sat in the sidelines. She was tired of being on the outside of looking in.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Kyle, please,” she begged softly.
He nodded, sighing as he sat down in the bed next to her, taking out a slender velvet box and giving it to her hesitantly. “Happy birthday, Liz.”
She beamed at him, amazed at how he could so quickly make her feel better after swearing she could never feel worse. She kissed his cheek and opened it eagerly. Gasping, Liz took out the golden locket out of the box, staring at it with wonder. “Kyle, it’s… it’s beautiful.”

“It was my grandmother’s,” he replied. “She’d always used to tell me stories of the magic that the locket held. If you hold it tightly, and you make a wish, they say it’s bound to come true. Anyway, um, it’s a really pretty locket and it reminded me of you so…”

Liz grinned at him through tear-filled eyes. “Thank you, Kyle,” she whispered hoarsely, opening the locket and laughing as she saw a picture of the two of them as kids.

Kids, when she was still a little girl filled with dreams and inundated with innocence. When her parents had been too busy for her, when she’d always had a problem, Kyle was the one person who’d always been there.

She hugged him and felt a lump in her throat as she stifled a sob.
Kyle grabbed her from the shoulders gently. “Liz, what happened?!”
“I – had – a – date – Max – didn’t – show,” she said through hiccups. “It was so embarrassing! I waited for an hour, sitting in that stupid restaurant while everyone – and – i-it,” she continued crying, hiding her face from him.

“Liz, are you stupid?”

She stopped crying, obviously not expecting the anger in Kyle’s voice. “WHAT?!”

“Liz, he’s Max. The school playboy. He—” Kyle trailed his voice, standing up as he began to pace back and forth, Liz staring at him dumbfounded.

“Kyle…”

“I guess it’s true, then,” he said ruefully.

“What?” she whispered.

“The good girl always goes for the bad boy.”

“Kyle, I’ve liked him since, like, forever!”

“And the guy dumped you, Liz!”

Her eyes widened slightly at the hint of rancor in Kyle’s voice. “What’s wrong with you?” she whispered, holding to the locket fiercely.

“What’s wrong is that you never seem to learn. Max Evans has never given you a second look, Liz! Who knows why he asked you out, what he wanted to do with you. And all he did was hurt you! Why do you keep on liking a guy that would hurt you so much? Why can’t you just look at what’s right in front of you!”

“What’s right in front of me? Right now a friend who isn’t being very friendly! God, Kyle, my heart is broken right now! Stop yelling!” Liz shouted her voice equally as loud as his.

“You’re never going to get it, are you? You never… ever see. Why can’t you see me?” he begged softly.

She blinked, taken aback by the softness, the hurt in his voice. Did this mean…

“Kyle?”

He shook his head as he made his way outside the balcony, not listening as Liz called out his name. She banged her fist in the table out of fury. Kyle was mad at her, Max had dumped her, and her parents had barely remembered it was her birthday…

She crawled into the bathroom, slinking back through the tiles as she remained in fetal position, holding tightly on to Kyle’s locket, crying for the life that she didn’t want for herself. Crying for not being able to be different. She didn’t want this. She wasn’t a small town girl who was bound to have her heart broken, over and over.

She closed her eyes tightly, wishing with every thought, every tear, every emotion that she could be someone else, somewhere else, without this perennial anger and hurt and confusion that she lived with.
Wishing for once she wasn’t small-town Liz Parker.

~*~

The first thought that came to her mind was she hated sunlight.
Currently it was blinding her, adding to the massive headache that was already forming in the back of her head, all the way to her temples. Liz groaned, grabbing at her head as she sat up straight, wondering why she was sitting on the floor of a marble-tiled bathroom, and not the wooden floor she’d curled herself up in.

“Oy,” she breathed, standing up as she felt the rush get to her head.
She frowned as she looked around her bathroom. It was huge. She didn’t even have a bathtub in her bathroom, although this was almost a Jacuzzi it was so big. The bathroom didn’t have walls, it had mirrors, and Liz had to snort at the vanity of whoever lived here.

She opened the door, peeking slightly, gasping as she saw a naked man in a towel running around the house. Liz closed back the door to the room, scared more then ever. What was happening? Why wasn’t she at home? Just how much drugs had she taken?

“Hey, sweet bottoms!” the deep, velvety voice exclaimed. “Are you working today?”

Liz didn’t answer, although she had an uneasy feeling he was talking to her. She moved towards the living room, satisfied the Naked Man was now safely inside the other bathroom. Her jaw dropped at the beautiful room that was in sight of her. It was luxurious, with antique couches, expensive-looking vases, still many, many mirrors and a hip-looking kitchen. It seemed like a bachelorette’s dream house.
The phone rang, which made Liz jump.

“Hi, you’ve reached Elizabeth Parker. If you’re inconsequential to me, please think twice before you leave a message. If it is crucial, make it quick and don’t waste my time.”

Liz frowned. Her voice was deeper, a little bit more edgier, and her tone was cut and acid-like. Where had her sweet, kind voice gone to? And since when did she go by Elizabeth? And what the hell was happening here?

Liz turned around, finally fixating her eyes to the mirrors, shrieking softly and falling to the nearest sofa. She was her… but not. Her nose was slightly smaller, she was wearing the skimpiest negligee ever known to man kind and she looked… older. She actually looked sexy. She had a lean stomach, long, well-toned legs, a perfect golden tan and long, wavy curls that looked nothing like old Liz’s boring straight hair. Liz Parker was not a sexy being. And she actually had… boobs!

Liz touched her face, trying to make sure this wasn’t just a bad dream. Sure enough, this was her. The last thing that Liz remembers was falling to the floor with a thud.

This… is… not… good.

~*~

Chapter #3

She faintly hears a voice that is calling out her name, only not really because it’s ‘Beth.’ She has never, ever liked anyone calling her that, much less this man, who was still in his towel, grabbing at her cheeks and shaking her about. He had green eyes, vivid and gorgeous but… he was old.

“Beth, are you okay?” he asked again.

“Um…”

“How old are you?”

Liz grimaced. “Sixteen?”

The guy snorted. “Babe, you’re twenty-five. Next time you want to lower your age go for twenty-one.”

Twenty-five?! She was twenty-five? Oh god… she’d… she’d wished for this just last night, but it couldn’t be! This wasn’t possible, it defied all the scientific laws that she had studied so religiously, this went against all she knew and there was no way she could just travel… to the future. It just wasn’t possible. It was unnatural. She was somehow in this vortex of a bad dream and couldn’t get out. It had to be that. She couldn’t just… how could she wake up and be in the year 2004? She was from 1995. It just… it didn’t add up. This didn’t make sense.

“Beth, baby?” the guy sighed, helping her stand up. “Zan, remember?”

“Yeah… I have a huge headache,” Liz half-lied, smiling feebly at him.

