Roswell Fanatics

Posted: **Sat Oct 02, 2004 3:06 pm**

Title: I Am Not Felicity

Author: Kath7

Rating: TEEN

Summary: From a challenge by Talena at Outer Haven. Max pulls a Felicity and follows Liz to school in New York. AU No shooting, no high school dreaminess in this fic. This will be from Max and Liz’s POV’s alternating. Don't worry! If you don't know Felicity, this fic is still for you. Felicity is just a unifying theme. It's not really that important. Thanks to LongTimeFan for the beautiful banner.

Disclaimer: I own nothing that belongs to anyone else. Just borrowing with thanks.

Author's Note: Yes, it is true! I am finally working on this again! What can I say? I find myself inspired by Season 3 of Felicity coming out on DVD. I almost have a new part ready to go, but since this went down in the last great prune, and it hasn't been updated in almost a year, I'm reposting it.

For those reading Born of the Stars, expect an update later tonight.

Prologue

May 2002 - Roswell, New Mexico

~Max~

"Max, you’re late," my sister hisses as I slide into my seat next to her. "Mom and Dad are freaking!"

I glance over the crowd, picking out my parents fairly easily. My father is a little hard to miss, what with the giant camcorder attached to his face. My mother has her blonde head turned in his direction, as though she is giving him instructions, which she most likely is. This is how their relationship works after all. Mom tells Dad what to do and he does it. Not that Dad seems to mind.

Neither of them appears to be freaking at all either. Which means that Isabel is the one freaking. But I learned at an early age how to handle my neurotic sister. Always agree, no matter what. And if that doesn’t work, keep your answers short. I could go into a long explanation, composed of many excuses - because really it wasn’t my fault - but what’s the point?

A one word explanation will suffice in this case anyway.

"Sorry," I mutter. "Michael."

Isabel snorts. "I should have known." She looks past me in time to see my best friend Michael Guerin plunk himself down two people over. Missy Farley and Dan Funk separate the three of us, just as they have at every alphabetically ordered event since third grade. "Let me guess," Isabel whispers. "His hair gel didn’t agree with his cap."

I snicker, amused, mainly because she’s right. "Something like that."

"Well, you’re just in time," Isabel tells me, obviously deciding to forgive me. "Liz is next."

I look at my sister sharply. She is staring back, her eyebrows raised, a half smile on her face. "What? Did you really think I didn’t know, Max?"

"Know what?" I ask stupidly, my heart thundering in my chest. How could she possibly know? No one knows! No one has ever known!

Let’s be realistic here, Max, I amend silently to myself. Michael knows.

After all, he’s the one whose been forced to accompany me on all those after-school visits to the Crashdown, Liz’s parents’ restaurant, where she works as a waitress every day after school. I couldn’t have gone alone all those times. I mean, that would have raised Liz’s suspicions.

But Isabel should not have any idea. No one else knows about my secret obsession with Liz Parker, my lab partner since freshman year. I have been completely circumspect.

Okay, well, maybe I do stare a little too often. But who can blame me? Liz is probably the most beautiful girl on the entire planet. She is so pretty, it’s entirely possible she’s the most beautiful girl on any planet. One day I may find this out for sure, but for now I know her title on Earth is safe.

She has this long dark hair that looks so silky, it’s taken all my strength over the past four years of sharing her lab table not to reach out and touch it - just for scientific purposes of course. To find out if it feels as soft as it looks.

And her eyes…well, once I accidentally met her gaze, when she was serving me at the Crashdown, and let’s just say I know what it means to be lost in someone’s eyes. If Michael hadn’t kicked me under the table that time, I don’t know what would have happened. I may actually have done something about the way I feel about her.

Of course, that’s a lie. The possibility of me ever doing anything about anything to do with Liz Parker is so insane, it actually makes me snort to myself.

Anyway, Liz has these amazing dark eyes. They are so intelligent and so kind. It’s her eyes that make me think sometimes that, if she knew the truth about me, maybe she wouldn’t be scared. That maybe she’d find me as fascinating as I find her.

This is all forgetting though that no one is supposed to know I find her fascinating. Which is why I am still staring at my sister with my mouth hanging open. "Isabel, what are you talking about?" I finally manage to say. I sound half strangled and Isabel certainly notices because her smirk widens.

"Liz Parker." Isabel shrugs innocently. "And how you’re crazy in love with her."

Good Lord. Did she really just say that out loud? I look around frantically, to see if anyone’s listening. I breathe a sigh of relief when it seems that no one has heard us. My sister really isn’t talking that loudly. It just seems like she is because I am so shocked and mortified that she has somehow uncovered my deepest secret.

Okay, well, maybe it’s not my deepest secret. But it is my most private one. The alien factor probably wins the most important to keep quiet prize.

Yes, you heard me right. I’m an alien. So’s Isabel and so is Michael. We’re pretty sure we were in the Crash of ’47 but that’s about all we know about our origins.

How do we know we’re aliens? Well, I began to realize something was a little off when I started to be able to change anything I wanted into anything else. Like CD’s into jewelry (for Isabel okay?) or regular paper into money. And then there was the time I was walking down my street and my neighbour’s vicious dog came bounding towards me. It was kind of strange that, when I threw up my hands to protect myself, this green shield-like thing popped up.

Other than the fact that we can manipulate the molecular structure of anything, that Isabel can go visit people in their dreams, and Michael can blow up things with his hands, we’re pretty normal. Izzy and I were found wandering in the desert by our parents, who adopted us really young, much to my everlasting gratitude. Michael hasn’t been as lucky. His foster father Hank is kind of a dick, but Michael’s coming to Albuquerque with me in the fall (To get a job, not to go to school - the fact that he graduated at all is a bit of a miracle. It’s not that Michael’s dumb. He’s just kind of unmotivated. Isabel calls it lazy.), so it’s not for much longer.

Anyway, you can see what I mean about the fact that I do have other secrets besides the one about Liz. Secrets that could result in me being dumped into a secret government facility to have horrible tests done on me.

And, yet, somehow, the Liz secret is more important to me. How I feel about her…I just really don’t want it to become something that Isabel is going to tease me about. I’m tortured enough as it is. Like I need that stress on top of everything else.

"Isabel, I have no idea what you’re talking about," I repeat firmly, glad that my voice sounds steady this time. "Liz and I are lab partners. I hardly know her. Not to mention, she’s going out with Kyle Valenti."

And has been for 2 years, two hundred and sixty-five days now. Oh, and twelve hours. Can’t forget those twelve hours.

I swear I’m not a stalker. Please don’t think I am simply because I remember the exact day my lab partner started dating her captain of the football team boyfriend. It’s just that one tends to remember the exact time and place when one’s heart gets ripped in two. The time was two years, two hundred and sixty-five days ago. And twelve hours. The place was the student parking lot on the last day of school, freshman year. That was when saw I first saw Liz walk by with Kyle. They were holding hands and stopping ever few yards to kiss.

I didn’t go to the Crashdown for three months. In fact, I didn’t do much of anything. I spent most of that summer lying on my bed listening to the Counting Crows. At least I did until Isabel took all my CDs and ran over them with Mom’s car.

It wasn’t that I had ever expected that I would have a chance with Liz. I swear it wasn’t. It was more the fact that Liz having a boyfriend made it completely clear to me, for the first time ever, that I was never going to be able to have a normal life. Because of who I was, I was going to be relegated to the shadows forever, completely alone. There was no one on this entire planet for me.

It’s a slight problem when the only female alien of your acquaintance happens to be your sister after all.

Watching Liz embrace what it meant to grow up - seeing her with Kyle - it just about killed me. And so I had to stay away.

I thought I was over her after that summer. But when school rolled around and Ms. Hardy paired us for lab again, I knew it was never going to end. It wasn’t better. In fact, it somehow got worse. Absence definitely made the heart grow fonder in this case. I was doomed - am doomed - to pine for Liz forever. She represents everything normal that I’m never going to have. I really think that’s where a lot of my desire for her comes from. From the fact that she is all I want and, yet, all I’ll never have.

Or it could be the fact that she’s beautiful and just kind of great. Sweet and nice and funny and friendly and, did I mention, beautiful?

And really, really smart. Which is why she is presently standing at the podium below us, her burgundy gown rippling around her as she prepares her notes to give the valedictory address. Because, yes, Isabel and I are presently sitting in the middle of our West Roswell High School convocation. Hold your applause. My parents will provide more than enough, I assure you.

Liz is going to Harvard. She told me that just last week when I managed to work up the nerve to speak to her. Normally my conversation consists of "I’ll have a Will Smith burger, lots of hot peppers please," or "Can you pass that test tube?" But last week, mainly because we had just written our exam and there were no test tubes to be passed, I went out on a limb.

I wasn’t surprised of course. What I had been surprised to hear was that Kyle wasn’t going with her. Because, for some reason, Liz told me that too.

"He’s going to UNM to play football," she said, frowning a bit. She was staring at me in a really weird way. I made me want to look down to see if I had somehow stupidly put my T-shirt on inside out that morning. I managed to refrain however.

"That sucks," I replied. I am, you see, a scintillating conversationalist. Although inside, I have to admit, my heart was doing somersaults of joy. I’m not really sure why, even now. It’s not like it really made any difference. First of all, I’m going to UNM too and, second of all, I’m an alien. Oh and third of all I’m a big chicken.

Anyway, moving on. She told me this and I haven’t been able to get it out of my head since. Because, why? Why did she feel the need to tell me that she was breaking up with her boyfriend of two years, two hundred and sixty five days. And almost thirteen hours.

Also, it hasn’t happened yet. I saw them making out in a back booth at the Crashdown just last night. Michael and I left early, needless to say.

"Isabel," I mutter now. "How long have you known about this?"

"Max, you’re my brother and I’m not blind," Isabel tells me. I look at her. She actually sounds sympathetic. "I’ve known for a long time."

I can feel my ears burning. I know that my entire face is likely an unfortunate shade of scarlet at the moment. I turn to face the front again, unable to meet my sister’s eyes. I’m not liking the implications here. If Isabel knows, how many other people know too? What if my parents know?

Good God. What if Liz knows?

It’s then, and only then, that the most horrifying realization of my entire eighteen years occurs. And, yes, I am including the day I realized I was an alien.

It is in this horrifying instant that I remember that D comes before E. Since Isabel and I are sitting on the end of our row, our last name being Evans, the Ds are right in front of us. And guess whose best friend has a last name that starts with a D?

You got it in one.

I stare at the back of Maria Deluca’s blonde head, abruptly in full cardiac arrest.

She’s sitting in that way that lets you know without a shadow of a doubt that she’s been listening the whole time - all stiff and awkward - like she’s trying to pretend she hasn’t been listening.

Well, my life is over. If Liz didn’t know before, she’s most certainly going to know now.

I’m never going to be able to face her again. She’s going to think I’m a big creepy freak. I barely speak to her over the ten years I’ve known her and suddenly she’s going to find out I’ve been in love with her all along.

At the thought of Liz, I raise my eyes and finally focus on her again. I might as well stare my fill now. I’m never going to be able to be in her presence again after all.

She is speaking down there, poised and confident as always, but I can’t hear a word she’s saying. I know I’m going to regret this later, not paying attention. But I feel like I’m sitting naked in the middle of my entire graduating class. It’s a little hard to concentrate.

How the hell am I supposed to get up in a minute, go down there, accept my diploma as if nothing’s wrong? Everything is now wrong. She’s going to know.

My sister seems to become aware of my frozen state because she nudges me. "What’s wrong?"

I don’t answer, simply lower my eyes and stare at the back of Maria’s head again. I hear my sister gasp slightly to herself as she catches on. She doesn’t get a chance to say anything though because suddenly Mr. Seligman is standing at the end of our row, urging us all to our feet so that they can start filing us across the stage.

Liz is done speaking, the crowd is clapping and I missed the entire thing. For the first time in years I am relieved that my father is surgically attached to his video camera. At least I’ll be able to hear Liz’s speech on it before I kill myself.

As Maria stands, she glances in my direction. My first instinct is to immediately look in the opposite direction, but for some reason I don’t. Our eyes lock for one split second.

Now I don’t know Maria very well…

Okay, that’s a lie. I actually do know her pretty well, but not because we’re anything more than acquaintances. With all the many hours I have spent staring at Liz over the past four years, it was pretty hard not to sort of get a handle on Maria Deluca at the same time. After all, they’re almost always together. So, for example, I know that Maria has a strange obsession with crazy homeopathic remedies. I also know that she spends just about as much time staring at Michael as I do staring at Liz.

Which is maybe why she looks a little less accusatory than I might have expected at the moment.

But I’m getting totally off topic here.

My point is, I’ve barely exchanged two words with Maria in the entire time I’ve known her. But when our eyes meet, I can tell that she wants to say something to me. Unfortunately, Mr. Seligman is starting to nudge her away and is already telling my sister to stand up.

Maria faces the front again, following Tommy Dean down the bleachers and towards the stage. The moment has passed.

"It’s okay, Max," Isabel mutters over her shoulder. "This is all my fault. I’ll deal with Deluca."

I scowl at my sister. "You’ve done just about enough, Isabel. Leave Maria alone." First of all, none of this is really Maria’s fault. Second of all, I’m beginning to wonder if maybe she won’t tell Liz. She didn’t looked particularly threatening a few moments ago. Actually, she looked kind of intrigued, which, I must admit, has intrigued me.

And third of all, I know what my sister’s idea of ‘dealing’ with someone means. Maria does not deserve it, particularly for overhearing my sister bugging me about something that I am beginning to realize most everyone in this one horse town probably already knows.

If I let her though, my sister is entirely capable of turning Maria Deluca into a social pariah at her slightest whim.

Did I forget to mention that my sister is the queen of West Roswell High School? Well, she is. Cheerleader, prom queen, the whole nine yards.

Isabel’s method of protecting our secret differs slightly from mine, as you may have guessed by now. While I believe in drawing as little attention to myself as possible, and Michael believes in just generally never speaking to a member of the human race, Isabel has gone completely in the opposite direction. She is determined to be as normal as possible - as all-around American as possible. As visible as possible. Because who would ever believe that an alien could be homecoming queen? I mean, really. It’s absurd.

She also believes in making every human of her acquaintance scared of her, which her extraordinary popularity has accomplished quite nicely. Which is also probably why Michael and I don’t get much ribbing for being such weirdo loners. Because we really are kind of weird. And we’re definitely loners. But Izzy’s social status protects us.

"Max, it’s okay," Isabel says firmly.

"Isabel, if you do anything to Maria, I’ll tell Mom and Dad that you never even sent your acceptance in to Columbia."

My sister pauses a foot from the ground. "You wouldn’t dare," she hisses.

"I’m not kidding. Don’t test me. You’ve done enough. Seriously."

My sister whitens. "I did that for you, Max," she snaps. "I’m not going to leave you and Michael all alone here."

"I never asked you to, Isabel," I retort. "And it’s ridiculous anyway. You could have gone. We both know why you aren’t going."

She tosses her blonde head and turns away. I know she’s not going to speak to me for the rest of the day, but she’s also not going to bother Maria.

And I also know that I’m right and so does she. Isabel isn’t going to Columbia because she’s scared to leave Michael and me behind, not because she doesn’t want to go. My dad, who went there, is going to be super-disappointed that she’s not going. She hasn’t worked up the nerve to tell our parents yet and I’m playing pretty dirty right now by threatening her this way.

So you can see how seriously I take how easily she can destroy Maria. And for what. For me? Because of my stupid crush? It is not worth it. Maria is a nice girl. But Isabel has never really been able to bond with humans, except our mom and dad.

In spite of her iron control over the student body of West Roswell, my sister’s only real friends are me and Michael. The sheer irony of her existence is that she’s pretty much as big a loner as Michael and I are, only in a larger crowd.

In the end, she cares as little about humans as Michael does, but for a different reason.

Michael thinks humans are worthless, pointless, a waste of time to get to know. Because obviously we’re going home someday, so why bother?

Isabel, on the other hand, desperately wants to be like them. And because, finally, she never will be, she despises them.

I, as always, stand somewhere in the middle.

I have to admit, my entire viewpoint of humans centers on Liz Parker, because she is one of them. And since she is everything that is perfection in my eyes, the human race as a whole has to be pretty damn great too.

Liz is still sitting on the stage as I pass by several minutes later, after accepting my diploma from Principal Forrester and allowing my mother to snap what is sure to be a horrible picture for posterity while I am doing so. I don’t do well with photographs. This might have something to do with the fact that I absolutely hate being the center of attention - even my mother’s - but I digress.

The point here is that Liz doesn’t even notice me, as usual. She reached out and squeezed Maria’s hand as she passed her, but now she is turned slightly in her seat speaking to Ms. Hardy. I can hear that our teacher is congratulating Liz on her speech, so it’s not really Liz’s fault and, yet, I can’t help the pang of disappointment.

You see how ridiculous I am when it comes to this girl. She barely knows I exist and I still expect her to somehow acknowledge me on the biggest day of her life. Maybe it’s because if she did, it would make this the biggest day of my life, but since my entire life sucks, it shouldn’t be surprising when it doesn’t happen.

Obviously whatever I saw in Maria’s face a few minutes before has completely fried my brain. I am losing it.

Things only continue to get worse. My mother and father meet me and Isabel right at the end of the stage and force us to start posing for more stupid pictures. One of me with Dad. One of me with Mom. One of me and Isabel with Mom. One with me and Isabel with Dad. You get the drift.

Most mortifying of all? After approximately the fourth roll of film, my mother starts looking around for someone to take a picture of all four of us together and who does she grab by the elbow?

None other than Maria Deluca. Of course. She just happens to be standing right next to my mother talking to Sheriff Valenti, Kyle’s father, who is dating her mother.

I feel Isabel tense up beside me immediately at the sight of the sheriff. Valenti terrifies her more than anyone else in town. Everyone knows that his dad, the previous sheriff, is in a loony bin, having lost his job because he was obsessed with proving the existence of extra-terrestrials. My sister would never admit her paranoid fear of Sheriff Valenti, but I know her well enough to have guessed why she is so scared of him. She thinks this sheriff might turn out to be just like his father someday.

The sheriff isn’t exactly my favorite person either, being as he’s a major hard-ass and has given me two speeding tickets in the last sixth months when I know I wasn’t speeding, but he’s never seemed overly suspicious of the three of us. Not more so than he generally is of all teenagers I mean. He actually seems to try and be as by the book as possible in order to distance himself from his freaky dad.

He seems perfectly normal when he tilts his hat to my mom and says hello. He then turns away, not even acknowledging the rest of us. "I’ll see you at dinner, Maria."

Meanwhile, Maria is complying to my mom’s request readily enough. I force myself to smile, even though I am wondering what is going through that blonde head of hers. She lowers the camera and she is staring right at me, a half smile on her face.

She looks about ready to say something when my mother grabs Michael, who is just coming down off the stage. "Okay kids! Now one with Michael."

I am still looking at Maria, so I see her face flush slightly. I wonder if that’s what I look like when Liz is around. Because if it is, I have been living in some weird delusion thinking that no one in Roswell knows about my secret longing for her.

I can see that Michael is totally oblivious to Maria though as my mother takes the camera from her again and starts snapping pictures of my sister, my best friend and I. This reassures me slightly. Even if everyone and their brother does happen to be on to me, maybe Liz isn’t. Just maybe.

Of course, since Maria now knows the truth for sure, I still can’t be certain that Liz won’t find out sometime in the near future. My stomach clenches again and I glance towards the stage where Liz is finally descending, the last of the graduates having claimed their diplomas.

"…to the Crashdown tonight?"

I blink, realize that Maria is addressing me. "Huh?" I glance at my sister for guidance, but she is no help. Isabel is glaring at Maria, turns her back abruptly and starts talking to my dad, as though what happened earlier was entirely Maria’s fault for overhearing, not Isabel’s for blabbing. I can tell that she’s still listening with half an ear though.

"I was asking if you guys were coming to Liz’s party at the Crashdown tonight?" Maria repeats patiently, still looking sympathetic. She seems undisturbed by Isabel’s antipathy. "Everyone’s going. You’re totally welcome."

I frown slightly. "Well…We’re going out with our parents. For dinner." I feel like my tongue weighs a million pounds, can hear myself stuttering. All I want to do is reach out and shake Maria and demand that she tell me what she intends to do with her inside information.

Yes, it is true. My love for Liz Parker has now officially driven me insane.

"Don’t be silly, Max!" This is my mother of course, who has been eavesdropping. I stare at her when I notice that she has a huge smile on her face. I understand with horror that she thinks Maria is asking me out on a date. I almost burst out laughing at the absurdity of this situation. "We can go out for dinner any time. You should go be with your friends," Mom continues. I can see that she is trying to hide her glee. I have suspected for a while that my parents might think there is something wrong with me because I don’t seem to show any interest in girls. Which again reassures me that maybe the whole world doesn’t know about Liz after all.

But that she thinks that Maria likes me…Still nuts.

"Well, maybe," I finally say, frowning still. "Thanks."

My mother turns away, satisfied, and starts talking to Amy Deluca, Maria’s mom, exchanging all those cheesy pleasantries parents do at functions such as this when they hardly know each other. Of course, I’m sure my mother has a more nefarious purpose in mind. I have a feeling Mom is already planning my wedding to Maria and so has decided to get to know the in-laws as soon as possible.

I can see that Maria wants to say something more but just then Pam Troy, the class president, comes marching by, a pile of yearbooks in her arms. She practically tosses one at Maria, and hands me two. "One’s for Isabel," she instructs over her shoulder. "Guerin didn’t pay for one. Tell him he’s shit out of luck."

Nice. I feel a flash of anger. Not only is Michael standing two feet from me, and so Pam can tell him this herself, she also knows damn well that Michael can’t afford a yearbook. Everyone knows that Michael can barely afford to feed and clothe himself being as Hank spends most of his money on booze. Last year when Isabel tried to buy him one though, he nearly lost it on her, so nothing was said this year when they went on sale a few weeks ago. I know that Michael doesn’t really care about yearbooks anyway, but it’s the principle of the thing. I hate the way people treat my best friend.

It also annoys me because they way people treat him only reinforces Michael’s hatred of humanity. Right now he is standing expressionless, but I can tell by the way his arms are folded that he is thinking "stupid pointless human traditions." What he really means by thinking this is "stupid, pointless humans."

I am still stewing about Pam and so I’m as shocked as he is when Maria walks over to him and hands him her yearbook. "Here. You can have mine."

He stares at her, clearly at a loss for words. Isabel is paying attention now too, half-scowling, half curious. I think she is as concerned as I am by how Michael might react to this. The last thing we need here is a scene. I know that my reason for wanting to avoid it differs from Isabel’s however.

I have a feeling that how Michael reacts right now might be the be all and end all of Maria’s graduation day experience. And I know for a fact that he has no idea. Which is not a good thing. Not a good thing at all.

"Why?" He finally asks suspiciously.

"Because you’ll regret not having it," Maria shrugs. "Everyone should have a yearbook from their graduating year."

"If you give me this, you won’t have one," Michael replies logically.

"There are extras," Maria grins. "I’m on the yearbook committee. I’ll steal one."

Michael is still staring at her, although I think he’s trying to hide he’s impressed by this last statement. I grimace. Because the fact that he is thinking something positive about a human - any human - is going to dawn on him at any instant and then he’s going to turn into an ass. Even if it is because she apparently has criminal tendencies.

Three. Two. One…

"I don’t want it," he mutters, thrusting it back at her. I sigh, waiting for Maria to crumble. I am shocked when she doesn’t. Instead, as Michael turns on his heel to stalk away, Maria grabs him by the arm and stops him.

"Well, at least sign it for me," she says. "I mean, it’s the least you can do."

Michael is staring at her, like she’s some sort of weird specimen under a laboratory microscope. This is the first time in his entire existence that being an ass hasn’t made someone run screaming in the opposite direction. "Why the hell should I do that?" He demands, trying to sound mad, but sounding more curious than anything.

"Because I asked you to, Michael," Maria snaps. "We have known each other since elementary school. We may never see each other again. Maybe I just want a reminder that once upon a time we knew each other."

I glance at my sister. She meets my gaze, shaking her head. I can see that she has no idea what the heck is occurring before us either. Michael is actually having something of a moment with a human. It is the definition of strange.

I am probably as shocked as I’ll ever be when Michael actually looks at Isabel and grunts, "Pen?"

Isabel fumbles with her purse and pulls out a pen. I think she just wants to see where this is headed now. Because it is surreal. There is no other word for it.

Isabel, Maria and I all watch Michael open the yearbook and sign his name with a flourish. He looks up and meets my eyes. I frown at him slightly. He sighs, returns the pen to the page and adds "Have a Nice Life."

With that, he hands Maria’s yearbook back to her and this time succeeds in his escape, leaving me, Maria and Isabel standing there staring after him.

"Michael’s not…" I trail off. "He’s not exactly known for his eloquence," I finally say, trying to make Maria feel better. Although she doesn’t seem particularly upset. Instead, she is still following Michael’s progress through the crowd, a slight smile on her face.

Definitely weird.

She finally looks at me and shrugs again. "It was more than I expected. I didn’t think he even knew how to write." She giggles. I stare at her. She looks as though she’s had an enormous weight lifted off her shoulders. "Whew. That was fun!" She exclaims, twirling so that her graduation gown floats around her, her blue and gold yearbook clutched to her chest.

"Are you on drugs?" Isabel demands. I glare at my sister, but I don’t think she meant to sound mean. Instead, she seems truly perplexed.

Maria laughs again. "Only adrenaline," she admits. "I just made a little bet with myself this morning, that’s all. It worked out better than I hoped."

"A bet?" Isabel asks, trying to hide her curiosity, but I can tell from her tone that it’s as engaged as mine is.

Maria looks at her, seems to be weighing what to say, but finally shrugs. "Do you guys watch Felicity?"

Isabel stares at her. "Yes. Of course. Who doesn’t? I love that show. But what does that have to do with Michael?"

"I bet myself that I couldn’t pull a Felicity today and ask some boy whose always secretly intrigued me to sign my yearbook," Maria tells her, not looking the least bit embarrassed. "I mean, why not? It was worth a try." She clutches her yearbook to her chest gleefully. "And it worked."

"Michael intrigues you?" My sister demands, wrinkling her nose in disdain.

"Sure," Maria grins. "He’s hot. And sullen. He’s a total bad boy. What’s not intriguing?"

Isabel glances at me, obviously mildly revolted. She considers Michael to be her brother too and, so, the idea that anyone might find him attractive disturbs her.

Or at least that’s why I think she’s looking at me at first. Until I see the scheming expression that is crossing her face.

This can’t be good. And when she finally speaks, I am proven right.

"Max watches Felicity," my sister says, making my mouth fall open in astonishment.

I’m going to kill her. If I thought I was ready to murder her before, now I know for a fact that my sister is not going to survive to see the dawn of a new day.

Because, the horrible truth is, I do watch Felicity. Or at least I did until it went off the air only a couple of weeks ago.

Guys don’t have much choice in these matters when their sisters insist on making them watch with them so that they can dissect every small detail after. Isabel was the one who made me watch it. I swear to God, that is the truth.

Okay, I’m totally lying. I’m addicted to the WB. Isabel has nothing to do with it. So sue me. When I’m not stalking Liz at the Crashdown, I spend a lot of nights at home. I have to do something to keep myself busy.

I know that my face is probably ten shades of scarlet at the moment. I can’t even look at Maria. But when she speaks she doesn’t sound amused.

"It’s a good show," is all she says. "I’ve always related to Felicity. It took a lot of guts for her to do that thing with the yearbook. I’ve always admired that."

When I hear this, I raise my eyes and meet hers. She smiles at me.

It is then that I have a moment of perfect clarity. I know exactly what she wants me to do. And I know that I’m going to do it too.

Because I want to. I don’t want to go through life never taking any chances, particularly for things I really care about.

Maria dared herself to make an attempt to speak to Michael today and she did it.

And now she’s daring me to do the same. I can see it in every line of her face as she turns her head.

I follow her gaze to see Liz standing under a tree beside Kyle, Liz’s parents taking a picture of the two of them, their supposed break-up clearly still not having happened.

And, yet, I feel my spine straighten as I look back at Maria, who has her eyebrows raised, the challenge she is offering clear.

I have no idea how this happened, but it has. Somehow Liz Parker’s best friend has decided to take up my cause.

I guess I do know why though. What she just braved with Michael showed me that this girl gets me.

In spite of the fact that we have barely had a conversation in the ten years I’ve known her, Maria Deluca and I now understand each other completely.

If she could to it, I can do it too.

I may never see Liz Parker again after today, but I am going to make sure that she has to acknowledge me at least one time before she leaves Roswell forever.

Posted: **Sun Oct 03, 2004 12:29 pm**

Author's Note: Well, I'm glad everyone is pleased to see this again. Let me tell you, I'm pleased I actually have the time to write it again. lol Of course, the only person NOT happy to see this again is Gioia, because she knows that I'm about to tear M/L apart in a purely angsty fashion. lol She prefers to imagine them dancing the night away forever at that dorm party.

~Liz~

I sigh when I feel Kyle pull me more tightly against him. My father is still snapping pictures, but Kyle seems oblivious now. "This is a mistake Liz," he says quietly. "We can make this work."

"Kyle…"

"Liz, please. Don’t do this. We love each other. A little distance can’t just end that."

I look over at my father. He has lowered his camera, seems aware that maybe he shouldn’t be standing there anymore, that maybe he’s witnessing something best kept private. "Dad, can you just give us a minute?"

"Of course Sweetie," my dad says. "Mom and I’ll wait by the car. See ya Kyle."

"Bye Mr. Parker," Kyle says, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of me.

"Kyle," I say firmly. I pull away, put both my hands on his shoulders and push him until he has backed behind the tree in front of which we’re standing. "We’ve been over this. We agreed."

"I know Liz, but I just know that I’m not going to want to date anyone else," Kyle tells me. I can see that he really means it. His blue eyes are as earnest as they’ve ever been. For the captain of the football team, my soon to be ex-boyfriend fits none of the stereotypes. He isn’t a bohunk, he isn’t a jerk. He’s just a really great guy.

But he’s not for me. Not anymore. I love Kyle, but I’m not in love with him. And that’s just the way it is. This fact doesn’t mean that I want to hurt him though. I don’t. But I still know that this is the best thing.

College is going to be a fresh start for me - a chance to decide who I am out of the fishbowl that is the town I grew up in. It is about finally getting out of Roswell, New Mexico and I am not planning to leave anything - or anyone - behind that might make me feel even the slightest bit attached to this place.

"Kyle, you’re going to be at a big school," I remind him. "You’re going to be the star of the football team. I swear you’re going to forget all about me as soon as you get there." I place my hands on either side of his face, make him meet my eyes. "We have to do this Kyle. It’s time."

"But why now? Why can’t we have the summer?" Kyle complains. "Why does it have to be today?"

I sigh. "Kyle, there’s something I haven’t told you."

He frowns. "What? Is there someone else?" He begins to look around suspiciously.

"No Kyle! I swear! It’s just that…" I start to tell him that I just got the call this morning, that I have been accepted to the summer program at Harvard, that I’m leaving the very next day, but he has completely tuned me out now.

"There is, isn’t there?" I stare at him when I realize that his eyes have come to rest on someone in the crowd. He scowls. "It’s him."

I turn my head, following his gaze, feel my eyes widen in surprise when I understand that he is talking about Max Evans, my lab partner, who is standing at the edge of the crowd. He doesn’t seem to be looking at us, but he isn’t talking to anyone else either.

But then, that’s Max. Getting that boy to say two words is like pulling teeth. I have found over the past four years that I sometimes say really shocking things to him, just to see if I can get a reaction. I once told him I was giving up on Harvard to be a stripper in Vegas and he just smiled slightly and said, "That’s nice." He then asked me to pass him the Bunsen burner.

Okay, I didn’t really tell him that. But if I had, that’s what he would have done.

Besides, if I had said it, Max would have known I was joking, being as how everyone knows that I’m going to Harvard. Everyone has known it since I was five years old and my dad started telling them so.

My life has been planned out since the day of my birth. Not that I don’t love my life, but I’m ready for a change, ready to make some of my own decisions, ready to meet new people and have new experiences.

Just because it’s at the school my parents chose for me doesn’t mean anything. Really, it doesn’t. I want to go to Harvard. I want to be a doctor.

Well, I usually want to be a doctor. When I don’t want to be a writer that is.

I once told Max that, during one of our many one-sided biology conversations. I really don’t know why. It just came out.

"Would you be shocked if I told you I might not want to be a doctor?" I asked him abruptly.

He blinked at me in that way he has, like he’s been on some other planet momentarily and I’m dragging him back to Earth. Not that he ever seems to mind. The instant I speak to him, his attention is always right on me.

For once he actually momentarily continued the conversation too. "What would you be instead?" He asked, like he really cared.

When I told him a writer, he said, "I could see that."

That was the end of it but it made me feel very warm inside at the time. Like, for once, someone understood that maybe I wasn’t as predictable as everyone always makes me out to be.

Of course, he probably wasn’t thinking that at all. Max was probably thinking "Why is this strange girl telling me this? I barely know her." (This being Roswell though, that isn’t entirely true either. We’ve known each other since the third grade, but you know what I mean.) That’s the thing with Max though. He might be thinking these things, but he never, ever shows it on his face. Which makes him easy to talk to.

After that, he sort of became a sounding board of sorts for me. Because, when someone refuses to talk about themselves, or talk at all, sometimes a girl just decides to talk about herself. Since Max never seems to mind, it happens a lot.

In fact, he was the first person I told I was breaking up with Kyle. All he said was, "I’m sure you’ll make the right decision," and then he changed the subject to test-tubes. It was actually very weird, considering there were no test tubes in front of us at the time.

Weird, but intriguing. Because what is he really thinking when he answers me? I lied before. I do care. I want to know.

Okay, I’ll admit it. Max has always fascinated me. Who wouldn’t want to know what someone that quiet is thinking about? Plus he is very hot in a tall, dark and mysterious kind of way. (Although there’s really no mystery - he lives on Murray Lane, he has a sister named Isabel who is a major bitch and two nice parents. He really likes Will Smith burgers. I also know he was adopted after he and his sister were abandoned in the desert one night. Roswell - no real secrets in this town! You see why I want out.)

But why Kyle might think we’re having a clandestine relationship is beyond me. Although, I must admit, at the moment, Max does sort of look like he’s waiting to speak to me. How odd. I don’t think he’s ever sought me out in the entire ten years of our acquaintance. Well, except maybe that one time that he needed notes. Which was peculiar in and of itself, considering Max is never sick. I found out later they were for Michael Guerin, his best friend, who is almost always away.

In fact, I’m a little surprised that Michael graduated, but that has nothing to do with anything, so forget that.

When I asked him why Michael couldn’t just have his notes, Max stared at me for a full minute. He truly seemed to have no answer for me. I felt so sorry for him, I gave him the notes.

He never asked for notes again after that. I sort of wish I hadn’t said anything, because he’s never initiated a conversation again either.