“Quite a night you had, luv,” he murmured, leaning towards her and proceeding to stick his tongue down her throat. Liz’s eyes widened as she tried pulling his damp body away. Of course, it wasn’t really bad. He was good looking, but she had no idea who this man was, and he was only in a towel for goodness sake!

“No! Uh, Zan, you’re naked!”

He grinned at her seductively. “Not yet, anyway,” he answered, ridding himself of the towel, as Liz’s mouth dropped open. It was one of those situations where she wanted to look away, was begging to look away, but could not, for the life of her, avert her eyes from such an image. Were they all this big? Seriously…

“Zan!” she squeaked.

He laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, babe. Can’t give ya a quickie today. Gotta start shooting the movie,” he whispered, wrapping the towel back around his waist. She uttered a squeal of surprise as he slapped her on the butt before proceeding to go back to his room, humming a song Liz had never heard in her life, something about milkshakes and boys in yards. She was seriously freaking out here. This had to be a nightmare. It could not—this was not happening!

“Oh, Beth, baby!” she heard, a sexy, clear invitation to join him in the shower.

Freezing, she grabbed her long coat, aware she was wearing a nightgown, and ran out of there. She had entered the twilight zone. That had to be it. Surely Kyle’s gift was not actually a magic locket that granted wishes. That was… absurd, an inane impossibility that would literally disobey every physical law she had ever studied studiously at school. She was going to be a molecular biologist, so what, pray tell was she doing in what seemed a celebrity pad, living with an old guy? Certainly not too old for twenty-five year old Beth, but definitely too old for sixteen-year old Liz! Oh, she was seriously hallucinating…

She stepped out of the lavish hotel, regretting not putting on something warmer as she wrapped the coat more tightly around her waist. She realized she was in New York. She was actually living in the Big Apple, just like she and Kyle had always dreamed!

Kyle! He had to know what was going on.

“Yoo-hoo!!! Lizzie poo? Hello? Right over here?”

Liz turned around and her gaze focused on an annoyed blonde, who was furiously grabbing at the curls that were not obeying the pony tail she’d put them in. She was quite pretty, and Liz found her looking very familiar. “Are you talking to me?”

The blonde rolled her eyes. “Of course not, I just love talking to myself. Will you get in? Whittaker is furious! You’re late!”

“Late for what?” Liz asked, puzzled.

“What is wrong with you?” the blonde demanded, sitting next to her in the expensive car, motioning to the driver the directions. She focused her attention back to Liz, as she felt the wind knocked out of her—she would recognize those unearthly, pale blue eyes anywhere…

“Tess?!”

“Yes. My name is Tess,” the blonde drawled with sarcasm, rolling her eyes again—it seemed this was what she liked doing. “Me. Tess. You. Liz. Now that we have that out of the way, just how much did you drink last night, Liz?”

Liz didn’t hear her, she grabbed at her temples. “Oh, dear lord I just want this all to go away. I should have never asked for anything in the first place. I should probably just go away somewhere… like… Wisconsin!”

Tess’s eyes narrowed. “Have you taken your medication today?”

“You’re right. Wisconsin is not far enough. How ‘bout Tokyo?”

“Liiiiiiiiizie…”

“I could wear one of those kimonos!”

“Okay, stop it. What is wrong with you?”

Liz sighed, tears threatening to fall down her face as she tried keeping a grasp of reality—although she wasn’t sure if this was real. Clearly she was in some sort of other dimension, a different reality from hers, one alternate from the one she was yesterday, which sucked because nine years of her life have completely been erased. She had no idea what happened from the moment she turned sixteen untill today. Everything was a huge gap and she was seriously losing it.

Liz turned to the pretty blonde in disbelief. “Are we… are we… friends?”

Tess sighed. “Fine. I’ll indulge you in this stupid little game. Of course we’re friends Lizzie. The best of. Ever since high school….” Her voice trailed as she finally took in Liz’s appearance. “And am I supposed to be your fashion guru today or something?”

“What? Why?”

Tess sighed. “That kind of look is so out Liz. So out… it might actually be back in. Hmm… in any case, snaps for Lizzie!”

“What—” Liz sputtered in disbelief, seeing Tess snap her fingers. She stopped questioning it however. The smile on Tess’s face told Liz snaps for her where not exactly a bad thing—whatever the hell it meant.

Hell. She had just entered hell.

Liz knew Tess thought she was a complete wacko by now. After all, she was parading around in the streets in a knee-length black negligee, covered only by a white leather coat that Liz would never have been able to afford before. Tess was looking impeccable, with her black blazer and pants, her curly hair in an efficient bun, high heels that added somewhat height, and the blue eyes that glared at anyone who dared try to talk to her.

“Listen, Liz. Whittaker is going to be a little harder on us then usual today. Now, repeat after me. I’m Elizabeth Parker.”

Liz nodded. That much she knew. “I’m Elizabeth Parker.”

“I’m a total, ruthless, manipulative bitch!”

Liz stared at Tess. She looked to be proud of that. “What?”

“I am the editor of Risqué magazine.”

“I am—” Liz’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Another eye roll. One more and Tess’s eyeballs would permanently be attached to the back side of her head. How could Liz be best friends with someone so annoying? More importantly, how had Liz ever gotten to hang out with Tess in high school when they hated each other? This had to be a superficial friendship. Why would Liz have anything superficial in the first place?

“Yes, the Editor of Risqué, and about to enter a meeting. You need to at least look normal. And comb your hair if you don’t want anyone noticing the huge hangover you got yourself into last night,” Tess ordered, primping Liz by the waist before they walked inside of the building.

“Good morning, Miss Harding. Morning, Miss Parker!” a plump, red-headed secretary said with a huge smile.

Tess ignored her, grabbing at her brief case and passing immediately. Liz gave her a polite smile and a slight wave. Grabbing Tess by the arm she asked, “What’s her name?”

Tess scoffed. “Who cares? Now, go to your office and we’ll meet in ten.”

Liz swiveled around, looking for any office that said Parker.

“Uh, good morning Miss Parker.”

“Morning,” Liz said brightly. She observed the blonde that was sitting in the desk across from Liz’s office. She assumed she was her own secretary, but because she had no idea of her name, she wouldn’t even try asking—Liz didn’t need any more people thinking she was absolutely crazy.

“I wasn’t able to get the flowers that you wanted imported from Bali,” the blonde apologized, and Liz didn’t think she was being crazy when she noticed the blonde was hunching in fear.

“Um…”

“Please, please don’t yell,” the blonde begged her.

Liz frowned. “Why would I yell?”

It was the blonde’s turn to look confused. “Because you’re always yelling.”

She yelled? Liz had never yelled or hurt a fly in her entire life… unless you counted the huge fight she’d just had with Kyle… nine years ago, it seemed.

“No, right now I need you to do me this huge favor. I am going to give you the phone number of Jim Valenti. All right? I want you to figure out the address of Kyle Valenti. Can you do that for me?” Liz asked, scribbling furiously Kyle’s old phone number. She really hoped Mr. Valenti still lived in Roswell. She hoped that the phone wasn’t changed, or disconnected. She needed to see her best friend and figure out what the hell was going on.

“Sure, Miss Parker,” the blonde said briskly, grabbing the piece of paper and going to work immediately, slightly perturbed—she looked like an abused woman, for god’s sake. Liz couldn’t be that bad in the future, could she?

~*~

Whittaker was not at all what Liz imagined her to be. While she was tall, and slender, she had big, scary eyes that seemed to be startled all the time, and a masculine jaw that did not compliment her thin, pointy nose. She did seem however, like a woman that was always in charge. She was pacing around the room—she was clearly troubled—and was staring at each of them in the eye, as if she’d find something there that she’d been looking for. Miss Whittaker seemed mistrusting.

And all of what Liz assumed were her peers were staring at her as if she’d grown a second head.

“The third time this year. And we’ve just begun it! I cannot believe already Charisma has topped us—again!” she was muttering. The next series of sentences that formed made Liz blush to her very core—never had she heard a woman speak so profanely. Especially someone that had as much poise and elegance as Whittaker.

“I have already tried infiltrating the offices from the inside,” Whittaker continued, grabbing at her pencil, twisting it nervously until she broke it in two. “I am not blind to the matters, ladies and gentlemen—and Damien,” she added, turning to the weird-looking man in his mid-forties that was eating twizzlers. “I’m fairly certain that the mole, the insider, the spy that is passing off all our new and innovative ideas to Charisma is right here in this room. There is not much I can do, however, for I have no idea who it is. Just know that I am keeping a closer eye on all of you. A Very Close Eye.”

Her words were menacing, and she looked like a woman you should never cross. Liz was immediately scared of her. From the way the meeting went—smoothly because Liz barely uttered a word or two—she was apparently the editor of Risqué, a chic, fashion icon magazine that had hit the states with rampant fury. Over a year ago, another magazine, Charisma, had started competing against them for the spot as the fifth-best selling fashion magazine in the US. There was someone on the inside, working as a mole, giving Charisma all of Risqué’s ideas before the monthly issue debuts—Charisma always topping them in every article.

“Parker!”

Liz was startled out of her thoughts, a deer-caught-in-the-headlights look, as her head snapped towards Whittaker.

“Yes?”

“I want you and Tess—my fabulous, dynamic duo, to start working on smashing ideas for our next issue. We need to start increasing our sells. I’m afraid it’s our last hope,” Whittaker added, determinedly while glum.

The meeting was over, and Liz decided to skip over to her office in a hurry, before anyone could continue questioning her on her weird behavior. She was still in awe of her huge office, with the gorgeous view to all of New York. She had thousands of pictures of herself with celebrities—some that Liz recognized, others she’d never seen—who the hell were Colin Farrell and Ashton Kutcher, anyway?—and many were signed autographs. One was a personal photo of Madonna, thanking Liz for the margaritas they’d had a month ago. Liz was ecstatic. She was friends with Madonna. Clearly she had gotten everything she’d wanted in her life. On the office wall was also a degree in business and communication.

There was a hesitant knock on her door, and Liz sat at the edge of the office, arms crossed. “Yes?”

“Miss Parker?” the fearing, quibbling voice inquired.

Liz recognized this to be of her assistant, the bubbly-but-terrified blonde.

“Yes?” Liz repeated, opening the door.

“I talked to the man whose number you gave me. It turns out a Kyle Valenti lives here, in New York,” the assistant replied, handing Liz the yellow post-it.

Liz’s eyes sparkled. Kyle lived in New York—that meant they had finally lived their dream, of living in New York together and making it big time! She snatched the paper out of the blonde’s hands and stared at it happily. “Oh, thank you!”

She didn’t wait for an answer; she flew out of there without a warning. Now, she wasn’t used to the big city—and so she had no idea how to stop a cab. Each and everyone she tried to grab would just pass her right by. One of them finally took pity on her and asked her if she needed a lift. Handing them the scribbled post it, she eagerly jumped on the cab.

Finally her day was starting to brighten. She’d see Kyle, tell him the unbelievable story, and find a way to get her back to her time frame. She wondered what Kyle looked like. Of course he’d been really cute as an awkward, funny sixteen-year old. But Kyle should now, by all accounts be twenty-six, and Liz was surprised to feel small butterflies poking at her stomach. She knew it was silly—she was living with someone, which meant Kyle probably was as well.

She felt awful about their fight yesterday, and she couldn’t help Kyle’s words ringing back to her ears. He was talking about not seeing what was right in front of her. He really made it sound like he had… but that was impossible. Because Kyle was her best buddy. It wasn’t like that with him… was it? He’d never really acted like he had feelings for her, much less like he wanted to pursue a romantic relationship with her. Then again, Liz was known for her oblivious, clueless nature, which was precisely what had angered Kyle in the first place.

Liz felt more nervous by the second as she walked towards Kyle’s place. The loft, from the outside, looked very nice, very artsy. She didn’t know what twenty-six year old Kyle was like, but this definitely seemed like something her best friend would get when they finally moved to the big city. She just hoped he believed her story, as outrageous as it sounded.

She knocked, and knocked, and continued knocking.

She was finally about to give up when someone finally answered. Liz turned around, her mouth dropping open. It was definitely Kyle—his eyes were still the same, many of his features, while thickened and more masculine somehow, were still irreversibly and adorably Kyle. Maybe his jaw was slightly wider, his hair a different, though short, and styled. He seemed… taller, infinitely well-built. He was wearing a white wifebeater and faded paint splattered jeans (which he was filling out very nicely, Liz couldn’t help noticing), vague signs of a five o’clock shadow over his face. His hands, Liz noticed, were stained with different dry colors—he held a paint brush in one of them. Adult Kyle looked like nothing Liz imagined him to be, while everything she had, all in one.

She stood there immobile, speechless, staring into the eyes of her best friend, who had turned really gorgeous over the years—not that sixteen-year old Kyle hadn’t been handsome to begin with—he’d been adorably cute and sexy, in his own goofy, Kyle kind of way. She’d just… never really noticed, had never been bowled over by his cuteness. She’d always been aware he was easy on the eyes, but it was nowhere near this… easy.

He seemed to be having her same speech problem—he wasn’t saying anything either.

Liz, relieved to finally see a friendly, familiar face in this huge city where she had no idea what she was doing or what she had done, flung herself into his arms and hugged him tightly to her, many moments of her and Kyle together flashing through her mind. Not one single memory was unwelcome—not even the fights, or the bittersweet moments. She tightened her hold on his neck with her arms. She liked the feel of him. He smelled of peppermints and mocha. Not a very Kyle smell, but nine years could change a man. Man. Kyle Valenti was a man, not a teenage boy.