"Max?" I say to Kyle now. "Are you crazy? Of course not!"

I know I sound more incredulous than I should. I mean, it’s not like Max isn’t hot. But the boy doesn’t talk. How can one develop a relationship with a mute? Not to mention, when, ever has Kyle seen me speak to Max Evans? My boyfriend is many things, but an AP Science candidate is not one of them. And the only place I’ve ever held a conversation with Max is at the lab table (if you can call his side of it part of a conversation). His standing Will Smith order at the Crashdown does not count either.

"Are you sure?" Kyle demands, meeting my eyes again. "I’ve noticed the way that guy looks at you Liz."

"What?" I shake my head, not understanding. "Max is my lab partner. I barely know him."

"Liz, he’s in the Crashdown practically everyday," Kyle reminds me, although he no longer seems angry. I think he can see that I’m truly shocked that he might think that there is something going on between Max and I.

"He just really likes Will Smith burgers," I say, but I am sneaking a peek at Max again, past Kyle’s shoulder. The crowd is starting to thin out and I can see that he’s disappeared. It is quite obvious now that he wasn’t looking for me at all.

"No one likes Will Smith burgers that much Liz," Kyle mutters.

"Um, listen Kyle, can we talk about this later?" I ask. Because I really do not want to talk about this right now. He knows how I feel about breaking up. It doesn’t matter if we do it today or three years from now. It’s going to happen eventually after all. We’re just not meant to be together.

He does deserve to know why we can’t have one last great summer together though. But the mere thought of going into the whole explanation now exhausts me.

"Liz!"

I stand on my tip-toes, give him a light kiss on the lips. "I swear I’ll fill you in on everything at the party. I want to have one more great night with you Kyle. Let’s not do this now, okay?"

He sighs heavily. I feel guilty again, but I still know I’m doing the right thing. "Okay," he says as he starts to trudge away. I watch him go, sighing too.

Why does everything have to be so hard? Kyle and I are not soul mates. We’ve had a great time all through high school, he’ll always be my first love, but he has to know as much as I do that we’re not going to end up together.

I can’t explain why that is, but I just know it. He is not the one for me. My whole life is still out there waiting for me. I can’t have a boyfriend right now. I just can’t.

My life exists far away from Roswell, New Mexico. And this includes the people in it. I want to have a chance to explore the world without everyone in my sphere having known me for my entire life, without everyone being able to pass judgment because they think they know everything about me, just because they knew me in diapers.

I cross my arms over my chest, lower my eyes, trying to figure out exactly how I’m going to finally make Kyle see this. How am I going to make him understand?

I shake my head though, refusing to think about this right now. This is my graduation. I still need to find my best friends Alex and Maria, hug them and see what they thought of my speech. I also know that Maria was going to try to talk to Michael Guerin today, if only just to say she had made him address her.

My best friend is obsessed with Michael, has been for years. He fascinates her, but she’s never done anything about it. Everyone sees that Michael wants nothing to do with anyone other than Max and Isabel Evans. I don’t really blame him actually. His foster father is kind of a big jerk. I don’t think he’s ever learned how to interact with other people.

How he and Max ended up friends, I’ll never know. The two guys could not be more different. Max is studious, kind of preppy and normal - well, except for the not speaking part. Michael is your quintessential rebel without a cause.

It must be the mute factor that brings them together. Neither expects the other to talk.

Of course, that really doesn’t make sense either. Because they do speak to each other. I see them talking to each other on a regular basis at the Crashdown when they come in and sit in the corner booth for hours.

I frown slightly at the thought of this. For one brief moment, I wonder if Kyle is right. Does Max Evans have a thing for me? I mean, he is in my parents’ restaurant almost every day. He can’t like Will Smith burgers that much!

Full of yourself much Liz? A small voice in the back of my head asks. I can feel my face heating up slightly, wonder if it’s at the thought that Max might like me or whether it’s because I am so ludicrously off base.

I’m losing it.

It’s this town. It makes people weird, including me. Which is another reason I can’t wait to get out of here.

Thinking of Max again reminds me that he is nearby and I look back towards where he was standing a few minutes ago. He is still gone. I wonder why I feel disappointed.

I nearly jump out of my skin when I hear his voice behind me. "Liz."

I whirl. "Max! Where the heck did you come from?"

"Um, from behind the tree," Max replies, gesturing behind him. I stare in the direction in which he’s pointing, confused. "I was waiting for you to be done with Kyle."

"So you were standing behind the tree?" I ask, unsure what he’s talking about.

"No," Max says quickly. He obviously thinks I think he was eavesdropping. "I was just waiting."

"Okay…" I trail off uncertainly. His eyes are glued to the ground and he is shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "Max, are you okay?"

I watch him take a deep breath. "I’m fine," he says firmly, meeting my gaze. "I really liked your speech."

I smile at that. It was cheezy crap and I’ll be the first person to admit it. But I can see that he really means it. "Thanks."

"You’re welcome," he says. We then stand there for what feels like ten minutes staring at each other.

I watch in fascination as his face starts to turn red right down to his cute ears, which sort of stick out. The slight imperfection only makes him more gorgeous. I haven’t really noticed how beautiful his eyes are before actually. I mean, I’ve always known intellectually that my lab partner is a cute guy, but having him standing right in front of me, the sunlight filtering through the leaves on the tree making his face half-shadowed, accentuating the brightness of his eyes, I feel my heart skip a beat.

I blink when he abruptly thrusts something at me, breaking the moment. I reach out and take it, realize it’s a yearbook. "I was wondering if you’d sign it," he says in a rush.

"Sure," I say readily. I frown slightly though, wonder what to write. We just had a very strange moment, Max and I. I don’t feel particularly comfortable plopping down on the ground in front of him and writing some stupid, generic message. I’m not sure why this is, but it’s the way I feel. "Can I give it back to you later?"

He looks surprised. "I guess so."

"Are you coming to my party?" I ask. "I can give it to you then."

"Okay."

"Okay then." I smile at him again, still feeling a little peculiar. "I’ll see you there. Bye Max."

I tuck the yearbook under my arm, turn and start to walk away.

I can feel his eyes following me the whole way.

~Max~

Much to my annoyance, we’re late for the party. My father insisted that we go out for dinner as a family in spite of my mother’s certainty that my destined bride was waiting for me at the Crashdown.

And so, here I sit, my leg bouncing impatiently under the table as I watch the waiter ring up our bill as slowly as he possibly can across the restaurant.

Liz Parker is waiting to give me back my yearbook after we had - dare I even think it? But it happened dammit! I know I wasn’t imagining things! - a moment under that tree after the graduation ceremony and I’m stuck in Senor Chow’s with my parents, my sister and my sullen best friend.

Yes, Michael came too, although I think he regrets it because Isabel won’t stop teasing him about Maria. And when I say tease, I mean tease. Like in the most juvenile fashion possible. "Michael and Maria sitting in a tree," she intones, forcing me to shake my head in sympathy at my best friend, whose expression indicates he is barely refraining from blasting her.

And this is the girl who earned early admission to Columbia. Standards have obviously lowered.

Needless to say, my mom just ends up confused. "Wait a minute! Maria likes Michael?" I can see the disappointment on her face, roll my eyes. "What about Max?"

"What about Max?" Isabel demands, cracking open her fortune cookie impatiently. My sister is still angry about the Columbia threat and so I am presently enemy number one. The mere mention of my name irritates her. Even though I am sitting right across the table from her, she hasn’t spoken to me once.

"I thought Maria asked Max to that party," my mother replies, sighing. She reaches out, pats my hand. "It’s okay Sweetie. There are other girls out there."

Isabel is now staring at my mother. "Are you saying that you think Maria has a thing for Max?" She starts to giggle.

I can feel myself starting to get mad. "Is that so impossible to believe Isabel?" I demand, barely stopping myself from kicking her under the table. I am not five, in spite of the fact that my sister and I are considered twins, share the same birthday, and are supposedly the same age. Only Isabel acts like she’s five. But I digress.

"Puh-lease," Isabel says, waving her fortune in the air dismissively.

"He can have her," Michael mutters.

"I don’t want Maria!" I practically bellow. I feel my face redden when the couple at the next table glances over, obviously disturbed.

Okay, so maybe sometimes I do act like I’m five. But only when provoked.

"Oh no," Isabel agrees, the malicious smile on her face sending a shiver down my spine. "We all know who Max wants, don’t we?"

Whoa. Something is seriously wrong with my sister. She’s never - not once - directed that expression at me. "Excuse us for a moment," I say through gritted teeth, climbing to my feet. "Isabel, I need to speak to you. In private. Now."

"How rude! We’re in the middle of a dinner here Max," Isabel snaps, her dark eyes glittering.

My father intervenes here. "I don’t know what’s going on between you two," he hisses in an undertone, "But I want you to deal with it. Right now."

"Which is what I’m trying to do Dad," I say patiently, still staring at Isabel.

She tosses her head. "Oh fine." She flounces to her feet and then flounces out of the restaurant. My sister has perfected the art of flouncing.

"Okay, what the hell is your problem?" I demand the instant we’re alone.

"I don’t have a problem Max," Isabel replies. She has her back turned to me, her arms crossed and it is very evident that she has no intention of telling me just why she has been so angry at me all day.

"Isabel!"

She whirls suddenly, glaring. "Why didn’t you tell me you got into Manhattan?"

"What?" I have absolutely no idea what’s she talking about.

"Manhattan University Max," my sister repeats slowly, as though I’m two and possibly might not understand large words. "You got in. I saw the catalogue on your desk this morning."

"So?" I am at a loss. "You know I don’t really want to go there. I’ve always planned to go to UNM." I pause, in order that what I’m about to say might penetrate more effectively. "So that Mom and Dad could afford to send you to Columbia."

"Oh please!" Isabel exclaims. "You knew I’d never go, not without you. And now I find out that you can come with me? All this time you’ve been able to come with me and you never said anything."

I stare at her. "Isabel…" I’m not sure why I feel guilty. My sister knows I don’t want to go to New York. That’s her dream. My dream has always been a lot closer to home and comes in the delicate, dark-haired shape of Liz Parker. I don’t give a damn about college. I really never even considered Manhattan. I know my parents can’t afford to send both of us that far, particularly with the price of Isabel’s tuition to Columbia.

Even when my sister bailed on Columbia, it never once occurred to me that all it would take to change her mind was for me to go with her.

"Whatever!" Isabel throws her hands up, obviously not wanting to hear anymore. She turns away, trying to pretend that she’s not about to burst into tears. ‘Tell Mom and Dad I walked home." And, with that, she storms off.

I stand there for several long moments, unsure what to do. Should I go after her? I almost make a move to do so when Michael, who appears abruptly at my elbow says, "Let her go. She needs time to cool off."

"I don’t get her at all," I reply, shaking my head. "How is this my fault?"

"Izzy’s battling her demons," Michael shrugs. "She hates being scared, so she’s blaming you for the fact that she’s not going. It’s not your fault Maxwell."

I know he’s right but I still feel terrible for my sister. I had no idea she was this dependent on me.

We stand there in silence for another minute. I absolutely know that I should go after Isabel and, yet, my thoughts are starting to drift towards the Crashdown, where I know Liz’s graduation party is probably in full swing by now.

I am such an ass.

My parents come out of the restaurant behind Michael and I. "Where’s your sister?" My dad asks, looking around, perplexed.

"I’m here."

I turn my head in surprise, see Isabel walking towards us from the opposite direction to the one from which she left. She looks at me a little sheepishly. I can see that she has indeed cooled off and now feels bad. "I just walked around the block." She pauses, then says in a rush. "Dad, I screwed up."

"What’s wrong Honey?" My mom intervenes, my sister’s tone obviously putting her instantly on guard.

"I forgot to send in my acceptance to Columbia."

Michael and I exchange a glance. Uh oh. My dad is about to flip his lid.

My mother seems to recognize this too because she turns to me quickly. "Max, I think you and Michael should head over to that party now. Isabel will be there in a little while."

"Iz…" I ignore my mother, addressing my sister, really worried now. What the hell is she doing? "What’s going on?"

"It’s okay Max," Isabel says calmly. "I should have told them right away."

I look at my father, who is standing with his arms folded, the vein at his temple pulsing in a most disturbing manner. "Dad, it’s not her fault," I say quickly.

"Max, go," Isabel snaps. "It’s fine."

I grimace. "If you’re sure…"

Isabel meets my eyes. "Max, you have somewhere to be," she says more softly.

"Are you going to come? After, I mean?"

"Yes," she assures me. "I’ll be there."

I scratch my head uncertainly, but start to walk away, following Michael, who doesn’t need to be told twice. He hates family confrontations. They rarely occur in my family, but he always disappears immediately if he happens to be around when one rears its ugly head, even if it’s about as something as arbitrary as who forgot to empty the dishwasher. I think it’s because he sees my family as perfect and he likes it that way. Any slight deviation from his ability to resent me for it undermines his well-ordered universe.

Michael might hate humans and, yet, he envies Isabel and I our parents. We’ve always known it, but none of us has ever spoken of it. It is a forbidden subject.

I am still fretting about my sister when we arrive at the Crashdown. If you think guys aren’t supposed to fret, well, I’m sorry…I fret on a regular basis. Wouldn’t you, if you had to deal with Michael and Isabel and their moods, while trying to keep a secret of the magnitude of the one we possess at the same time? For two people who like to stay as unnoticeable as possible, they both have a horrible tendency to cause scenes.

"I can’t believe I’m here," Michael mutters as he follows me through the front door. I can barely hear him, what with the pounding music that assaults my ears the instant we enter. It’s impossible to even hear myself think, which is probably a good thing.

Too much thinking results in over-thinking things, as Isabel has obviously done with Columbia. And since I can little afford to over-think things at the moment - when I am about to come face to face with Liz Parker, who is still in possession of my yearbook - I’m glad for the distraction.

The restaurant is packed, all the tables that are normally in the center of the room having been pushed to one side to make room for dancing. They are heaped with food. The booths are all full too, piled with members of my graduating class, some even sitting on each other’s laps to make more room.

This is not my scene. I can feel myself getting overwhelmed. I have absolutely no desire to talk to any of these people. I haven’t spoken to them during my entire high school career. Why the hell would I want to start now?

They do look like they’re having fun though. I feel a slight pang, wish that I could be as carefree as these kids I’ve know most of my life. My sister would be totally at home here, having built herself a place in this world, if even only for her own cryptic reasons.

But I also know that Isabel doesn’t find her world very fun either. So maybe I’ve been right to stay out of all of this.

"I’m out of here!"

I blink, realize that Michael is actually yelling directly into my ear. It is the only way he can possibly be heard.

I am very tempted to follow him when he leaves unceremoniously by the door through which we just arrived. Maybe I can come see Liz tomorrow, get my yearbook back then. It’s not like she’ll ever notice I didn’t show.

But maybe she will… a small voice in the back of my mind reminds me. You did have a moment.

I feel my stomach clench at the memory of how she had looked at me under that tree this afternoon. It was only for an instant, but for that one instant she looked at me like she had never seen me before. And that, now that she was actually looking, she liked what she saw.

I’m here. I might as well find her and get this over with. It’s not like she hasn’t just written something like "Have a Nice Life" after all. I mean, who really puts thought into writing into an almost complete stranger’s yearbook? Even if you did maybe, possibly, have a moment, if only in said almost complete stranger’s delusional head.

I start to wade through the crowd, grimace when I abruptly hear Kyle Valenti’s voice as the music disappears for a moment, whoever’s changing the CD obviously not ready for the song to end. "C’mon Liz! I thought we were going to have one more great night."

Now I don’t know Kyle Valenti very well, but even I can hear the sarcasm from a mile away. Every head in the Crashdown whips in the direction of his voice. I follow it too and see Liz seated at the counter, glaring at Kyle in annoyance.

Everyone seems to recover when the music starts again, not nearly so loud this time because it’s a slow song. They’re all immediately preoccupied with finding someone to dance with (or should I say, make-out with. I may not attend these functions on a regular basis, but I do watch Dawson’s Creek. What can I say? I already told you I’m a WB junkie and it comes on right before Felicity, but again I digress).

Everyone is dancing except Kyle and Liz, who are quite obviously in the throes of a major argument now. I can’t help but stare, watch as Kyle throws up his hands in anger and storms away.

He doesn’t leave though. I watch Liz watch him as he goes and grabs Vicky Delaney - from where she’s seated on Tommy Dean’s lap might I add - and pulls her onto the dance floor.

I feel a flash of anger on Liz’s behalf, but when I look back, she doesn’t seem upset. She’s turned back to whatever has her occupied at the counter.

"She’s still writing in your yearbook."

I nearly jump out of my skin, realize that it’s Maria, who has appeared magically at my side. She sounds gleeful.

"What?" I say carefully, unsure is she’s messing with me or not.

"She is Max. I’ve been with her all afternoon. She brought it home, set it on the counter and she’s been sneaking glances at it ever since. She’s really been thinking about what she wants to write. She finally just sat down with it a few minutes ago."

I don’t respond to this. I mean, what is there to say? My entire body is frozen with what might be joy or with what might be absolute, gut-wrenching terror.

"Max?" Maria waves a hand in my face. "Don’t you have anything to say?"

"What’s wrong with Kyle?" I ask, forcing myself to speak so that I don’t come across as any weirder than I already do. I am hoping against hope that he isn’t mad at Liz because she’s writing in my yearbook when she should be spending time with him. He is her boyfriend after all. Although considering the way Vicky Delaney is presently draped all over him, maybe he’s not anymore.

"Liz told him she’s leaving tomorrow," Maria sighs.