“Kyle?” she asked hesitantly when she felt he wasn’t hugging her back. She stepped back to look at him, noticing his confused and surprised expression. As if he was staring hard at her trying to place her. How could Kyle not know who she was? She was Liz, and he was Kyle. They had always been Liz and Kyle together.

“Don’t you… don’t you know who I am?” Liz asked, disappointed.

“Of course… Liz,” he said, needing to feel the name on his lips to vindicate himself and prove that she was real, that she was actually there.

“Then, why…?” her voice trailed. She didn’t understand.

He laughed, and put his hands on his lips, and uttered the words that numbed and broke Liz Parker’s heart. “Liz… I haven’t seen you since we graduated from high school.”

Previously...

"We haven't seen each other since we graduated from high school."


Chapter #4

She stared at him flabbergasted, she felt the ground move from underneath her feet, her heart was beating relentlessly against her chest, and she felt her legs slightly give themselves as they swayed beneath her. “W-what?”

Kyle stared at her with concern. “Liz. You okay?”

“Um…”

He sighed, scratching the back of his ear—a gesture that she knew of his, because he used to do this so often. A gesture she’d grown to know like the back of her hand because they were best friends. How on earth could she have stopped talking to him seven years ago? That just couldn’t be possible. There was no way Liz could ever survive without Kyle for that long. It was just unthinkable, an unnatural thought process she never wanted to bear. But it was true.

In this reality, she and Kyle were no longer friends. No longer acquaintances. The fact they lived in the exact same city didn’t seem to be a factor, because that still hadn’t wedged them any closer.

“Do you want to come in?” he asked finally, shifting one foot to the other awkwardly.

She knew he was asking this out of politeness, and it killed her. Kyle was doing something because it seemed like the respectful thing to do, not because he wanted her to come inside. He hadn’t seen her in seven years, and he wasn’t the slightest bit content, or at least curious, to have finally see her again? Wasn’t he taking her in as much as she was him?

This was crushing her entire being, burdening her very soul. Literally. Just a week ago she and Kyle had been mapping out plans to go to backpack through Europe after they graduated, study in the same college, become inseparable to the point of hip joining. They had so many plans, they had adored each other. That didn’t just stop from one day to the next.

So what if he was being polite? She had to find out what happened.

Smiling at him, graciously entered the loft, and was surprised by what she found there. It was colorful, but tasteful. There were many black and white pictures sprawled through out the entire place, a beautiful painting of the Notre Dame hung up above the living room couch. “Wow, you… you drew and took these pictures?” she asked, motioning to them.

He scratched the back of his head again. Adorable. “Uh, yeah.”

“I always knew you were talented,” she smiled, feeling the urge to cry when he wasn’t smiling back.

“Thanks,” he answered respectfully, moving about in the kitchen and getting her coffee. Did she even like coffee? She’d certainly never drunk any in her previous years, which, to her was just a day ago, but to this Liz had been nine years… this was so confusing. Her brain was hurting.

“So… how have you been?” she asked, and later cringed at how she had failed horribly in her attempt at nonchalance. It sounded small, and scared.

“Great. You know, a friend of mine had a gala. A few people bought some of my paintings,” he answered, sitting down in the stool across from her.

“That’s great!” she answered enthusiastically.

“So… why are you here?”

She opened her mouth. ‘Because the locket you gave me has put me in this horrible nightmare where I traveled nine years into the future, my whole life is a mess and I’m turning out to be a big bitch.’

Instead, she opted for the small, “Um, nothing. I just, saw your name a few days ago, thought I’d check up on you.”

He looked shocked, as if the mere idea of her checking up on him was ludicrous. “Why?”

“We were best friends, Kyle.”

“A long, long time ago, Liz.”

She tried not to show tears, and tried really hard to keep her voice to a minimum, normal timbre. She couldn’t blame him. If they really hadn’t talked since high school, wouldn’t Kyle be surprised she came knocking at his door seven years later? He turned around to fill his cup with milk, and Liz quickly wiped at the tears that were pricking at her eyes. She was still in shock, couldn’t believe that she had success and power and money… but Kyle wasn’t in her life.

“Um… do you have our yearbook, by any chance?” she asked softly.

He turned to her quizzically. “I… I think so.”

He lost himself among the stairs, and Liz stood up and looked around the house. Her heart beat faster as she saw a pair of woman’s shoes lying in the middle of the floor. She didn’t know why the revelation that Kyle was living with someone hurt her so much. After all, wasn’t she with… Zane, was that his name? They hadn’t seen each other in forever. He had a whole life that had nothing to do with her. She swallowed back the huge lump she had in her throat, knowing that Kyle wouldn’t believe a word she’d said if she decided to tell him her wild story.

Her fingers ran over the pictures that were lying in the counter that Liz assumed was part of Kyle’s studio. There were pictures of a park, near a fountain, the fall leaves enveloping two running girls in beautiful dresses, old-fashioned hats—each of the girls was holding a big sunflower in one hand, the other holding on to each other. She wiped at another tear when she heard the nearing footsteps.

“Here ya go,” he finally answered, his voice a little gruffer then he’d probably intended.

She was almost scared to open it. This was what had happened to her, the answers to the two years of the nine she was missing. She flipped through the pages idly, stopping abruptly at the Winter Dance. It was a picture of her and Max, wrapped in each other’s arms. Not only was she wearing a skimpy, barely-there dress, below the picture of the two of them was a scribble: Couple of the Year.

“I dated Max?!” Liz blurted out before she could stop herself.

Kyle was once again giving her the look. The ‘Have you been smoking pot’ look.

“Uh… yeah. For sophomore year.”

“I… I can’t believe I wore this! My parents… my dad would never let me go out in this dress. He wouldn’t even be able to afford,” she emphasized. You could see her entire cleavage, which hadn’t been much then, the dress hung to her lower back, with long, high slits at each side of her legs. She looked like a brunette Marilyn Monroe—and the thought did not appeal to her. She would never wear something like that!

Kyle chuckle softly, sipping his coffee before remarking, “No offense, Liz, but by that time, you didn’t care what your parents said.”

“What do you mean?” she asked softly, flipping page after page. She was in many of them. She was in a cheerleading outfit, hugging Tess with one arm, Isabel with the other. Liz was voted best smile, most popular, and most likely to succeed.

“I mean, there came a point where you just didn’t listen to anyone. You did what you wanted. That dress was unaffordable, but you made Mr. Parker shit the money out so you could wear it,” Kyle explained, and Liz wasn’t ignorant to the slight admonition in his tone.

“Oh,” Liz said meekly. Picture after picture, so many had Liz. She was there with Tess, Isabel, with Max, Rath and Michael. Each picture seemed to be a pose from the page of a magazine; much like the one Liz was now editor of. She was wearing hip clothes, and was always outshining everyone around her in the pictures. She looked like someone who demanded attention and had it often. That was nothing like mousy, sweet Liz Parker she had still been but a day ago.