"What?" I stare at her, my heart falling to my knees.

Maria nods. "She just found out this morning. She got into a summer bio lab at Harvard. She’s starting early."

Now, even though Maria is already aware that I’m a sensitive guy - she does know I watch Felicity after all - the last thing I want to do is burst into tears right in front of her.

I thought I had a whole summer ahead of me of admiring Liz from afar before having to finally bid good-bye (if only in my head) to my dream girl. And now I’m being informed that this is untrue.

She’s leaving tomorrow.

And suddenly she’s standing right in front of me.

"Hi Max!" Liz glances at Maria, obviously a little surprised to see her. "What’re you guys talking about?" I’ve heard that tone from Isabel enough times to know that she’s also a little suspicious.

My immediate thought is that Maria told her what she overheard this morning. Oh please, no.

Although, maybe if Maria did tell her…and she’s taken so long to decide what to write in my yearbook…

Okay, I’m losing it. Liz is a thoughtful person. It doesn’t mean anything that it’s taken her all afternoon to decide what to write.

And, the thing is, I trust Maria. I know she didn’t tell Liz. Somehow, I just know it.

Liz is merely suspicious because it is odd that Maria and I are standing here talking. Before this morning, I don’t think we’ve exchanged two words since the sixth grade when we were in that group together doing a book report on The Incredible Journey. And even then I just sort of sat there and let she and Lana Taylor do all the talking.

"Oh, this and that," Maria replies, waving her hand in the air. She smiles mischievously. "Actually, we were talking about how Felicity ended. Max watches it you know."

Liz blinks. "You do?" She asks, slightly incredulous.

I sigh wearily. Apparently Maria had decided that if she is going to have to keep quiet about my secret, she at least gets to torture me. "I have a sister," I mutter.

"We all have our guilty pleasures," Maria adds dismissively. "Anyway, are you finally done with that Lizzie?" I can tell that she is now teasing Liz, feel majorly relieved. "What is it? War and Peace?"

Liz seems mildly embarrassed. "I’ve been a little unfocused today," she admits. She looks at me again. "I’m not done yet."

"Oh, well…" I can tell that she’s uncomfortable and I’m not sure why. I reach out to take the yearbook from her. "Whatever you wrote, I’m sure it’s fine."

Liz turns slightly so that I can’t grab it. "No!" She exclaims a little too forcefully. I frown, glance at Maria, who looks as perplexed as I feel. "I’m going to finish," she adds firmly. "I’m just going up to my room where I can think. Will you wait?"

Okay, what the heck is happening here? "Um, sure?" The end is raised slightly, like a question, because I have no idea why writing in my yearbook has turned into such a gigantic production.

With that, she turns on her heel and walks away, pushing through the crowd and then through the swinging door which leads into the back of the restaurant. Liz’s family lives above it by the way.

"Well, this is interesting."

I look at Maria. She is frowning in the direction in which Liz just disappeared. I can’t help it. I have to ask. "What is?"

"Now if I told you, where would be the fun in that?" Is all she says in reply. "Listen Max, I have to go. I’m singing with Alex’s band in a few minutes." She is referring to her other best friend, Alex Whitman, with whom she and Liz have been bosom buddies since fifth grade.

With that, Maria whirls away, leaving me standing there like a big idiot.

I look around, unsure what I am supposed to do. There is no one in the restaurant I am even remotely interested in talking to, but Liz asked me to wait. The mere thought that she is planning to address me again - on purpose - means that I would wait until the end of time.

I inch my way to the counter, sit uncomfortably on a stool, unable to keep my eyes off the swinging door, through which I hope Liz will soon return.

"So it is you."

I turn my head, stare at Kyle Valenti. He isn’t glaring at me exactly, but he doesn’t look any too friendly either. He is standing over me in a way that I am pretty sure is meant to be intimidating.

"What is?" I ask, resisting the urge to shrink away. I may be a loner, but I’m not scared of any of these people either. Not physically anyway. In terms of their ability to contact the FBI, maybe.

But I can tell already, this has nothing to do with my secret.

At least not that one.

"You’re the reason Liz broke up with me," Kyle snarls.

"I am?" What? What?

Since I know this is totally untrue, why the hell did my heart just leap with joy? Am I crazy? Or, more accurately, is Kyle crazy? Because this is blatantly ludicrous, in spite of my heart’s brief delusion before my brain reprimanded it.

"She ignores everyone all night and then when you show your face, she can’t get over here fast enough. Seems a little suspicious to me."

In what psycho universe?

"I think you’re mistaken," I say, my voice impressing even me with its calmness. "Liz and I are just friends."

Which is, of course, overstating matters, but whatever. But, for some strange reason, this seems to enrage Kyle even more.

"Friends huh? She told me you barely knew each other. Funny how this relationship seems to be developing."

Uh oh. His nostrils are flaring. This cannot be a good sign. Nor is the fact that Kyle is now leaning into my face so closely, I can smell the alcohol on his breath.

Here’s the thing. As jealous as I am of Kyle Valenti, I know that he is not usually this big of an ass. He’s actually a pretty nice guy. Liz wouldn’t be going out with him if he wasn’t. It’s not that I know him particularly well, but just like with Maria, I know him from watching Liz. He’s really not a bad person, in spite of what you might expect, what with all the football player stereotypes, most perpetrated by the WB might I add. I may be addicted, but I do recognize its failings too. The miscasting of Superman aside, their biggest crime is the fact that they do generally make student athletes look like fools.

Kyle Valenti is no fool. In spite of the fact that he apparently thinks his girlfriend carries a secret torch for me. Because that is just loony-tunes.

Anyway, none of this helps me out of my current predicament.

The alcohol on his breath was obviously meant to take the edge off of whatever’s going on between he and Liz.

Instead, the edge has sharpened. And, somehow, I have ended up poised under the guillotine.

I look around, see that people nearby are beginning to pay attention to what is happening between Kyle and I. My face is starting to burn already, my traitorous body totally unused to being the center of attention.

When the captain of the football team is trying to pick a fight with you, apparently this is what happens. Everyone notices.

"Well, maybe not friends," I backtrack quickly. "Lab partners."

"Is that what they’re calling it these days?"

"Um, I’m not sure what’s going on here Kyle," I say, managing to slide off the stool. I feel slightly better as I am taller than him by a good three inches. That doesn’t last long though because he doesn’t back off. "But you’ve got this all wrong."

I need out of here. Now. Almost everyone is staring at us, the music gone as Mr. Parker was about to introduce Alex and Maria’s band.

"Max, what’s going on?"

My relief at the sound of my sister’s voice is so great, I literally feel my knees weaken. I glance to the side where she has materialized suddenly, like an avenging angel. She has her arms folded and she is glaring at Kyle.

He stares at her for a full minute, obviously trying to understand what her appearance means through his alcoholic haze. Everyone else seems to get it immediately, because my sister has swept them all with one withering look and they’ve all turned away.

Now that’s power. And they don’t even know that there is a real reason to be scared of Isabel. That she’s an alien freak, just like I am.

"Nothing Iz," I say quickly. "Let’s just go."

Kyle has slunk onto the stool I recently vacated and is starting to look like he has lost his best friend. I feel a pang of sympathy in spite of myself. The guy is clearly suffering. It is also blatantly obvious that Liz has indeed dumped him.

But why did he zero in on me?

Needless to say, I’m confused. Did Liz say something to him? Is that why she’s taking so long with my yearbook? She’s trying to figure out a way to tell me that she likes me just as much as I like her?

For one split second I allow myself the luxury of hope. I allow myself the rush of exhilaration the mere thought of Liz Parker showing a modicum of interest in me engenders.

And then I force it to stop. Because even if it’s true, even if Kyle isn’t a big drunken idiot, there is absolutely nothing I can do about it.

I can’t be with anyone. Not ever. Not even Liz.

It is too late to find out anyway. Because my sister has taken me at my word, has grabbed me by the arm and has pulled me unceremoniously out of the Crashdown.

And, thus, end my high school fantasies of Liz Parker.

Now this isn’t as momentous as you might think.

I only say this because when I find my yearbook propped up on my front stoop the next day, it’s exactly then that my college fantasies begin.

Posted: **Mon Oct 04, 2004 6:59 pm**

AN: Yes, light-hearted, but it wouldn't be Max and Liz if there wasn't the angst too, now would it?

Of course, if you know anything about Season 1 Felicity (and the fact that I am a die-hard dreamer) then you know all will end well. For those who know Felicity, just remember the following code: Max=Felicity; Liz=Ben; Tess=Noel; Charlotte=Sean; Maria=Sally; Michael=(well, Michael);Isabel=Elena(kind of);Alex=Julie (minus the hooking up with Ben part); Kyle=Various people; Sean...well, I guess we'll just to wait and see who Sean is.

Even though this is inspired by Felicity, it will always maintain its true Roswell flavour.

Part 1

September 2002 - Manhattan University, New York, New York

~Max~

I am rubbing the back of my neck wearily as the elevator doors open. I am just returning to my dorm after spending the afternoon helping Isabel to rearrange all the furniture in her own room at Columbia on the other side of the city. I am not in the best of moods either, being as this is the third time in two days that my sister has somehow managed to trick me into doing this. The first time was a freebie, but she knew the second and third were going to need serious planning and included concerns about being homesick and then concerns about a phone call she had received from Michael. They were both bald-faced lies to get me to rush over there, but I deserve it. I’m a sucker. You’d think that after twelve years of living with this girl I’d be onto her.

Anyway, I knew there was a reason I shouldn’t go to school in the same state, let alone city, as Isabel. She has the tendency to abuse her sibling privileges. But the pros of having her so close certainly outweigh the cons. I cannot deny that I would have missed my sister a lot had she come up here by herself.

So, at this point, you may be wondering exactly how and why I’m living in New York. Sometimes I still ask myself the same question, even though the decision was made more than a month ago now. The answer, in the end, is really quite simple. It is also quite embarrassing and is not going to do much to convince you that I am not a stalker.

Liz Parker goes to Manhattan University. Not Harvard, but right here - to the same school Isabel was so mad at me for not accepting. While this all might sound a little creepy - the fact that I ended up here - it cannot entirely be blamed on me. There were many other factors at work.

Okay, well there was one factor. My sister. But it’s a factor. Give a guy a break please.

Coming here meant that Isabel was rendered practically speechless with joy. Of course, she was going to New York anyway. After talking to my parents, and after my dad called in a few favors so that she could still go, Columbia was back on for my sister. She was thrilled and scared out of her mind at the same time. I wish I could say that I approached my parents about Manhattan and whether we could swing it right then. I am ashamed to say that I did not. It still did not occur to me at all that maybe something could be arranged where the money was concerned. After all, Manhattan did offer me a partial scholarship.

But, here’s the thing. I have absolutely no clue what the hell I want to study or what I want to be someday. I really, truly have no idea if I’m going to be on this planet long enough to figure it out. And asking my parents to spend so much money to send me to New York just because my sister thought, for some weird reason, that she needed me…(I mean, when has Isabel ever really needed me?) well, it just seemed wrong.

Until Maria called me at the end of July to inform me that Liz had decided that she hated Harvard, was leaving her summer program there and was moving to New York to work until she started at Manhattan University in the fall.

At first, I was so shocked that Maria Deluca had actually called me on the phone, what she was telling me didn’t quite register. "What?" Was all I managed to stutter into the receiver.

Since I am not publicly well known for my eloquence anyway, this did not faze Maria at all. "You heard me Max. This is destiny. I know for a fact that you’ve been accepted there too. Isabel told me."

Strangely, my sister and Maria struck up something of a friendship over the summer. Izzy started hanging out at the Crashdown more, mainly because Michael got a job there so that he could save up for when he and I moved to Las Cruces together. I think my sister really likes Maria though, mainly because Liz’s best friend doesn’t seem at all scared of her. It just goes to show what a secure person Maria is. The thing is, she was lonely too, what with Liz gone to Harvard and Alex at computer camp. And, thus, the odd couple was born.

So, I was not shocked that my sister had been telling tales out of school about me. "Why isn’t Liz staying at Harvard?" I asked, instead of focusing on the fact that I had indeed been accepted to Manhattan. Because, in the end, Liz’s motives interested me more. I remembered what Liz had once told me - that she didn’t really want to be a doctor, but a writer. She had tried to pass it off as just casual conversation, but I had seen the bright expression on her face at the time. She had really meant it.

"Apparently she signed up for a creative writing course to balance all that science." I could almost hear Maria’s nose turning up in disdain at the thought of all those science courses. "The teacher was a guest lecturer from Manhattan, Liz fell in love…" My heart dropped. "And is following her back to New York."

Her. The best word in the English language. Yes, I am a loser. Moving on.

"Well, that’s interesting," was all I managed to say, although my mind was already racing as I’m sure Maria was fully expecting.

"Interesting?" Maria screeched, forcing me to hold the phone away from my ear. "This is more than interesting Max. My best friend has broken with all expectation and has decided to grab onto what she wants with both hands. I’d say it’s about time for you to do the same. I read what she wrote in your yearbook girlfriend. Get your ass in gear and get into that school."

My eyes narrowed. "You read my yearbook?" I demanded. Isabel was so dead. Her definition of privacy differed entirely too much from mine.

"Liz showed it to me before she gave it to you," Maria replied hastily, as though sensing my anger. I still have a feeling that this was not entirely true, that she was protecting my sister, but I chose to accept it at the time. "C’mon Max. You know how this is supposed to play out. Up until now, you didn’t have any options, but fate has stepped in."

"What do you mean fate has stepped in?"

"Max, it’s just like on Felicity!" She exclaimed in frustration. "You have to go."

"I am not Felicity Maria."

"Yes, you are," Maria snapped. "And Liz is Ben. You so know it. You two are meant to be together. He wrote something amazing in her yearbook and she followed him to New York and they got together. Now it’s your turn."

"You’re leaving out about four seasons of angst there," I said, although I could feel my heart starting to beat more quickly. Could I really do this? Could I really follow Liz to New York, based solely on what she had written in my yearbook?

I can’t be with any human. Why on Earth would I do this?

Because this isn’t just any human, a small voice in the back of my head reminded me. It’s Liz.

That night I asked my parents if there was any possible way they might be able to send both Izzy and I to New York. I swear, I am not Felicity. As I mentioned above, there were other factors involved in why I might have changed my mind.

But, being completely honest, there weren’t. I am Felicity. But I will never admit it to Maria.

Mom and Dad were actually a little mad when they heard that maybe the only reason that I had not accepted Manhattan was because I thought they couldn’t afford it. It wasn’t of course - I had fully intended all along to go to UNM and live with Michael - but they didn’t need to know that. What can I say? After so many years of keeping my big secret, I’m a really good liar. I’m not proud of it, but there it is.

I admit it. I played the "I can’t take it anymore. I’m giving up my dreams out of guilt. Please help me Mom and Dad" card. I’m a jerk. I offer up no excuses, other than that you still don’t know what Liz wrote in my yearbook.

"We’re the parents here Max," my dad informed me. "You don’t need to try and protect us. That’s our job. If you wanted to go to Manhattan, you should have told us. It may be too late son. They’ll have set their freshman class based on who accepted already."

"I know," I said. And I did know. This was a crap-shoot at best. "But can we at least try? I’ll get a job and you can have all the money from the UFO Center."

Isn’t that irony? I really did work there though - at the local Crash of ’47 Museum. I was there all through high school and I continued there full time all through the summer. My boss Milton even told me I could come back next summer. I guess aliens make good employees. Not that he knows I’m an alien. He would be ecstatic with joy if he ever found out. But, I digress.

"We can try," my mom said reassuringly, sending my dad a warning look. My mom understands me better than my dad. I’m pretty sure she thinks that I have never fully accepted that their love comes unconditionally. I haven’t actually. I have a feeling that if my parents know that Iz and I are aliens, the limits of parental love would be seriously tested. Mom thinks it stems from the fact that we were abandoned at such a young age though. I hate playing on her emotions like I did, making her feel that maybe I had chosen UNM because I hadn’t wanted to feel any more beholden to them. I still feel terrible about it.

But they are my parents. If I couldn’t turn to them, where else could I turn?

So Dad called up an old law school buddy of his, who happens to be dean of the law school at Manhattan now, to see if there was anything he could do. Even though I am certainly not planning on law school, the guy managed to pull a few strings and that’s why I am now entering Reddit Hall, a dorm at Manhattan University, heading towards my room.

As I mentioned before, I’ve been here for two days, although I’ve barely spent any of it at my own college. Isabel has monopolized my time, not only through excuses, but also through guilt. She knows that I didn’t come to New York for her (Maria - again. She is my curse it would seem.), isn’t really that mad about it, but is certainly using it to her advantage. In the end, she is really glad I’m here, so it will all work out.

Now, at this point, you may be wondering what happened to Michael. He was the one person I was worried about in this whole scenario. I was his ticket out of Roswell after all. So, when I told him what I was planning, I was a bit worried about how he might take it.

Strangely, he didn’t seem at all pissed off - not even disappointed. "That’s okay Maxwell. I’ll just keep working at the Crashdown. I can move out here on my own. It’ll be cheaper than Las Cruces anyway."

I was so relieved, I didn’t even question it at the time. However, Isabel then told me on the plane that she had the feeling that maybe Michael had his own reasons for not necessarily being in any great hurry to leave Roswell.

"You can’t mean Maria?" I asked, disbelieving, although I too had witnessed the advancement of their relationship over the summer. I mean, it wasn’t much of a progression, but he could be counted to speak to her on occasion without having to be kicked under the table first. For Michael, that’s practically a marriage proposal.

"I do mean Maria," Isabel replied, satisfied. "With her around, Michael will never be lonely."

For the first time, I realized that a large part of Isabel’s reluctance to leave Michael and I hadn’t been about her own fear, although that had certainly played into it. She had really, truly been worried about both of us.

And, yet…Michael and Maria?

"Isabel, you know we can’t…"

She interrupted me. "And why exactly can’t we Max? You know what I finally realized, once I just admitted to myself that I really wanted to go to Columbia?"

"What?" I stared at her, unsure who this new calm, confident Isabel was. I mean, she was showing me the person the rest of the world saw all the time.

"We need to start living as if we’re here for the long-haul. We have no idea if anyone’s ever coming back for us. As far as we know, everyone at home thinks we’re all dead. Earth has to be our home now. We need to make a future for ourselves." She looked at me, her dark eyes piercing. "And I think you’ve come to exactly the same conclusion. Admit it. That’s why you’re coming to New York."

I didn’t reply at the time, but I know she’s right. I followed Liz Parker to New York because what she wrote in my yearbook had given me hope that maybe she wasn’t as oblivious to me over the four years we spent as lab partners as I thought she was. And, really, why would I do that unless I thought that maybe something could happen between us?

I want a future here just as much as Isabel. Even Michael seems to be accepting that maybe it’s time to let go of what came before the crash. Maybe that’s what coming to New York is about for me too, in the end. Yes, Liz was the impetus. But I think this is going to be good for me in other ways too. It’s time to really live my life on this planet. That I can now do it with the seeming support of my sister and best friend makes it all the more liberating.

And terrifying. Because, in the end, hiding for all these years really has been kind of easy. Not putting myself on the line, just existing, hiding behind the tree…None of it has been very difficult, nor frightening.

Which is another reason that what Liz wrote in my yearbook impressed me so much. She put herself out there. The least I could do was meet her halfway.

Okay, so I’m guessing that by now that you’re a little curious about exactly what it was that Liz wrote. Unfortunately, I am going to be forced to keep you in suspense a while longer. Because, while I was fully intending to return to my room to reread it for the three thousandth time, I am now standing in front of my door, staring at the "Do Not Disturb" sign my room-mate has plastered there.

For the third time in two days, Sean has brought a girl back to the dorm and is expecting me to find somewhere else to hang out in the mean-time. Since I’ve only been here for two nights, this is pretty impressive. And, also, extremely annoying.

Now, as stated above, I haven’t spent much time in my dorm. But this is not all entirely due to my sister. My room-mate has also proven to be extremely…Well, I’ll politely say that he seems to be very popular with the ladies. I should have had a clue that this was coming on the day we met, being as the first thing he suggested was that we set some ground rules about girls and "private time," as he termed it.

I just thought he was being polite. I have been proven wrong over the past forty-eight hours. Apparently Sean has the intention of sleeping with every girl on campus before the end of our first month here. Since I know that he intends to rush a fraternity, I’m hoping that soon he’ll be able to take his extracurricular activities elsewhere.

Of course, this doesn’t help me at the moment, when all I really want to do is flop down on my bed, stare at my ceiling and wonder for the ten thousandth time what Liz is going to say when we finally cross each other’s path. I’m nervous about it, needless to say. I think she knows I’m here - there is no way that Maria will not have told her at least that - but what is she thinking about it? After all, she is the one who wrote what she wrote in my yearbook.

Sighing, I turn and head down the hall towards the common room. There are a few people sprawled around on the couches, watching The Simpsons. It’s really amazing how people have already settled into a routine and we all just got here. But the same crowd is here every night. At least they’re watching something I like at the moment. Last night it was three straight hours of Cops. Since the entire goal of my life up to this point has been to stay off the authorities’ radar at all costs, you can understand why I’m not particularly fond of that one.

Anyway, I don’t even really get a chance to settle in, because as soon as I plunk myself down into a dingy easy chair, I hear someone say my name. "Max!"

I look over to the door in surprise. Alex Whitman is standing there, a huge grin on his face. He is coming towards me quickly, as though he’s really pleased to see me. "I found you," he says as he throws himself down in the chair next to mine.

I don’t know Alex very well. All I know about him I’ve learned through his association with Liz and my ability to absorb information about people through her. I know that he’s very smart, a huge computer nut, but also plays bass in a band back in Roswell. We have talked a couple of times over the years, mostly just "hi’s" in the hallway at school, but I’ve always liked him. This is, partly, due to the fact that anyone Liz is so close to must be a great person and so I was bound to like him by default (Hey! I never said I didn’t like Kyle. I was jealous of him, but I didn’t not like him….Okay, fine. I hate him. But he is the exception.) But Alex is a nice guy. I probably would have liked him anyway.

I knew that he was going to be here - Maria told Isabel of course, who passed the information onto me - but I never expected to run into him so soon. But I am not displeased. Not at all.

"I saw your name on one of the mailboxes downstairs," Alex continues. "So you live here too huh? I can’t believe we’re on the same floor. What are the odds?"

"Yeah," is all I say. It is kind of weird, but is it wrong that all I want to ask Alex at the moment is "So, have you seen Liz?"

It’s wrong. But let’s call a spade a spade. He has the information I want.

Alex seems oblivious to my abrupt response however. He is still talking and is - bless him - actually proceeding to tell me exactly what I want to know. "Liz lives here too. She’s on the tenth floor."

"Really?" My heart leaps for joy at the news that I am likely going to see Liz all the time. Luck is on my side apparently.

Now if I can only work up the courage to talk to her. Since I am having trouble talking to Alex at the moment, this does not bode well for my future. I determine that I should make more of an effort.

He looks around. "It’s kind of weird that you haven’t run into her. She came to find you. I had to go to the Admin building and see about my scholarship and she came back here. We both moved in today, which is why we haven’t tried to find you sooner. Liz was staying at her aunt’s apartment and I went to stay with her for a couple of days, until my stuff got here. I shipped it up."

This last part completely escapes my attention however. Because I have stopped listening after "She came to find you."

She came to find me? My heart is pounding against my rib-cage in a way that is not entirely comfortable.

"I just got back," I say, struggling to stay focused on the conversation, since Alex is starting to eye me in concern. I wonder if I look as weird as I feel. "I was helping Isabel move some furniture."

I blink when Alex’s face lights up. "Ah, yes. The lovely Isabel. How is your sister? How’s Columbia?" He sounds kind of strangely breathless by the end of it.

"She’s fine," I reply, wondering at the expression on his face. "She’s coming over for dinner tomorrow night." I tilt my head, examining him curiously. Well, there’s only one way to confirm my present suspicion. "You could come…" And, then, because I’m an ass. "You and Liz, I mean."

Alex’s eyes widen slightly at the invitation. Why do I have the feeling that his heart is beating as quickly at the mention of my sister as mine was at the mention of Liz only moments ago?

Well, I know that look. I’ve seen it in my mirror and in all reflective surfaces over the past twelve years anytime I’ve had any sort of encounter with Liz Parker. If anyone understands a crush, it’s me.

So Alex has a thing for my sister. While inherently grossed out, I can’t say that I’m upset about this. I’m just surprised that I never noticed before. Maria’s thing for Michael was so obvious…Maybe I missed Alex completely because of it?

Whatever. I know that, unfortunately, Isabel probably won’t give him the time of day, but I can at least give the guy one night in her exalted presence (can you hear the sarcasm? I pity the poor fool.). Alex seems a little uncertain though, when he says, "I’ll ask Liz. But it sounds good," he adds quickly. "If she can’t, I’ll be there I mean." He looks around again. "I wonder where she got to," he says. "I told her I’d meet her here after she said hi to you. We’re going to get our ID pictures." He looks at me. "Do you want to come?"

Do I? "Sure." I already have my ID picture of course, but who cares?

Alex gets up. "Maybe she’s downstairs," he suggests. "But I’ll call her cell first. Can I use the phone in your room?"

I sigh, climbing to my feet as well. "I’d say yes of course, but my room-mate…" I shake my head. "He’s got a guest."

Alex snorts. "Nice. Well, at least that’s semi-normal. My room-mate is a complete freak. He has an ant colony for God’s sake. Who has an ant colony in college?"

"Sean’s normal," I acknowledge, "But it also means I haven’t been able to get into my room until three in the morning for the past two nights," I tell him as we make our way down the corridor. "Maybe we can ask the R.A. if we can use hers."

Alex nods. "Ah, Tess. Yeah, she’ll let us. She’s a good egg that one."

"I haven’t met her yet," I admit.

"I’m surprised," Alex says. "She came and said hi to me not five minutes after I got here."

I roll my eyes. "You don’t have a sister demanding your attention 24/7."

"I almost do," Alex reminds me. He looks at me with something bordering on relief. "Maybe you can move Liz’s furniture for her. She doesn’t like where her bed is. She asked me, but…" He shrugs. "It’s heavy."

"I can help," I say quickly. Why does the mere prospect of moving furniture for Liz make me want to pass out with anticipation? I can almost hear Isabel’s disgusted snort. I am hopeless.

Well, if I can’t talk to her, at least I can do physical labor for her. There’s that.

We have stopped in front of a door with a hand-printed sign that says "Resident Advisor." Alex knocks.

I hear a pleasant voice through the door. "Come in."

Alex pushes open the door and sticks his head in. "Hi Tess. I was wondering if I could use your phone? Mine isn’t hooked up yet."

"Sure," says the still faceless voice. The door is pulled open and I am abruptly meeting a pair of the bluest eyes I have ever seen. "Oh." My eyes drop to a pair of pink lips. "Hi."

"This is Max," Alex says offhandedly, already moving past her into the room. "He’s in 285."

"Oh," says the pretty blonde before me. I stare at her. Is she blushing? I think she’s blushing. How strange. "Hi Max. I’ve been trying to find you for the past two days."

"I’ve been out," I say. "Sorry."

"That’s okay," she says. She is definitely blushing. Because her cheeks are now even pinker than they were before. She seems to get a hold of herself though because she puts out her hand. "I’m Tess, your R.A."

"So I’ve been told," I say. I smile at her. I like her already. You know how some people just have nice written all over them? Tess is like that. For once, I find that I am not entirely tongue-tied either. Maybe it’s because she seems to be the one who is tongue-tied. It puts me at ease. "Where are you from?"

"New York originally," Tess replies, after taking a deep breath. Why is this girl so nervous? I don’t get it. It must be Alex. Does she have a thing for him? I look at him. He is talking into the phone, obviously having gotten a hold of Liz. My heart starts to beat more quickly again.

I realize that Tess is still talking. "But my dad and I moved around a lot."

I focus back on her. "I’m from Roswell, New Mexico," I tell her, so that we don’t fall into an awkward silence waiting for Alex to finish.

"I know," Tess says. I blink. She quickly adds, "I have stuff about all the people on this floor."

"Oh, well…" I shrug.

"So, do you know any aliens?" She asks. I stare at her. She blushes again. "I mean, I’ve heard about Roswell and everything…" She trails off. "Sorry. It was a joke." She looks like she wants to sink into the floor.

I didn’t mean to make her feel like crap of course. But she just surprised me by springing the A-word on me like that. I should be used to it by now. I mean, I am from Roswell. It happens all the time. But, for some reason, I still jump every time someone asks that stupid question.

Of course, it’s not so stupid. But they all think it is. I told you my life is weird.

"I don’t know any aliens," I tell her, hoping to put her at ease. "But I do work at the UFO Museum there. We get some crazy tourists in there that sometimes make me wonder."

Tess laughs, relaxing a bit. I feel relieved. I know better than anyone how it is to feel stupid around someone you like, if she does indeed like Alex. I’m glad that I managed to make her feel better.

Speaking of Alex, he has hung up and is shaking his head.

"What?" I ask, my stomach dropping slightly. Is something wrong with Liz?

"You’re never going to believe this," Alex tells me. "Liz has been sitting in your room talking to your room-mate this whole time."

What? What? Liz has been alone with Sean all this time? And Sean has the Do Not Disturb sign on the door. He expressly told me that he would only ever use it if he was making time with a girl.

I turn on my heel and hurry towards my room, just in time to see the door open and Liz come out into the hallway. She is laughing, turns to say something to my now hated room-mate, who is following her out.

I am in earshot within seconds. Just in time to hear, "…tomorrow night at seven then?" coming from my beloved’s lips. Directed at Sean! My male slut of a room-mate!

Oh dear God. No!

Posted: **Tue Oct 05, 2004 8:23 pm**

Part 2

~Liz~

September 5, 2002

I’m Liz Parker and this is my journal for Dr. Leith’s Creative Connections writing class. She told us that she expects us to write in it at least once a week. She also said that she won’t ever read it, so we can write about whatever we want. When someone asked how she planned to grade it, she told us to simply highlight the dates and she’ll flip through it at the end of the semester to make sure there is one entry for every week. If we do, and if the entries are at least a page long, we get an "A." The only rule is that we can’t write the same word over and over again. She said this like someone had actually tried that once. It doesn’t surprise me. This whole college thing can be a bit overwhelming.

Of course, the fact that she says she won’t read it all seems a little suspicious to me. I mean, if I were her, I wouldn’t be able to resist. All those private thoughts just staring up at me? I’d die of curiosity. But, I believe her. I trust her too, so I’m going to be as honest as I can be in this thing.

Anyway, even if she does read this, she’s not going to find much of interest - at least to her. I know somehow that in ten years, my problems won’t seen nearly as dire as they do now, or as interesting, even to me, but that doesn’t stop me from feeling right now that they are important. I’m glad that she gave us this assignment actually. She said it had something to do with the best writing coming from everyday occurrences, that someday we might actually get a story out of something that happened to us in our first semester at Manhattan University, but, I can’t see that ever being true for me.

All I know is that it’s nice to have someone to talk to, even if it’s a piece of lined paper.

I say this as though I think I can’t call up Maria or Alex to spill my guts. I can, of course. They’ll always be there for me, but I find that we’ve all been a bit distant since the end of high school, even if Alex lives just downstairs now. I think they’re both still a little shocked by what I did this summer. Even I know that ditching Harvard and running off to New York so wasn’t me. Or at least the me they thought they knew. They wanted an explanation when I did it and they still want an explanation now. I don’t have an explanation to give them that won’t hurt their feelings, even though it really has nothing to do with them. They’ll both think it does. I know this, because I tried explaining things to my parents, and they, of course, blame themselves. They think that they put too much pressure on me and that I finally cracked.

How can I explain that not going to Harvard has everything to do with escaping Roswell, that’s it not about escaping them, but that, in some ways, they are Roswell?

Because, deep down, I know that my parents are more angry and disappointed than guilty. They just know that parents are supposed to feel like they did something wrong when their honour student daughter goes completely crazy and leaves her dream school after six weeks.

Of course, it was never my dream. But they have never understood that. I didn’t even really understand it myself until I got to Harvard.

I wonder if my dad’s ever going to forgive me? They came up here last week, in a last attempt to get me to change my mind. Why can’t they understand that they didn’t have anything to do with me leaving Boston? That it was, quite simply, a matter of me finally taking my life into my own hands?

I wasn’t in Cambridge long before I knew absolutely for sure that Harvard wasn’t for me. I had guessed long before that, but being there…I just felt trapped. It was exactly how I had felt for the last year of high school in Roswell actually. I could see my life laid out in front of me like a long, straight road. I spent the first three nights in my dorm room there staring at the ceiling, wondering how I had ended up in this position. How had I become such a boring, predictable person? But, I still wasn’t strong enough to do anything about it. I went to all my classes and I pretended to like the people I met there. I called my parents once a week, telling them that I loved it, and, yet, with every passing day I felt more like I was drowning in my own boredom and misery.

The only thing that kept me going for my first month in Boston was my creative writing elective with Dr. Leith. I absolutely loved that class, and it was there that I finally figured out that I had the power to change my life.

It all started with an assignment Dr. Leith gave us two weeks in. It was to write a short story about something we had done in the last year that had taken "guts." She didn’t want it to be first person. We had to make up a character and write it as though it was a fictional story, concentrating on why the protagonist had made the decision to take the chance they did in the story.

At first, the assignment almost killed me. Because, as I’ve stated before, I’ve never been known for taking chances. This was why I was in such a state then, after all. I was the dutiful daughter, following the line my parents had drawn for me from the day of my birth. I mean, it was almost like Dr. Leith had read my mind in order to find the one assignment I absolutely could not do.

It was when I was talking to Maria on the phone one night, hiding how miserable I was, as usual, and listening to her chatter about what was happening in Roswell, that it hit me. I did have a story to tell.

What I said to Max Evans in his yearbook. That was my story. Because being that honest with someone had taken a lot of courage. And, so I wrote the story, and I got an "A," and it was then that I knew that I had to feel that rush again. That I had to make decisions in my life that might not be right for other people, but that were bestt for me.

I only have one life and I have to live it the way I feel is right.

And, for me, leaving Roswell, New Mexico behind included leaving Harvard. Because, until I started making my own decisions, it would be like I was still stuck behind the counter in the Crashdown, waiting for me parents to direct my next move. Waiting for them to live the life through me that they wish they’d lived themselves.

It’s not going to happen.

I’m Liz Parker and Roswell is my past. New York is my future and that’s the way it is has to be right now.

I close my new journal with a sigh. My room-mate, Charlotte, looks up from her desk, where she is writing an email to her boyfriend in Pittsburgh.

"What’s wrong?" She asks. "I thought you said that keeping a journal was going to be fun?"