She closed the book abruptly—she’d seen enough. She stared at the book, tears blurring, threatening to fall as she began breathing in a labored, raspy manner. Her short breaths quickened their pace until she felt she wasn’t going to be able to breathe at all. “Liz? Are you okay? Liz!” Kyle shook her, slightly rattled at what appeared to be a hyperventilating Liz.

“Breathe, breathe in, breathe out,” he murmured, rubbing her back comfortingly, grabbing a paper bag and thrusting it towards her, making her bend a little to catch her breath.

He must think she was certifiable. She continued breathing in and out of the bag frantically. This was really happening. She was nowhere near waking up from what she thought a nightmare because she already was awake.

And Kyle. Kyle, the person who had always been able to read her like the palm of his hand. Knew every inch of her heart and loved it anyway, knew all of her secrets, all of her dreams, all of her longings, all of her. The summers they had spent running around the rivers and the deserts, the afternoons they’d spent playing with each other and talking of nothing and everything at once. The only boy she trusted her entire life with, the most loyal, kindest, sweetest, most noble boy she’d ever met. And now he was a stranger. She could still see some of him in his blue eyes, but this Kyle wasn’t her Kyle. They had promised they’d grow old together, and his kids would be best friends with her kids, and the road would always lead to the two of them, together—always. What had happened?

“You okay?” he asked softly after a few minutes.

She grabbed her purse and was about to dart out of there when she turned around to face him. His fingers were skimming the picture of her and Max, in Prom Queen and Prom King Getup. “Kyle?”

His head turned towards hers. “Yeah?”

“Um, my magazine is holding this party this Friday. You… you should come.”

He laughed, ruffling his hair with his hand. “That’s not really my thing, Liz.”

“Evanescence will be there,” she offered. She of course, had no idea who that was. But Tess had announced it like it was the start of the apocalypse, so Liz was sure it was something huge.

She was right. Kyle seemed impressed. “Wow.”

“Uh, just think about it,” she finally said, waving to him as she walked out.

The minute she was out the door her smile dropped. She was doing what Liz Parker had always done, going through the motions the way she thought she had to, and not doing what she felt like doing. Deep inside, Liz felt like screaming, tearing her hair apart, cursing and yelling and yes, even breaking things until she felt satisfied she’d projected her anger onto something. Instead, she let her anger and her tears smother themselves within her, appearing cool and calm. She was not, however. Something inside of Liz was brewing, it was rampant, it was confused, and it scared her. She was alone in New York, and that was fine for the twenty-five year old she’d obviously become, but inside of her heart she was a teenager, still afraid and still desperately yearning for the shelter and protection of her home.

She studied the raindrops that were falling on the windowpane of the cab, thinking back of her day with Kyle. He’d always had such a compelling sadness in his eyes not many knew of. Liz attributed this wisdom, this sadness to his mother’s leaving and his father’s neglecting. Kyle had a noble selfless that was very admirable. He shielded those he cared for from any physical harm, and tried his best never to hurt anyone emotionally. Not to say he wasn’t highly opinionated and a prankster—he was. Kyle was the calm and the storm. He was arrogant but humble, charming but vain, loud but endearing, sweet but blunt, all in one. But when Kyle loved you, it was always with all that he had—and forever. Or at least, so she’d thought. He had a different kind of sadness marring his eyes, and he certainly didn’t look at her with the adoration he always had before. This pained her to her very soul.

Despite the lingering sadness on the surface, she was also quite elated. New York was as beautiful as she’d imagined it to be, hoped for it to be.

Her lip quivered as she sat in the cab in complete silence, ignoring the concerned and curious looks the driver shot her way.

Her mind was suddenly drifted back to the first day she’d met Kyle…

Every life had its days. Ever day was a story. For the small, dark haired girl who was swinging herself along in the outdoors of her house/restaurant, days hadn’t been bright for the longest of times. Her big doe brown eyes spoke volumes, though she herself did not speak. No, this little girl had always been made to feel small.

She’d only lived for seven summers, and this summer, which, she had coached herself to believe would be better but was not, found herself again in the swings, looking out, wondering if she’d ever be part of the excitement outside of Roswell. She could almost hear the chatter outside of her house, and she didn’t have to see to know that at that precise moment, many people were doing many things, changing their lives. Laughing. Crying. Living. Existing.

But Elizabeth Parker had never truly laughed, and she had taught herself to never cry. Just like that unusual chilly summer day, she didn’t feel all that cold—she was accustomed to this feeling.

She could hear the yelling all the way from outside of her house—Elizabeth was sure the customers could hear as well. These customers would tell their acquaintances, and they would tell their neighbor’s friends, and soon, everyone would know what Elizabeth had always known and always witnessed—the eccentric, wonderful Jeff Parker and his sweet wife Nancy were having problems, as they always had.

She wished she could go and play with the other girls and boys that had made adventures out of being mindlessly bored during their summer—it was Roswell, after all, and there wasn’t much to entertain them with. She had no friends, and at school she didn’t talk to anyone much.

She stopped swinging and wiped a tear furiously when she noticed a little boy with bright blue eyes and dark dirty blonde hair walking towards her.

“Hi,” he greeted uncertainly, waving hesitantly, standing there awkward. But as soon as he did, he gave her a brave smile that showed dimples and his missing front tooth. She grinned just as widely. “Hi!”

“Do they always yell like that?” he asked with innocent wonder.

“All the time,” was Elizabeth’s heartbroken answer.

“I have a lot of games at my home. My mom has gone away but my dad and I just moved in here. My dad never cooks on Saturdays and we always order pizza. Do you like pizza?”

Her grin was wider. “I love it.”

He offered his hand. “So do you wanna come?”

She nodded eagerly, and then looked back at her house. There was still shouting, still pointing fingers with blame, never once asking where she was. Firmly she stood up, taking his hand.

Clearly, it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

“Hey, what’s your name?”

“Elizabeth Claudia Parker. Everyone calls me Elizabeth or Lizzie. But I don’t like either much. You can call me Liz. What about yours?”

“Kyle James Valenti,” he answered proudly, his chest upright with pride as they made their way to his house.

“I like Kyle. Hi Kyle,” Liz answered, giggling.

He grinned. “Hi, Liz.”




~*~

CHAPTER #5


Liz decided that she truly hated her stupid curtains in the future. They were a distasteful shade of mustard yellow, but they were also so thin and useless that the sun would blaze through the windows, onto her face the first thing in the morning. She yawned, stretching like a purring kitten as she let the laziness of that morning drink into her. It was only for a second this bad mood seeped into her. Then she let the noisy excitement and the busy streets of New York fill her with a sense of adventure and belonging, then before she realized it she would be hop off the bed and blast her stereo.

Her eyes landed on a note and a red rose lying in the counter of the kitchen as she made her way over to it.

Lizzie Baby:

Shooting the movie with Vin Diesel starts to day.

I’ll be home soon and do naughty things to you.