"Well, I was sadly mistaken," I tell her, flopping back against the pillows on my bed. I frown when I realize that I still can’t see out my window. I’m going to have to call Alex to come back and move this bed again. Even though I love New York so far, I do need to be able to see the sky from my bed. You can take the girl out of the desert, but it’s going to take some time to take the desert out of the girl. I may not want to miss Roswell, but I do, even if it’s just a little bit. "It just reminded me that I still haven’t talked to Max."

I have told Charlotte all about Max and how worried I am that he somehow misinterpreted what I wrote in his yearbook. It was nice to have an impartial bystander to ask for advice. After all, I couldn’t exactly talk to Alex about this. How could I explain what I was feeling about Max when he could just as easily twist my concern and think that I meant the same thing about him?

Don’t get me wrong. I love that Alex is here. At first, I was worried about it, but he was the one who accepted Manhattan first. It wasn’t like I had anything to say about it. And, just like sort of missing the desert sky of my hometown, I have to admit that it is nice to have a familiar face around.

Just not to talk about Max. Besides, somehow, in the space of twenty-four hours, Max and Alex seem to have become best friends. After all, didn’t Alex’s room-mate tell me they were out together earlier when I called. Alex would side with Max, even if Max doesn’t have a side, particularly as I can tell already that he thinks I’m making another weird decision about my love life. I saw the expression on his face when it became clear that I was going on a date with Max’s room-mate.

But that’s getting ahead of myself. I’ll get back to that later.

Okay, so the yearbook. By now, you’re probably all dying to know what it said. I mean, I certainly made a big enough deal about it last May. I didn’t mean for it to turn into the production it did, but somehow it just happened. But, in order to be able to judge what’s coming next for yourselves, I better tell you want I said. I put so much thought into it at the time, I still pretty much have it memorized.

Max,

So, I know it’s weird that I’ve taken so long to write this. All I know is that I have some things to say to you and I wanted to make entirely sure that they come out right.

First of all, I wanted to thank you for four great years. This sounds like I’m breaking up with your or something, but you know what I mean. I really had fun being your lab partner. I also wanted to let you know that I appreciate you putting up with all my babbling. I’m not usually like that, but you are easy to talk to, and you always pretended to be interested, although I’m sure that half the time you weren’t.

I wanted to tell you that I regret something. I wish that I had taken the opportunity to get to know you better while forcing you to get to know me. I wanted to apologize for being so self-absorbed, and for completely neglecting to find out who you are. I wanted to tell you that, really, in some ways, you are the person who knows me best in the whole world and I kind of wish that you could say the same about me. In my heart, I feel like I know that you are a great person, but I wish that I knew that for sure. And I’m sorry that I don’t. I’m sorry that, now, I won’t ever get that chance.

Anyway, I’m going to miss you Max. I know I’m going to. But, in some ways, I still don’t really know why. I wish that could be different.

Good luck at UNM! Although, we both know you couldn’t possibly find a better lab partner there. J

Liz Parker

It was only later, while I was writing the story for Professor Leith that it even crossed my mind that it might have freaked Max out. I mean, when I wrote it, I didn’t expect to see him again for a long time - if ever. He was going to UNM, I was going north and that’s all there was to it. I knew that I might run into him around town on holidays and stuff, but it wasn’t like Max was ever going to say anything about it. Because when had Max Evans ever responded to any of the crazy things I said to him? How was the yearbook any different?

But, then, when I thought about it, I realized that he might have thought it was. And when Maria told me that he was coming here to go to school, I got a really bad feeling that it definitely was.

How can I explain what I was trying to do when I wrote in his yearbook? It’s difficult, because, while the whole thing sort of seems to be about him, in some ways, it wasn’t. I was more writing about regret, about things that I was going to miss about Roswell, but also about things that I regretted not doing in high school - things that I had a feeling that I was going to regret not doing in college too.

My new mantra is "No Regrets." But back then, I was still full of them.

So, it wasn’t really about Max at all. I told you before that I can be a little self-absorbed - I even mentioned it in the yearbook for Pete’s sake! - but I really never thought that Max might be as affected by it as he maybe was.

But, see, I still don’t even know that for sure. It was why I had gone down to see him yesterday. I wanted to say ‘hi’, but I also wanted it all out in the open, to make sure that we were both on the same page. That it was just a coincidence that we had both so completely changed our college plans at the last minute and that his decision to come here had nothing to do with me.

Now, this all might sound like I’m sorry that Max is here. I’m not. I like Max. I’m hoping that we can be friends. I even told you before that I thought he was cute and that I was intrigued by him.

But Max Evans is Roswell, New Mexico. He can fit into my new life, just like Alex can, but it can’t be as anything other than friends.

And if that makes me a bitch, so be it. For the first time in my life, I am living on my terms. I can’t worry about other people. I just can’t.

Which is all well and good. But I am worried about Max. Which is why I need to talk to him.

It’s really hard to "live your life" with "no regrets" when you’re constantly worried about hurting other people’s feelings. Damn my conscience!

Anyway, I was nervous when I knocked on the door my R.A. had told me was his. Because, what was I going to do if he said he had come here because of me? I was going to feel terrible.

Of course, if he told me had not come here because of me, I was going to be horribly humiliated, but I was willing to risk it. I had to know for sure.

So, as soon as the door opened, I started talking, just so I couldn’t chicken out. "Hi! You aren’t here because of what I wrote in your…" I was looking at the floor as I started, staring at Max’s shoes, but gradually raised my eyes. I had to look at him. I needed to see the first reaction in his expression to see if he was lying to me or not. Not that Max has ever been known for allowing his feelings to appear on his face. But maybe this time I could shock him into showing me something.

Maybe I should have started with the stripper in Vegas story. That would have taken him off guard.

It didn’t matter anyway though. All I can do is thank God that I raised my eyes, because it wasn’t Max who answered the door.

"Oh." I shut my mouth abruptly, taking a step backwards. "You’re not Max."

The guy standing there looked amused. "Clearly."

I felt my eyes widen as I met his blue eyes. Wow. I mean, wow. Even now remembering the first time I laid eyes on him, it sends a charge through my entire body.

"I’m Sean Covington," he told me, sticking out his hand. "And you would be?"

"Liz," I replied, taking it and feeling the first flash of electricity run through me. "Liz Parker." I think my mouth was hanging open before I managed to speak. Embarrassing, yes. But you haven’t seen this guy. He is extremely good-looking. Very tall, with short blond hair, that you can just tell would curl if he let it grow out a bit. And he sort of has that bad-boy vibe happening. Do you know the one I mean? Like somehow you just know he cannot be good for you - not at all - but you don’t care one little bit.

This is college. If I can’t have a crazy fling with someone who is nowhere near my type, where else can I do it? Not to mention, I’m changing my whole life remember? My usual type - the Kyle Valentis of the world…Well, it’s time to try something new.

Not that I was expecting to have a crazy fling with Sean. Not then anyway.

"You’re here to see Max?" Sean asked. "So that’s where he’s been for the past couple of days. If I’d known that he’d been hiding someone like you…" He trailed off meaningfully. I could feel my face reddening.

Normally this kind of frank perusal from a guy would have pissed me off. But, for some reason, from Sean, it was just sexy.

"Oh no!" I exclaimed. He raised his eyebrows, and I quickly added. "We’re just friends. From high school." I stopped, took a deep breath, barely refraining from rolling my eyes at my own behavior. "I mean, we went to high school together," I told him, enunciating each word carefully so that I didn’t sound like anymore of a freak. "I came to say hi."

"Well, he’s not here," Sean repeated. "But you’re welcome to come in and wait if you want."

"Ummm…" I bit my lip. I met his eyes. He seemed to be almost daring me to enter the room. "Okay," I said, raising my chin and beginning to feel a little annoyed.

I was also intrigued. I’ll admit that much. I had never - not in my entire life - felt so attracted to someone at first sight. Particularly someone I knew I should despise because he was such a horrible, college fraternity guy cliché.

Well, who can explain hormones?

Not to mention, when have I ever had the chance to meet someone and be interested like that? I come from Roswell, New Mexico. I’ve known everyone there since the day I was born. It wasn’t like love at first sight was even possible. I don’t remember the first time I met anyone. I’ve just always known them.

Anyway, I know you all hate him. I hated him too - at first. And, yet, somehow, I couldn’t help myself from being charmed.

Because, once I was in that room, things changed. While I was waiting for Max, we talked, and I realized that my first impression of him had been a bit off. His magnetism is undeniable, but he really is a nice guy too. He told me all about where he was from (Grand Forks, North Dakota) and why he’s in New York (to become a doctor) and how he sometimes comes off as a little forward when he meets new people because he’s nervous, especially here, where no one understands what it’s like to be from a small town.

The thought that I made him nervous was surprising to me, but I admit that it made him even more attractive.

We talked about why I was in New York. He was the first person, besides Charlotte, that I told the real reason why I had come - to escape my hometown’s expectations, which he definitely understood, although it was then that he asked me, "If you’re here to escape Roswell, then why is the first person you’ve come to see from there?"

I tried to explain…About how Max and I didn’t really know each other well in high school, but that I might have led him on in some way. I didn’t want to go into too much detail. I mean, he didn’t need to know the real reason that Max had come, if it was indeed because of me.

"So you like him then?" Sean finally asked flat-out. "But you don’t want him to know you like him?"

"Of course I like him," I replied. "And he can know that. But not…I mean…"

"You’re not dating?" He asked again.

"No," I replied. I realized that my heart was beating very quickly. I couldn’t tell if it was because I wanted Sean to ask me out or because I felt guilty telling Max’s room-mate that we weren’t dating. Which is crazy. Because we’re not.

"You’re not interested in dating him?"

That I definitely knew the answer to. "He’s from Roswell. Of course not."

I looked at him, could see that he was examining me closely, as though trying to see right through me. Finally, he smiled. "So you’ll go out with me then?"

Now, I do realize that going out with Sean might end up being awkward. I did realize it at the time too, although I said "yes" without really thinking about it first. How can I explain what it was like?

Sean is like a force of nature. One that I was just incapable of resisting. I felt like I knew him by the time I left that room an hour later. The thought of not going out with him was painful. And it was why I was in New York anyway - to meet new people and to make a new life for myself.

But what if Max had come to New York because of me? How was I going to tell him that I just couldn’t go there with him, while in the same breath have to tell him that I was going to date his room-mate instead?

I knew it was wrong. I still know it’s wrong. And, yet, I couldn’t help myself. I was saying "yes" and by the time I thought of all this, it was too late.

In the end, I guess Max probably got the picture anyway. Because I ran into him and Alex right after that.

"Look who I found Lizzie!" Alex called from the far end of the hallway as I left Sean’s room. But I had already come to a halt and was staring at Max.

I felt my heart stop for one strange moment. But, as it slowly started to pound again, making me feel a little nauseous, I realized almost immediately that there was no way that Max could have come to Manhattan for me. He wasn’t even looking at me. Instead, he was looking past me at Sean, an unreadable expression on his face.

Well, there was nothing new in that.

"I thought you said you’d take that down when I could come in," he said stiffly to his room-mate. I turned my head to see that he was indicating a "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door-knob. I frowned. That hadn’t been there when I’d knocked the first time.

I looked at Sean, who didn’t seem at all flustered. "I forgot," he replied. "Sorry."

Max did not appear to believe him, but he let it drop. He finally turned his dark eyes on me and said, "Hi Liz."

"Hi Max," I replied in a small voice. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what he was thinking. Why did I feel guilty? I had nothing to be guilty about. Because, even if Max had come here because of me, how was that my fault? I hadn’t meant for him to take my yearbook entry as anything more than my usual blather. And, yet, for some reason I still said, "I was looking for you."

"So I heard," he said. He did not smile. He turned, looked back at Alex, who was watching us all with a slight frown on his face. "Listen Alex, I’m not going to be able to go with you after all. I just remembered I need to go talk to a professor for a class I want to take. It’s full and I need to get permission."

"Sure," Alex replied easily, although he was now looking directly at me, his eyebrows raised. "We’re still on for dinner tomorrow night?"

"Yeah," Max shrugged. "I’ll talk to Isabel." He looked at me again, finally smiled slightly. "I’ll see you Liz." He went into their room and shut the door firmly behind him.

"Bye Max," I said to the closed door, wondering what the hell had just happened here.

All I knew after that moment was that it was even more imperative that I talk to Max and straighten things out about the yearbook. Which is what I am sitting thinking about now.

"So why don’t you go now?" Charlotte asks. "I mean, isn’t it best to just get it over with?"

"I tried to call him earlier," I tell her. "He’s not there. He’s out with Alex."

Charlotte leans back against her desk chair, looking at me assessingly.

"What?" I demand. I’ve only known this girl for a couple of days, but I’m already beginning to recognize her expressions. It’s one of the things I like about her. She reminds me of Maria that way.

"You seem really, really worried about what this Max guy is thinking," she tells me. "For not wanting anything to happen with him, I mean."

I sigh. "I told you, I just don’t want to hurt his feelings. He’s a really great guy. I’ve known him forever."

"But if you don’t know whether he came here for you or not, then how can you be sure that you’ve hurt his feelings?"

"I can’t," I reply impatiently. "That’s why I want to talk to him!"

"But won’t that just embarrass him?" Charlotte asks logically. "I mean, didn’t you tell me that he’s really shy? Either way too. What if he didn’t come here because of you? That’s going to be just as embarrassing for him as it is for you…that you thought that."

"Maybe," I admit. "He didn’t seem upset yesterday," I add. "He just shut the door."

"So maybe you should just leave it alone," Charlotte suggests. "Or maybe you should ask yourself why you’re so desperate to find out why he came here. For someone who wants nothing to do with anything that reminds them of home, you seem to be obsessing Liz."

Okay, why did I ever tell her that? It was a stupid thing to say anyway. Because, it isn’t like I’m not glad to have Alex around. And Max. I can pretend in my journal as much as I want. I’m still a big chicken at heart. Sure, I’ve made some decisions that people might not have expected, but I’m glad to have some people from home here too.

Baby steps. By Christmas, I won’t need any of them anymore.

The phone rings abruptly, making me jump. I look at Charlotte, who reaches to answer it. "Hello? Oh, hi Alex. Yeah, she’s here." She tosses the portable phone at me and turns back to her email.

"Hey Lizzie," Alex says after my hello. "I’m just calling to make sure you haven’t changed your mind about dinner." Alex asked me to go out tonight with he, Max and Isabel. I know that he’s absolutely petrified about having to make conversation with Isabel Evans. Since Max likely won’t be much help, if his past mute track record is any indication, I can sort of see why he’s freaking.

But maybe Max will be different around his sister. Maybe he’ll be different here in general. Maybe he’ll try to talk. Maybe he’s taking my yearbook entry to heart.

Maybe he came here to be different too.

Maybe I should go find out.

"C’mon Bug," Alex coaxes, using his old nick-name for me, short for LizzieBug - don’t ask, it’s a long story - as though he can tell that I’m waffling. "That Sean guy is sleazy. Come and hang out with us."

"What do you mean he’s sleazy?" I demand, slightly annoyed. "You only met him for two minutes Alex!"

"Yeah, but I hear things," he says darkly.

I frown. "What things?"

"Well, that he’s had a different girl in that room every night since he got here," Alex says in a rush. "I mean, c’mon Lizzie. You don’t really want to get mixed up with a guy like that, do you?"

"Who told you this Alex?"

There’s a long pause. "Does it matter?"

"Yes, it matters!"

"Fine. Max told me. And he would know."

I feel a slight twinge, although I was expecting it. I wonder why. Am I disappointed to hear this about Sean, or am I disappointed that Max didn’t try and warn me himself? "Well, people can change Alex."

"In the space of twenty-four hours?" Alex demands incredulously.

"Probably not," I allow. "But I have to give him a chance. I mean, I said I’d go out with him."

"Well, why don’t you both come out with us then?" Alex suggests. "That way we’ll know you’re safe."

"We?"

"Me and you," Alex elaborates patiently, although my eyes narrow suspiciously.

I think about this for a moment. If I go out with Isabel, Max and Alex, I might be able to kill two birds with one stone. First, if Sean is a total scumbag, I’ll be with people I trust. Secondly, maybe I’ll finally get a chance to talk to Max privately, so that I can stop worrying that my every move is somehow affecting him.

Have I said before that I realize that I’m a bit self-absorbed? That I know that Max probably hasn’t thought about me at all since we ran into each other yesterday? Don’t worry. I do know this. I’m just trying to be honest about how I’m feeling here though.

I’m all tied up in knots. So much for getting away from Roswell. I feel like I’ve somehow fallen into a gigantic soap opera filled with people from my hometown. And, yet, I’m in New York. If I want to go out with a new guy, shouldn’t I be allowed to? Shouldn’t I be able to judge him on my own and not worry about what other people thing about him already?

The only way to resolve this once and for all is to talk to Max.

"Okay," I say. "Where you are you meeting them?"

Posted: **Wed Oct 06, 2004 9:53 pm**

Author's Note: Yeah, I admit it. Liz's logic is faulty in this fic. lol But, as Kippy said, it's also realistic for an eighteen year old who wants to leave her "old" life behind. Don't worry though. All will change soon enough. Because we all already know that Max Evans isn't just "boring old Roswell." And deep down Liz knows it too.

Part 3

~Max~

"So, tell me about Liz Parker."

Until Sean’s ugly mug suddenly appears over me, I have been lying on my bed, glaring at my ceiling, wondering how the hell I could possibly be so unlucky. How did I manage to so completely miss my chance with Liz in such a short amount of time? I am also wondering how I ended up with the most annoying room-mate on the face of this planet (or any other as far as I’m concerned). I clench my jaw and stare up at Sean, wondering what it is that makes him so attractive to the opposite sex. Particularly as the very sight of his face makes me want to punch him.

Or blast him.

At times like these, it would be very nice to have Michael’s gift. Or something equally deadly anyway. Healing shmealing. I’m in the mood for some good-old fashioned alien death ray eyes right about now.

What is it about this slime bucket that has made Liz agree to go out with him?

I sit up, swing my legs over the side of the bed and get to my feet. "Maybe you should tell me about Liz Parker," I reply, trying to keep my voice steady. "What was up with that sign? You told me you’d only put that up when I couldn’t come in. She came to see me!"

Sean blinks, takes a step back. This is likely the first time I have actually strung more than two sentences together in his presence, so his surprise is not unwarranted. Mostly he has just talked at me, telling me how things are going to be in our room. Since I am generally an agreeable person, and since I have rarely had the opportunity to interact with anyone on a regular basis other than Isabel and Michael, up until this point I have stayed carefully, anonymously cooperative with my room-mate. I was willing to just go with the flow.

Until Liz. Until he had to go and make a move on Liz. Of course he did. The bastard.

"I told you, I forgot it was there," Sean tells me mildly. He narrows his eyes. "You have a thing for her, don’t you?"

I don’t say anything to that, just snap, "Liz is a nice girl. If you’re planning to just screw her and then toss her aside, you’ve got another thing coming. She’s not like that. And I won’t allow it either."

Sean raises an eyebrow. "I have absolutely no intention of doing any such thing. She is nice. I like her." He continues to watch me carefully. "But if you like her too, then I’ll call it off. Seriously, man. Just say the word."

"Why would you do that?" I demand. "You barely know me."

"I have to live with you all year," Sean replies. "There are other fish in the sea."

I eye him suspiciously. I don’t trust him. Why would he do this for me? Not to mention, in order for him to call of his date with Liz, I’m going to have to tell him that she is important to me.

I repeat, I do not trust him. And, so, I do not want him to know anything about me, particularly my most cherished secret.

Not to mention, what reason would he give Liz for breaking it off that wouldn’t totally embarrass me? Because it would be completely humiliating now. The fact that she even accepted his offer at all means that the last thing I want is for Liz to even suspect that I came here because of her.

I do realize that it’s not really Sean I’m angry with. It’s myself. Because the fact that Liz has agreed to go on a date with Sean can mean only one thing: she has absolutely no interest in me. In spite of what I thought she was trying to tell me in my yearbook, Liz has no intention of dating me.

It hurts more than I ever could have imagined. I mean, I’ve been telling myself that my hopes aren’t high, that she might not have meant anything by writing that she wished that she’d gotten to know me better (yes, I have it memorized…so sue me!), by writing that not doing so was a regret in her life. That’s what I’ve been telling myself - over and over again.

Boy. When I lie to myself, I tell whoppers, don’t I? Of [/i]course[/i] my hopes were high.

I came here because of Liz. Because I thought she was trying to tell me that she has secretly yearned for me all these years too.

Crap. I am Felicity.

I really did think that I was going to come here and Liz and I were going to see each other again and it would be perfect. It would be everything I have always wished for. I am realizing with embarrassment that I sort of even had this weird little fantasy that our eyes would meet across a crowded room, or down a long hallway, and she’d just walk up and kiss me and it would be destiny, fate, and we would spend the rest of our lives living happily ever after.

All because of one yearbook entry. One yearbook entry that, now that I’m looking at it from Liz’s point of view, suddenly doesn’t seem nearly as momentous.

Jeez. Not only am I Felicity, I’m pretty damn sad, because this exact same thing happened to Felicity too! She followed Ben to New York and he couldn’t even remember her name for God’s sake. Am, or am I not, the WB junkie? I should have known this was going to happen.

Okay, well, at least Liz knows my name. But, still. I should have been prepared.

Why did I ever listen to Maria Deluca? I should have listened to Michael. He’s told me forever that I act like a girl when it comes to Liz Parker - that he wonders if I didn’t accidentally get some female DNA in my pod because my mooning was just not how guys are supposed to behave.

Guys are supposed to act like Sean. We’re supposed to try and get every girl on the planet into bed and then we’re supposed to ditch them in the morning. Because apparently this is what girls want.

How did I miss this? I have a sister. You’d think I’d know these things! Maybe it’s a human thing. Maybe I missed it by not gestating in a real womb. But that can’t be right either. Because Michael knows.

Nope. Obviously there’s just something wrong with me.

On the other hand, I don’t want to be like those other guys. I’m not like them Realistically, I know that Michael would never treat women the way Sean does either. He may be a guy, but he’s not an ass.

Because, even if Liz doesn’t want to date me, the last thing I want is for her to go out with Sean. As I have stated - I do not trust him. I’ve only known him for two days, but it is long enough for me to have decided that I wouldn’t want him to date Isabel. When I meet new guys, they generally fall into two camps: those I would allow my sister to date and those I would not. By the way, Isabel doesn’t know this. She would kick my ass if she did, but, what can I say? She’s my sister.

Sean fell squarely into the latter category upon his first use of the "Do Not Disturb" sign. I don’t really judge guys I wouldn’t want Isabel to go out with… Okay, yes I do. I can’t help it if I was raised to respect women. I don’t generally have time for guys who treat women like play things and who don’t treat them well. Sean is one of those guys.

If he’s being truthful that he won’t date Liz if I’m interested in her, shouldn’t I say so, if only to protect her?

But, yet again, I wonder what he will tell her. Not to mention, what right do I have to interfere? None whatsoever. She certainly isn’t my sister, nor is she my girlfriend. I’m not even sure that we’re friends. Didn’t Liz tell me in my yearbook that she feels like she barely knows me?

I have no right to tell her anything about Sean.

Maybe he was just sowing his wild oats? Maybe he does really like Liz and he’ll treat her well. He’s not really a bad guy. He’s been perfectly friendly to me and I think he’s sincere about offering to break the date. Isn’t that the sign of a nice person?

He failed the Isabel dateworthiness test though. And I don’t care if it’s none of my business. It’s Liz.

"Max?" Sean is staring at me like he’s beginning to wonder if I’m half-nuts. It really shouldn’t be taking me this long to tell him to back off.

"What did you talk about?" I ask abruptly. I need more information.

Sean looks momentarily uncomfortable, but he says, "Just about where we’re from and stuff like that."

I can tell that he wants to say more. "What stuff?" I demand.

"Listen, I’m dead serious that I won’t date her if you don’t want me too," he says in a rush. "But I have to tell you why she came to see you. She wanted to make sure that you hadn’t come to Manhattan thinking that anything was going to happen between you. I just want to warn you."

I don’t believe him. He’s just trying to get out of his offer now. Why would Liz tell Sean this? Why him, of all people? "I don’t believe you," I say firmly.

"Max, I’m not lying here. It’s true," Sean says sadly. "She said that she really likes you, but that she thinks you might have gotten the wrong idea about something. She didn’t specify what, but she seemed to think that she might have led you on in some way." He shrugs. "How could I know that if she hadn’t said it?" He looks at me closely. "Because it’s true, isn’t it? You did come here because of her?"

I don’t hear this last part though. At the words "might have led you on in some way," my entire heart has cracked down the middle. I kid you not. I’m reflecting on the fact that I’ve always thought that the phrase "a broken heart" was merely a metaphor, but I’m here to tell you it’s not. It is really possible. And, so I’m not listening, nor can I answer him.

I turn on my heel and stalk to the door, not saying a single word.

I need air - desperately. I am in the elevator before I even think about going outside, randomly stab at the buttons. I just want to be away from his smug face.

I stumble out a few minutes later, glad that no one else has joined me in the lift. I really don’t want to have to explain why I’m about to burst into tears. I mean, in spite of the fact that I am Felicity apparently, I am also still a guy. Or at least I pretend to be. Because, as stated above, I don’t think that I really am. Because I just don’t get being a guy if it means being like Sean Covington.

It takes me a moment to realize that I have ended up on the roof. I look around in surprise, feel a flash of wonder in spite of myself. The entire city is spread out below, lights just beginning to wink on in the buildings surrounding me.

It’s enough to take my breath away again - but this time in a good way. I’m from Roswell, New Mexico after all. This kind of hugeness is all new to me.

I make my way to the edge, stuffing my hands into my pockets, forcing myself to take deep, even breaths. I am not used to being this upset. But, then, I’m also not used to emotionally investing in anything. And it wasn’t until my hopes were completely shot down that I even understood how completely I had convinced myself that by coming to New York, somehow, some way, all my dreams about Liz Parker were about to come true.

I stare down at the cars below, mesmerized. All those people…More in this small section of the city than in Roswell itself. It’s unbelievable and it’s also enough to make me realize that, in the grand scheme of things, my problems are pretty insignificant. But they sure don’t feel like it at the moment.

It hurts like hell, being disappointed like this. I almost can’t believe how much it hurts. I guess that was one positive thing about never getting involved with anyone back in Roswell. Hiding behind the tree hasn’t just been good for keeping my otherworldly secret. It has also been very effective at helping me to avoid feeling like this.

I believe Sean. I hate him, but I believe him, because why would he lie about this? How could he even lie? His words make perfect sense with what did happen. Liz did write something that could have been interpreted either way. I just chose to interpret it the wrong way. And Liz suspects that. She knows.

I wonder briefly if Maria told her. I can’t believe it though. I know she’s Liz’s best friend, but I just don’t think she would have. She’s not like that.

What am I going to do?

The answer comes to me so quickly, I blink.

I can’t stay here. Not now. I just can’t. There is now no reason for me to be in New York at all.

I’m going home.

***

I stay on the roof for a while after making my decision, trying to figure out how I am going to break the news to Isabel. She’s going to be seriously ticked. I know she doesn’t need me, but I don’t think she knows it yet. But I can deal with Isabel after I find out how to withdraw from all my classes. I wonder if I’m going to be the first person in history to drop out of Manhattan University before the semester even begins.

I dread going back to my room. The mere thought of laying eyes on Sean again is enough to make me want to puke, but I have no choice. I have packing to do.

When I get there, I thrust the door open, ignoring the "Do Not Disturb" sign that still hangs from the knob (bastard!) Fortunately, Sean isn’t there. I hurry to my closet, pull down my suitcase and toss it on the bed. I start pulling shirts off their hangers, throwing them onto the bed too.

"What are you doing?"

It’s only when I hear the voice that I realize that I haven’t closed my door. I turn, stare at Tess, the R.A. I met earlier. She watches as I throw another shirt towards my suitcase.

"I’m packing," I reply.

"Why?"

"Because I’m leaving."

She comes further into the room, shifting from one foot to the other. "Is everything okay? Did something happen at home?"

"No," I say. I am staring down at the mess I’ve made on my bed, wondering how the hell I fit all of this into my suitcase in the first place. How many black sweaters do I have anyway?

"You do realize that you’re threatening my job?" She sounds nervous, like she’s not quite comfortable joking. Because I can tell that’s what she’s trying to do.

I look at her blankly. "What?"

"How is it going to look if one of my advisees leaves school before it even starts?" She perches gingerly on the chair near my desk. "Maybe…" She swallows. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," I reply firmly. "I made a mistake. So I’m going home."

"What makes you think you made a mistake? Are you homesick?"

I frown. Could this girl be any more annoying? "Listen, I know you’re just trying to help, but this is really none of your business. I’m going home. That’s all."

"Does this have something to do with that girl?"

I have started to fold my clothes, my movements jerky, angry, but I pause when she says this. Am I really that obvious?

"What girl?"

"That Liz," Tess replies. "The one Alex introduced me too after you slammed your door in her face." She leans forward. "Was she your girlfriend?"

Only in my own deluded fantasies. "No."

"It is her though, isn’t it?"

I look at her. I can see the openness on her face, the willingness to listen, and suddenly I feel an overwhelming urge to tell her everything.

And, so, after pushing a bunch of my clothes off the bed and onto the floor, I do.

It takes a really long time, mainly because I’m not used to unloading myself on anyone like this, so I start off slow. Even with Michael and Isabel, I don’t really confide in them. They confide in me. They have enough to worry about, what with keeping our secret. Michael has his whole foster father issue and Isabel has her own problems. They don’t need to know about my constant inner turmoil on top of that.

But Tess is very easy to talk to. She listens to the whole story of my obsession with Liz Parker, how I have loved her for years, how I’ve always been too shy (or alien…because I’m not really shy. I’m just careful, but I don’t tell her that part of course) to do anything about it, how I followed her here because of what she wrote in my yearbook, and how she is now about to go out on a date with my Casanova of a room-mate.

It feels like a three thousand pound weight has been lifted off my shoulders with every word I say to her. She shakes her head sympathetically in all the right places, frowns when she’s supposed to, and sides with me after reading the yearbook entry.

"I can see why you misinterpreted this," she assures me, stroking her fingers across Liz’s handwriting. "You shouldn’t feel bad about it."

"I feel like a total moron," I admit, running my hands through my hair in frustration.

"You shouldn’t," Tess repeats. "It’s perfectly understandable. But I don’t think you should leave. I think you should play it cool. Don’t let her know that she’s the reason you came here."

"I wasn’t planning on it," I mutter. "Trust me."

"I’m sure," Tess says, sounding sympathetic again. "No, what I meant was, if you leave, you’ll be proving it to her. That you came here because of her. Right now, she doesn’t know that for sure. I know it’s upsetting, that it doesn’t look like you’re going to get together with her, but I can’t believe that you really just came here because of her. I mean, you obviously applied here. You got in. Some small part of you must have wanted to get out Roswell even before Liz wrote what she wrote. You’re in New York, Max. You have your whole life ahead of you. You made your decision to come here based on a girl, but maybe it was fate."

I frown. "What do you mean?"

"You told me that you really have no idea what you want to do, right?"

"Right."

"Well, what better place to find out than here?" She asks. "I mean, stay. I really believe that everything in life happens for a reason. And I can’t believe that you really came all this way just because of a girl."

Liz isn’t just a girl. Maybe Tess doesn’t really understand. But how can she? She doesn’t know what Liz Parker really represents to me - how she is everything that is normal and pure and good. How if someone like Liz could love me, then maybe I’m not as a big a freak as I have always felt like.

She can’t understand that loving Liz makes me feel human. That if I stop, there will be nothing normal about me at all.

"I can’t just watch her date Sean," I say. "I can’t do it, Tess. But I can’t tell him not to either because then she’ll know I did."

"So, tell her the truth yourself," Tess suggests. "Tell her what Sean really is."

"How can I do that?" I ask. "I’ve only known him for two days. Maybe he just went a little crazy at first, being away from home. He’s from a small town too after all. Maybe he’s really a nice guy. I don’t have any claim on her. I can’t interfere in her life like that."

"She interfered in yours," Tess reminds me. "By writing what she did, she changed your path. And I think, that even if things don’t turn out exactly as you envisioned them, you like New York. This was the right place for you. Don’t you think so?"

"I don’t know." And I don’t. But I remember feeling comfortable up on the roof, interested in the city spread out before me. I do like New York I realize. Maybe it’s because it’s so big and it’s easier for someone like me to get lost in it. Maybe it’s because there are people I’ve seen on the sidewalk who are even weirder than I am, in spite of the fact that they’re entirely human.

Maybe it’s because I’m finally ready to accept that my life is going to be lived out on this planet and, like Isabel said on the plane, it's time for all of us to actually start living.

"Now you have the chance to make sure that she doesn’t take the wrong one," Tess is saying. "You need to tell her, Max. As a woman, I’m guarantee you, I’d want to know. If you are going to be friends with her, you need to tell her. It’s what friends do."

"She didn’t know how I feel about her though. She didn’t know that she was affecting my path. It’s not the same thing at all."

Tess shrugs. "All I know is that I think it’s a mistake for you to leave. Your sister’s here, you’re enrolled in one of the best schools in the country, and the girl you have a crush on wants to be your friend. She wants to get to know you better, Max. Who’s to say that things won’t work out in the end anyway? I think you should talk to her. And I think you should stay."

I stare at her, amazed that this girl has been able to change my mind so completely.

Because it has been changed. I am beginning to realize that, deep down, I don’t want to leave New York. I think back again to that feeling of awe I had on the roof, not more than an hour ago. This city fascinates me, calls to me in a way I don’t understand.

In a way that has nothing at all to do with Liz Parker.

I can’t stay here and watch her date Sean though. I just can not do it. But I also don’t think that I’m strong enough to tell her why myself without giving away my true feelings.

She cannot suspect how I feel about her. Because Tess is right. Liz wants to be friends with me. She wants to get to know me better. In spite of how I misinterpreted what she really meant, that is the truth. And, for me, being friends with Liz Parker - real friends, not just lab partners - is better than nothing.

But I also can’t not warn her about Sean.

Luckily for me, I have another option.

I stand up. "Thanks, Tess. You’ve given me some stuff to think about."

She gets up too, smiles. "So, you’re not leaving?"

"No," I assure her, a bit embarrassed now that I even considered such a rash move. I mean, what the hell would I have told my parents? "I’ve already made one life-altering decision based on Liz Parker. I don’t think I better jump into another one. Not yet, anyway."

"Good," Tess says. "It’ll work out, Max. Trust me. You’re doing the right thing."

"I hope so," I reply, still not entirely convinced, but sure that I do have to at least give Manhattan a chance.

Tess leaves a few minutes later. Mere moments after that, I follow her out and head straight to Alex’s door down the hall. I grimace slightly at the racket that is emerging from behind it. I knock anyway.

Alex pulls the door open almost immediately. He has his bass guitar over his shoulder and his expression is apologetic. "Sorry, am I bothering…" He trails off. "Oh, hey, Max. C’mon in." He glances over his shoulder. "This is Edwin, by the way."