Zan

She shivered, seriously hoping that no naughty things would ever take place with her and Zan. Thankfully, he was shooting the movie for a few weeks would be a good enough excuse for her not to engage with Zan, ahem, biblically. She did wonderful briefly, however, who the hell Vin Diesel was.

Liz ventured into the different rooms of her penthouse, exploring the luxurious tastes that she had acquired over the years. Her bathroom was ten times bigger then her entire room in Roswell. Her closet itself was a mini-apartment, filled with files and files of designer shoes and clothes. Her mere shirts cost more then the car she had been given for her sixteenth birthday, and she didn’t know exactly how to take that—how exactly had she grown so rich?

In less then an hour Liz found herself entering the building of Risqué, only to be badgered by Maria, the bubbly blonde. She had finally figured out her assistant’s name after venturing into her office cubicle. “You have many new messages, Miss Parker.”

“Um, can you read them out loud for me while we walk?” Liz suggested.

Maria gulped, grabbing at the first one. “Eliza-bitch, I hope you’re happy with grabbing the story before me, you vicious, calculating cold-hearted snake. I hope you die a painful, slow, agonizing death.”

Liz gasped and turned to Maria. “That was so mean.”

Maria rolled her eyes. She got these kinds of messages every day, why would it bother her now?

“Okay. Next one.”

Maria nodded turning the page of her notepad. “Miss Parker, I am glad you found it amusing to leave me waiting at the restaurant for three hours. You are a heinous, evil person that will surely rot in the hot fiery pits of hell.”

“Jeez, where’s the love?” Liz asked wryly. They made it to her office and she sighed, sitting down in the leather chair. She squirmed in it, crossing one leg to the other, scuffling around and making awkward, loud noises as her skin clashed the leather, and then give a small, somewhat frustrated growl and cross her arms with a scowl. She sighed, and turned back to Maria. “Maria, don’t my parents call?”

Maria frowned at the brunette. “Why, no Miss Parker. When you began working here they’d call all the time but you’d never answer. Then they just… stopped calling.”

Liz walked over to Maria, closing the door and pulling her into the red leather couch. “Maria, if I told you something would you promise to believe me and not tell anyone… not a soul?”

“Yes, Miss Parker. Whatever you tell me is confidential.”

Liz bit her lip, wondering if she should trust the blonde pixie, wondering if Maria would even believe her. “This story is going to sound… surreal. But I swear that it’s true. Remember the movie? Back from the future? Um… there’s something that happened to me. See, two days ago, I was sixteen years old.”

“Uh, Liz…” Maria’s voice trailed as she began to laugh.

“I swear under all that is holy that it’s true,” Liz insisted. “Kyle Valenti, the number that I made you look for, is my best friend. He gave me this magical locket that was supposed to grant me a wish. I wished I was older and successful and famous and… I woke up and I had skipped nine years of my life!”

“Are you on drugs?” Maria screeched, reaching for something from her pockets.

Liz frowned. “What is that?”

Maria started sniffing it frantically. “Oils. They keep me from panicking.”

Liz had tears in her eyes, grabbing at Maria’s hand. “You have to believe that it’s true! Haven’t you noticed anything different about me?”

Maria sighed. “Well, you are actually… nice. And you have been acting kind of spacey.”

“That’s because I have no idea who I turned out to be! Maria, please say you believe me.”

Maria turned to Liz, staring at her thoughtfully. “I believe… that you believe.”

Liz groaned, burying her hands in her face.

“Was your friend helpful?” Maria asked carefully. She didn’t really believe the story, but Liz was so desperate, so sad, so heartbroken she couldn’t really tell her so. Instead she tried seeing it from her boss’s point of view.

“No,” Liz muttered sadly. “It turns out we stopped being best friends that year. Something happened and I don’t even know why! It’s been only two days but I miss talking to him so much Maria.”

Maria raised an eyebrow. “You sure he’s just a friend?”

“Yes!” Liz answered, a little too quickly. “I mean, he’s… Kyle. He’s my best friend in the whole world. We’ve known each other forever. It… it isn’t like that.”

Maria didn’t seem convinced. “So what are you going to do?”

“I invited him to tomorrow’s party,” Liz confessed. “I just want to try to be friends with him again, I want to figure things out, investigate the nine years I’ve been missing. There has to be a point in my life where I did something terribly wrong. I have to figure out what it is so I can change it and go back to my timeline.”

“Meaning 1995.”

Liz nodded.

“My life is completely and totally over.”

Maria and Liz turned around to see who the melodramatic high-pitched squeal was coming from, only to reveal Tess, walking straight into the office with no question, eyes puffy red, hair a mess as she plopped into the couch in between the two of them.

Liz cleared her throat, putting an arm around Tess. Weren’t they ‘best friends’, after all? “Sweetie, what happened?”

Tess then went into complete gossip mode. “Well, I was on a date with this guy. He was so gorgeous, Lizzie! You wouldn’t even imagine. Seriously. I mean, he was funny, and he made a lot of points about politics and other stuff that I didn’t really understand. But it made me think!”

“Thank God for small favors,” Maria put in bemused.

“Maria!” Liz warned acidly.

Tess carried on, despite wanting to physically hurt Maria. Then he walked me over to my house and when I asked him if he wanted to come up he said he was too tired. He didn’t even kiss me good night! I mean, sure a peck on the lips. This blows chunks! I mean, a guy, a male, didn’t want to sleep with me. With me!!”

Liz looked entirely confused. She was trying to put this gently, but was having a hard time. “And that’s a bad thing? Maybe he’s respectful. Maybe in a world were words as chivalrous and gallant are dead, you, my dear friend, have found yourself a gentleman.”

Maria snickered. “And money grows in trees, and bees are repelled to honey. And while we’re at it, hell’s a wonderful time to spend the jolly time of Christmas.”

“Maria, please!?”

“I’m just telling it to her straight! Why would she want to pine for a guy that clearly had other things in his mind? I mean, maybe he’s head over heels in love and committed. Maybe he’s married.”

Tess shook her head. “Too young.”

“Maybe he has a girlfriend,” Liz suggested.

Maria shook her head again. “He’s been single for a while.”

“But he did ask you out!” Liz pointed.

“Actually, I did the asking out.”

“So… did he say he’d call?”

Tess put her face in her pillow. “No. He didn’t even lie! Most pigs lie!”

Liz cleared her throat. “Okay. This is the way I see it. You can chalk it up as a wonderful evening, you learned a thing or two about the world of politics, you had a free meal, you got to play dress up and bought something new, and he didn’t even lie so you don’t have to spend the next few days near the couch for a phone call that might not happen.”

Maria smiled. “Yup. That’s probably it.”

Liz sent her another threatening glare.

“But I really liked this guy!” Tess insisted. “His eyes were so coffee, chocolate-y brown it wasn’t even funny. Guys shouldn’t be blessed with those eyes, Lizzy, and his body. I’m talking Adonis material. And despite his lack of tactile gestures and lack of enthusiasm, I really did have a good time. He’s really great company, you guys. What am I going to do?”

Liz tried not burying her head in her pillow or wear earmuffs. But Tess’ constant whining was getting annoying. As if on cue, Maria looked at his watch. “Hey, don’t we have that appointment, Miss Parker?”

“You’re right! We do. Listen, Tess. I’m really sorry Mr. Perfect turned out to be a disaster.”

“Yeah. I’m never getting over him. I’m never dating again!”

“I’ve got a friend who’s looking for a date,” Maria offered.

Tess’ eyes shone. “Really? What’s his name?” she said through her sniffling.

“Stu.”

Tess shrugged. “I can work on that.”

CHAPTER #6

She remembers what she’d always felt since she was a small girl living in a small town in her small existence.

She’d always remained unseen. She’d had many dreams and many goals and so, so much inside of her that no one had ever seen inside. And that was what had attracted her to Max Evans in the first place. Liz Parker wanted Max to see her. Because she had always looked into his world through a crystal glass and she’d always been denied inside of her. Through visions of her childhood crush and everything else that was torn in between, she could remember just wanted to fit in his mold, to visit his world and stay there for a little while. Because in his world he was seen. His every laughter, his every tear, she was aware of it, had known it before he did.

Genuinely she’d believed she loved Max Evans.

She had always felt instinctively younger around him, because despite his immaturity and blatant arrogance, he had something in his golden eyes, and she’d believed that inside them inhabited an old soul.

Through her short years (the only years she’d lived, not the nine that had been added), Liz had lived a concealed reality, a safe, sheltered life that had to have been more—she was always waiting for more.

But she hadn’t wanted, had never thought this was her ‘more.’ Never had she believed that what she had yearned for so desperately, had dreamed of longingly was encased in this. She was of course, seen and known by everyone. They watched her every move and detailed every change she ever made. She was unreachable, untouchable, but everyone’s eyes darted towards her, almost like magnetism.

But she was alone. In this life that she had built for herself, that was filled with success and designer shoes, with celebrity friends and a top-notch job, she was alone because of who she became. It was the chaos her future Liz obviously made of her life. The hard-headed, cold-feeling, ice bitch that knew everyone but loved no one, and made sure she got everything she could take because she somehow deserved it. Was this really what she became, a self-entitled, self-seeking shrew?

Liz stood at the door of the Gala, where she was about to hold a party for her executive business friends, and a supposedly famous group was going to play. She was not sure of this, however. She’d never in her life heard of Evanescence, and furthermore, had never used or seen a dress of the kind she was wearing.

It was a beautiful, unearthly midnight blue. Strapless and fitting till her waist, where it flowed then comfortably in sexy ruffles around her knees. Her bare shoulders were offset by the diamond necklace she was wearing, and her long hair was cascading in wavy curls that fell loosely to her back. She was, to match, wearing strappy sandals with diamond small buttons. Whittaker had made her twirl around as she sighed in appreciation, stating she had a very Audrey Hepburn feel to her—and finally, a famous name that Liz was aware of.

Liz Parker sighed as she tucked a strand of hair from her face, her heels clapping on the floor as she made her way round tables, smiling at everyone that smiled their ‘I-know-you’ smile. She’d never been a social butterfly, or at least, not the Liz that she remembered. She and Kyle would always skip parties because they’d always prefer each other’s companies instead of the redundant, neuron-lacking, hormone-clutching mess that had been everyone else. And even if she had been at those parties, she would have probably been either a) drooling at Max Evans or b) drooling at Max Evans and pretending to know people she really didn’t while sitting on a couch and downing her sorrows on a cup of spiked punch.

Neither was very becoming.

“Oh, Lizzie!”

Liz faked a smile as she turned around to meet Tess. The blonde looked, Liz grudgingly admitted, pretty freaking gorgeous in her fuchsia ensemble. Her naturally curly hair was sleeked back and she wasn’t leaving much to the imagination.

“Hey, Tess. You look beautiful.”

“I know, right?” Tess breathed, skimming her hands through the satin pink dress.

Liz rolled her eyes, scanning the room. If she was honest with herself, she was looking for Kyle, having small hope that he might show up. She knew he wouldn’t. The way he’d stared at her, without recognition and without affection, had not only broken her heart, but assured her that he didn’t want anything to do with her.

“Oh my God… Lizzie, that guy is totally checking you out.”

Liz, trying to be the demure, discreet one, only half-turned her head and saw a very cute boy sitting down in a table drinking a Canada Dry. She had never, ever flirted with boys. She just couldn’t. She was always their sister. Or ‘one of the guys.’ She’d never been an ‘It’ Girl, had never been the coveted girl-next-door. She’d been Liz Parker, Kyle Valenti’s best friend that played basketball with him.

By what Maria had told her though, confidence had surely been built through Liz’s life over the years. She could get any number she wanted at any place she desired. Remembering this, Liz gave the boy the best dazzling smile she could muster. He was about eighteen, with spiky hair and adorable baby blues.

“Ew! Not that little kid! The man next to him.”

“That old man?” Liz scrunched up her nose at the guy in his early thirties. “EW!”

Before Tess could reprimand Liz for her weird behavior, Maria came waltzing in, practically skipping to them, a margarita on one hand, the other airily moving through the crowd. “Liz! Stop talking to the evil lady, come!”

Tess glared at Maria. “You’re evil.”

Maria sighed. “Yes, I kill puppies and I torture babies, too. Can we move on?” she asked with exasperation, taking Liz by the elbow as the brunette smiled at Maria gratefully. They moved towards the crowd and stopped at the bar, where Maria began to hyperventilate.

“Maria! It’s okay! Breathe.”

“It’s just… look!” Maria pointed.

Liz turned around and almost stopped breathing. It was Kyle, hands on his pocket, his eyes wandering through the room with admiration. He looked a little out of place, a little lost, but Liz had always just assumed it was because it was Kyle—he was born to stand out, he was born to be different.

His eyes finally met hers, and for a moment she thought of fleeing. It was far much easier to not deal with the magnitude of him, then having to look at his big blue eyes that had always really been too much for her to take, the intensity that she had once loved most about him also unsettled her… her undoing. He’d grown a stubble near his chin that crossed a shadow along his very handsome features, and not surprisingly, it looked sexy as hell. He was wearing a simple white shirt and yet she could see the broad muscles that hadn’t been there just a week ago. His skin was tanned, and despite the difficult circumstances that they had encountered each other in, he had really never looked better.

“Oh God. Maria… I can’t do this!”

“Why not? Isn’t he your best friend?”

“He was, Maria. He can’t even look at me now.”

“You have to make it right Liz, to go back.”

Liz stopped her stuttering as she turned to the pixie. “You… you believe me now?” she asked, her eyes round as saucers and her tone disbelieving.

Maria smiled. “I believe in aliens. Reincarnation. The Ouija board. Why not time travel?”

Liz smiled, hugging her. “Thank you.”

“What are you waiting for? Go!”

Liz hesitated, and as if on cue, the lights dimmed. She walked hesitantly, unsurely, chanting all the way that she better not fall. She felt like a young child about to go to the doctor for some reason, but wanted to endure the torture because in the end, you got a lollipop out of the deal.

Kyle’s eyes took her in and he was dumbfounded for a moment. “Wow, Liz, you look… wow.”

She smiled, her head hung down as a rosy color graced her cheeks.

She bit her lip and decided to look away. It wasn’t fair, really. Whatever she’d done, it had clearly stopped their friendship. She’d changed into this whole new person, and she had dumped his friendship for Tess and Max. He was almost too good and patient with her. He loved. Whether it was cruel or not to him, whether it was unjust or unfair, painful or enduring, whether it ended with his heart being ripped to shreds in someone else’s hands, usually hers—he just loved. And the fact that she could feel it when he so much as looked at her, not to say when he would hug her, that it really did always terrify her to the very core. He had the right to be pissed about the situation, and yet… he was here.

Realizing they were in the center of the dance floor and standing immobilized, he uncomfortably moved towards her.

Can you forgive me again?
I don’t know what I said
But I didn’t mean to hurt you

Her eyes wouldn’t leave his. “Kyle… you came,” she finally said, a genuine smile crossing her features, her small hand encased in his, his other hand resting on the line of her waist. It was awkward, because she realized—she’d never danced with Kyle. Never. Not a fast song, not a slow song, she had never, ever danced with her best friend.

He chuckled a deep, throaty laugh that sounded like music in her ears. “Yeah, I figured… free food, a good band, and… a chance to see what’s up in your life.”

She took this as a good omen. Sighing with relief, she took comfort inside of him. Because he was her Kyle, and he’d always been a part of her, in every recess inside of her that was good and loving, he was there, and it was his.

I heard the words come out
I felt like I would die
It hurt so much to hurt you

He fixated his gaze on their entwined hands, focusing on her slender fingers, on her delicate, small hand that was almost hidden in his, as he was taken back to years and years ago…

“Okay. Is she looking at me?” Alex Whitman asked eagerly.

Kyle sighed with exasperation, turning to look once more at Isabel Evans. She was, as always, oblivious to everything and anything concerning Alexander Whitman. She was surrounded by her cheerleading friends, Tess joined at her liver, and not far away from them was Max talking quietly to Liz. “Uh… sorry man.”

Alex noticed the frown in Kyle’s face, and his eyes traveled to where Kyle was looking. “Ah. Liz and Max. And his sudden friendship with her.”

Kyle twisted uncomfortably in his seat, remembering her harsh words. “Yeah.”

Alex looked at Kyle pensively. “You know… that girl has love. She has so much love. I’ve never met a sweeter, nobler person in my entire life. She just doesn’t always show it. Liz, she—she hides a lot and it takes time for her to come out. She does, though. If you push just the right amount and wait a little longer.”

“Yeah…” Kyle echoed sadly.

“You want to know something else?” Alex asked as he stood up, his guitar in hand.

“Yeah?” Kyle asked.

Alex smiled sadly, putting a comforting hand on Kyle’s shoulder. “If it were up to me… she’d be with you.”

Then you look at me
You’re not shouting anymore
You’re silently broken

“Is something wrong?” she asked, an expectant look on her face.

He wasn’t sure what it was. The fact that her eyes were not the cold ice he remembered… it was almost as if she were that sixteen year old he’d been in love with. The sweet, gentle Liz that had loved life and never took anything for granted. The one that had been his best friend. “It’s just… Liz, why are you doing this?”

Her face fell, her eyes visibly alarmed. “Doing what?”

“It’s been nine years, Liz… nine years.”

I’d give anything now
to kill those words for you

Each time I say something I regret I cry “I don’t want to lose you.”
But somehow I know that you will never leave me, yeah.

She cleared her throat, and tucked her hair behind her ear. It was now or never. She hated speaking in public, she hated doing this at all. She could feel his curious gaze on her as she cleared her throat. “I—I miss you. And I am so sorry. And I know that doesn’t make it better, it doesn’t excuse it. Whatever I did to you was horrible. But…” her voice trailed as he tried keeping his face straight, he tried not to show how this was hurting him. “I don’t know what your favorite color is anymore,” she continued, her voice cracking as her eyes watered. “I don’t know what your favorite food is, I don’t know where you work. I don’t know if you still love peaches and I don’t know if you still tug at your ear when you’re nervous. I have no idea if you’ve gone to Europe as we planned and I… you are my best friend in this entire planet. You’re the only person that I can talk to and I know that you would always listen, always let me be.” She hung her head down. “And you always used to accept me, whatever I did. Maybe what happened—you can’t accept it, and I understand completely but…”

She stopped, staring at him, her eyes pooled with tears. “You’re my best friend, Kyle. God, you are SO important. You’re one of the most important people in my life. The only one I can say has never let me down. I just want you to trust me again. I just want us to be able to be best friends again.”

‘Cause you were made for me
Somehow I’ll make you see
How happy you make me

And he couldn’t really stand it anymore. This girl who had hurt him and probably would in the long run. This girl that not long ago he would have done anything for, and probably still would much to his admonition—and Jim’s. It didn’t really matter that they hadn’t spoken, didn’t matter that they had become strangers. Right then he could see the fractured emotion in her entire body, and both were too tired to figure out the meaning of this conversation.

Exhausted, she let herself collapse against his lean chest and silent tears that threatened to burn. “Kyle…”

He cleared his throat, and as quickly as it had come… the moment was gone. Every moment that is perfect… goes away.

“I…” he paused, looking away before turning back to her. “I can’t do this.”

I can’t live this life
Without you by my side
I need you to survive

She stared at him with shock as she saw him slowly let her hands fall back to place. He turned around and every nerve in her body was shouting at her to do something, reprimanding her for her frankness.

“Kyle!”

He stopped for a minute, but didn’t turn around.

He did not want to get hurt again. Feelings he thought were long gone had resurfaced once again, and a part of him wanted to throw caution into the wind and embrace her offer without abandon. But a part of him, the big part of him that didn’t want to get too close to Liz again, was telling him she was still the ambitious, self-serving girl he’d left behind. And he’d just get in deep—hell, he already was—and he knew he’d never be able to pull himself up again and he would never want to. Her eyes were promising him the chance to fix their imperfect dreams, ones they’d always secretly hoped for. But how did you open your heart to someone, not knowing whether she will totally crush it?

He shook his head. “It’s too late, Liz.”

So stay with me
You look in my eyes and
I’m screaming inside
that I’m sorry

She tried her hardest to blink back the tears as she watched him walk away, taking her battered heart with him.

And you forgive me again
You’re my one true friend
And I never meant to hurt you

~*~