I nod at Alex’s room-mate, who is sitting at his desk, a fish tank in front of him. He is staring intently into it, ignoring me completely. I look at Alex questioningly. He simply rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "Weirdo," he mouths. "What’s up?" He then asks aloud.

I glance once more at Edwin, slightly perplexed, then say, "Listen, Liz is going on a date with Sean, right?"

"I think so," Alex replies. "Why?"

"Well, I told you that I haven’t been able to get into my room because of him…"

Alex narrows his eyes. "And?"

"What I didn’t tell you was that he was with a different girl all three times."

Alex scowls. "Are you telling me that he’s just trying to get her into bed?"

"I don’t know," I admit. "But I do think Liz has a right to know this before she goes out with him - if only so she can be on her guard."

Alex nods pensively. "You’re right." He then looks at me again. "Why don’t you just tell her yourself?"

I grimace. "I don’t really feel like I know her well enough to tell her what to do."

"Liz doesn’t let anyone tell her what to do," Alex sighs. "But I can see where you’re coming from." He tilts his head slightly, eyeing me. "Let’s me honest with each other here though, Max. You have ulterior motives for not wanting her to go out with Sean."

I swallow. I could deny it, but what would be the point? "I may like Liz, but that’s not the reason that I’m telling you this. I just think she needs to know. If she decides to still go out with him, I’ll keep my mouth shut and never mention it again."

Alex shakes his head, sympathetic. "I still think you should tell her. She won’t believe me."

"Why not?"

"I barely know him. I’m going to have to tell her where I got the info."

I sigh. "Well, if you have to, you have my permission to tell her. But I just don’t feel right about telling her myself."

"I have an even better idea," Alex says. He has clearly been thinking. "I’m going to invite her out to dinner with us tomorrow. She can bring him and we can get a read on the guy - see what his real intentions are. If she doesn’t agree to that, then I’ll tell her about the other girls."

I stare at him. Is he really asking me to sit through Liz and Sean’s date? But, on the other hand, it would give me the chance to judge Sean’s real character on my own too.

I decide not to think about the fact that it will also give me the chance to judge if Liz is really interested in him. I shouldn’t be thinking about that. Because I know for a fact that she is in no way interested in me anyway.

No, this is entirely about Sean. It has to be. She will date other people. I’m sure there is some guy out there nice enough for Liz. She did pretty well with Kyle after all. It’s Sean I want to check out, Sean I want to make sure is good enough.

As I mentioned before, I’m pretty good at lying to myself. Because I actually make myself believe this until we’re all out on Liz and Sean’s date the next night.

***

"I told her," Alex mutters to me as he slides into the booth across the table. We’re at a Mexican place near Manhattan called Carlos and Murphy’s. Alex and I were actually here earlier. I ran into him in the Student Union and since we were both starved, we came here to eat. We liked it so much, we decided to come back. The spicy food appeals to my alien palate and Alex says that it reminds him of home.

Isabel stood to allow him entrance to the booth, as she likes to sit on the end. Better to adjourn to the Ladies Room for make-up touch-ups. My sister is entirely predictable. Anyway, it’s during the seconds between her greeting Alex warmly (very warmly for Isabel. What is that about?) and her sitting back down, that he tells me this.

I know that Alex is talking about Liz - that he had to tell her about Sean’s nocturnal activities of the last few days. Which means that she wasn’t willing to come with us before that. I feel my heart drop slightly.

"Where’s Liz?" Isabel asks Alex. Up to this point my sister is unaware that Liz is bringing a date. I’ve been scared to tell her. She’ll interfere. I know she will. I don’t want to give her time to think about ways to be mean to Liz. Because she will be. The instant she knows how this entire Sean mess is eating me up inside, she’ll turn on her. But if she doesn’t have time to think about it, at least we might have a few minutes of peace before she thinks of something suitably rude to say. Isabel is not naturally a bitch, in spite of what some people back in Roswell might tell you. She does have to think about it most of the time.

It’s not fair to Liz. She didn’t ask for me to follow her here and she didn’t ask me to be in love with her. But my sister is predictable, as stated. When either Michael or I are hurt, she is a tigress. Even against people who have no idea they’ve even done anything.

"She’s on her way," Alex replies. "I just talked to her. She and Sean are…."

He trails off at the look that crosses my sister’s face. "Sean?" She asks pleasantly, looking at me. Too pleasantly, might I add.

"Yes, Isabel," I say calmly. "My room-mate Sean is joining us."

Her brow wrinkles. "Really? I thought you hated him."

Alex snorts. I sigh. I knew I shouldn’t have confirmed my long-term crush on Liz to him last night. But, he knew anyway. Still, this dinner is shaping up to be a disaster. "He’s okay," I mumble, looking down at the table so that I can’t meet Isabel’s suspicious gaze.

She lets it go for the moment as the waitress arrives with our menus. "Hey guys!"

I look up in surprise. It’s Tess. "You work here?" I ask, dumbfounded.

"Yup," Tess replies. "My dad didn’t want me to come to school in New York so I pay for most of it myself. He only covers tuition."

"You make enough?" Alex asks, sounding surprised.

"Most of the time," Tess says, laughing slightly. "Sometimes I have to exist on peanut butter, when I get tired of eating here. I don’t buy the meal plan." She looks at Isabel. "Hi! I’m Tess."

"Oh, sorry," I say, reddening slightly. "This is my sister, Isabel. Isabel, Tess, our R.A."

My sister doesn’t say anything. I look at her, surprised. Since when is Isabel at a loss for words? She is staring at Tess, a slight frown on her face. Finally, when she seems to be aware of Tess waiting for a hello and of me glaring at her, she says, "Sorry. Have we met before? You seem familiar."

I look back at Tess, whose smile has faltered slightly. "I do?" She finally says, giggling a little. It’s high-pitched, not the laugh I’ve heard from her before, so I can tell that Isabel has made her uncomfortable for some reason. "I guess I must just have one of those faces. I mean, trust me, I’ve never been to Roswell."

Isabel shrugs. "Okay. Well, it’s nice to meet you." The tone of her voice indicates that the exact opposite is true. I notice Alex looking at her strangely, like he’s not sure what happened to the warm girl from moments ago.

"You too," Tess replies. She looks back at me, a little paler than she was. I sometimes forget how intimidating Isabel is when she wants to be, because she can’t overawe me. I wonder what it is about Tess that made my sister pull out the ice queen act like that. Because there is no question she did. I mentally remind myself to ask her about it later. "So, what can I get you people to drink?"

I order my usual cherry cola, Alex orders an orange soda on the rocks and Isabel orders a Diet Coke. Just as Tess moves to leave, she turns back and says under her breath, "Liz and Sean are here." I realize that she doesn’t know that we’re all together. I feel a pang of affection for her that she is trying to warn me. I’ve barely known this girl for twenty-four hours, but I feel already that we’re going to be good friends.

Anyway, sure enough, Liz and Sean have arrived. I feel my heart start to beat more quickly in my chest, as it typically does in Liz Parker’s presence. She is moving through the tables in our direction, looking so beautiful it momentarily takes my breath away. Her dark hair is hanging loose against her black leather jacket, swinging gracefully around her shoulders, and, not for the first time, I have a brief vision of that hair falling into my face as she leans over to kiss me.

God. I need to get a grip. I am a sad, sad alien.

"Hey everyone," Liz says. She slides into the booth next to me. I tense up instantly. I haven’t been this close to her since our last bio lab back at West Roswell, and my heart just about can’t take it. I wonder if it’s possible to die of cardiac arrest at eighteen. "Hi Isabel," she greets my sister. "It’s great to see you!"

"Hi Liz," Isabel says, eyeing Sean, a slightly disdainful expression on her face. Uh oh. Damn. She’s onto them already. It has to be the way that Sean is helping Liz out of her jacket. He is being a perfect gentleman. The bastard. It has resulted in it being too much to hope that Isabel would think it was a coincidence that they came here together. "And you must be Sean."

He grins, pulling a chair out from another table and flopping into it at the end of ours. "I am. Max’s sister, I presume?"

Isabel narrows her gaze, glances at me, briefly at Liz, then replies, "You presume correctly." She says nothing else, simply sits back, folds her arms, and stares at me. Oh dear.

I look at Liz, who is looking at Isabel, a bemused expression on her face.

"So, dinner!" Alex says, too heartily. I look at him and his eyes widen as they meet mine. I just shake my head. "Max and I had the burritos for lunch. They’re awesome."

"You came here for lunch?" Liz asks, sounding amused. She turns her head, looks at the condiments at the end of the table. "I should have known." She reaches past me and for one, brief moment, her long hair brushes against the skin on my arm. I bless my lucky stars that I wore short sleeves. After I have managed to get a hold of myself, I realize that she has picked up the bottle of Tabasco sitting near the salt and pepper. "Just making sure there’s enough in here for you, Max," she teases, shaking it in my face.

I stare at her. "What?"

Liz smiles, glances at Sean. " Max is really into spicy food," she tells him. "My dad practically had to mortgage the Crashdown to keep him in Tabasco."

I can’t help it. I’m pleased that she remembers. She might not think that she knows me very well, but she obviously found some things memorable.

"So, you must have eaten there a lot, huh, Max?" This comes from Sean. I look at him. I don’t quite understand his tone, but he sounds a bit too knowing for comfort. I’ve avoided him all day, not wanting him to ask again whether I wanted him to call off his date. I may have said yes and then I would have ended up in an even more awkward position than the one in which I now find myself.

"We all did," Isabel says frostily. "Roswell’s a small town. It’s not like we had a lot of choice."

I sigh, glare at my sister. "I liked it," I say hurriedly, hoping Isabel hasn’t hurt Liz’s feelings.

"Yeah, I’ve heard," Sean says, smiling at Liz. "I know the feeling." She smiles back and my heart drops again.

"Here we go," Tess says, coming up to the table just then, balancing a tray with our drinks. She sees that Sean and Liz have joined us and looks at bit surprised. "You guys are all together?"

"Yup," I say, staring at her warningly. She raises an eyebrow, but simply says, "Nice to see you both. What can I get you?"

And, somehow, we manage to get through dinner. Alex, Sean and Liz work at keeping the conversation light and fun. Isabel even bends slightly and laughs at a few of Alex’s jokes. I don’t talk very much, too aware of Liz sitting beside me, and also too aware of how well Liz and Sean are getting along. He is funny, charming, and continues to be a perfect gentleman. Of course, I don’t know what I expected. Did I think he was going to try and jump her at the table? While this would have helped my case, it was highly unlikely.

He does touch her far too often though. I even see him glancing at me once when he does it, to see if it bothers me. I stare back at him, stony-faced. He frowns, but doesn’t move his hand off Liz’s knee. Nor does she make him move it.

Finally, when Tess comes to leave the bill on the table, Sean turns to Liz and says, "If we want to make that movie, we should get going." He looks at me. "Thanks for inviting us, Evans. This was fun." Am I the only one who hears the amused note in his voice? Glancing at Tess, who is still standing there, I can see that I’m not. She seems concerned, looks at me meaningfully. I don’t quite understand what she’s trying to tell me.

The expression on Tess’s face…I think she wants me to find a way to be alone with Liz - to tell her what kind of guy Sean really is. She doesn’t trust him either.

It suddenly dawns on me what is going on here. Sean never had any intention of breaking off his date with Liz. He’s enjoying this. He is as ass. This is all a complete act. The grin that crosses his face when I stare at him, my eyes wide with understanding, only confirms it.

I set my jaw, look at Liz. I can’t let her go off with him. I just can’t. She is too innocent. She just doesn’t understand what this guy intends to do to her. For some reason, he’s decided to torture me, and he’s using her to do it.

She is standing, he’s helping her to put her jacket back on, and I can’t move. I cannot do anything. I am frozen.

She won’t believe me.

Alex already told her what I know about him and she went out with him anyway. She’s going to continue the date because he hasn’t done anything to show that he’s in this for only one thing. He’s only tipped his cards to me. I don’t understand why, but this guy is out to get me.

"Bye everyone," Liz says. Tess is standing behind her. She moves her head, stares at me around her shoulder, like she can’t believe I’m not moving. I can’t believe it either. But I don’t.

I can’t do anything. I am too big a coward. I can’t bear the thought of having Liz know why I came here - that I came to New York because of her. And if I try and get her alone now, try to interfere in what, to her, must seem like a fairly standard date, she’s going to know. She’ll know for sure how I feel about her.

How can I make her see that I am beginning to realize that my room-mate is evil? She’ll never understand, because she’ll think my concern stems from my feelings for her. It will make her uncomfortable, she’ll feel sorry for me, and, then, she’ll start to avoid me. Because that’s what people do when other people they’re not interested in show their true feelings. That’s just the way things are.

If she avoids me, I’ll have absolutely no way to protect her. At least this way, I can make sure that Sean treats her half way decently. If he doesn’t, then I can kill him. But I can’t do anything until he actually hurts her.

The thought of him hurting her…Maybe I should just kill him now and get it over with.

But, I can’t. I need to know who this guy is, what his problem with me is.

And, until I do, there is nothing I can do except watch them leave together.

***

"He seemed okay to me," Alex says on the subway platform. We are returning from Columbia, where we’ve just dropped Isabel off at her dorm. "Don’t you think?"

I don’t say anything, just shrug. He talks about my sister the whole way back to our own dorm at Manhattan. "Do you think that she’ll say yes if I ask her out on my own?" He finally asks.

I force myself to think about it. Isabel did seem to enjoy herself tonight. She even behaved herself towards Liz, which must have indicated that she didn’t want to come across as too big a bitch. It must have been for Alex’s benefit. She certainly has no qualms about being a bitch in front of me. "I think she probably would," I tell him. I hope she does. Alex is the kind of guy I want my sister to date after all. He’s a nice guy.

He’s nothing like Sean.

I am relieved to see that the "Do Not Disturb" sign has failed to appear on our doorknob. I shouldn’t really be surprised. The movie Liz and Sean went to probably isn’t even over yet, but I was still worried about it. I don’t enter my room though. Instead, I go back up to the roof and stare out over the city for a while, thinking about Sean, wondering what it is about him that makes me so nervous.

This is about more than the fact that he’s a ladies’ man. He is out to get me for some reason and I need to figure out why. It can’t just be because we’re so different, can it? He can’t be dating Liz just because he enjoys seeing my pain? Are there really humans so cruel?

I haven’t figured anything out by the time I head back down to my room, feeling cold. It sometimes snows in Roswell, but it’s never as chilly there in September as it is here. I’m going to have to start wearing a jacket. I take the stairs this time, trying to warm myself up a bit.

When I reach the tenth floor, I pause.

Liz’s floor.

I wonder if I should go knock on her door, make sure she made it back safely. Because, if they’re not back by now - glancing at my watch, I see that it’s after one - I don’t know what I’ll do. I need to know that she’s safe - at least for tonight. I’ll worry about the rest of it tomorrow.

I open the door leading to the tenth floor, hurry to the room I know is hers. I haven’t been here yet, but Alex told me because we’re supposed to meet up here tomorrow to help Liz move her bed. I knock immediately, before I lose my nerve. A strange voice comes from behind the door. Liz’s room-mate. "Just a minute!"

The door opens and I’m staring at a pretty redhead. One who is wearing pajamas. One I have clearly woken. "Um, hi. Sorry. Is Liz here?"

She narrows her eyes. "Who are you?"

"Oh, sorry. I’m Max." My hands are in my pockets. Why, oh why, didn’t I remember that I was going to be bothering her room-mate if Liz wasn’t home yet?

Her eyes soften. "Oh. Max." She sounds like it might be familiar. "She came home. She’s just in the bathroom showering." She indicates down the hallway towards the communal washrooms. "She should be back any minute."

In fact, any minute is right now, because Liz is walking towards us, wearing a pair of pajamas bottoms, a red tank top and a towel on her head. I see her eyes widen at the sight of me. I don’t blame her. It’s practically the middle of the night.

"Hey," she says when she reaches us. She glances at her room-mate. The girl looks back at her, obviously trying to say something to her with her eyes. I briefly wonder if they’ve talked about me. Is this a good thing or a bad thing? "What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you," I say quickly. Because I realize now that I’m crazy to think I can bear to let Liz date Sean. If I have to tell her the truth about how I feel to make her believe me, I will. I’ll tell her that it has nothing to do with me, but with her, that I’m worried about her.

I don’t care what I have to tell her. I just want her to stay away from him.

Liz hands her shower stuff to her room-mate, keeping a brush in her hand. "Okay. Let’s go to the common room."

"Sorry I woke you up…" I trail off because I realize I don’t know the room-mate’s name.

"Charlotte," she says. "It’s okay. I wasn’t really asleep."

I follow Liz, who hasn’t said anything else. She enters the common room, which is, surprisingly, empty, the lights dim because of it. The common room on our floor always has people in it, even in the middle of the night. She turns and regards me, her dark eyes serious in the slight light. "What’s going on Max?"

"I…" I swallow. I have to talk dammit! This might be Liz, in whose presence I seem incapable of stringing together three words, but I have to warn her. "I just wanted to make sure you’d made it back all right," I manage to say in a rush.

"Sure," she says. She pulls the towel off her head, begins to run the brush through her long dark locks. I stare at her, my knees weakening with desire. I very briefly wonder what she would do if I just grab her and kiss her. Could I make her feel something - anything - for me by doing so?

But, of course, I don’t. Instead I say, "Didn’t Alex tell you about Sean?"

"About the other girls you mean?" Liz asks. She sighs. "He told me."

"And it doesn’t bug you?"

"Sean told me himself," Liz admits. "He said that he didn’t really do anything with them. He was homesick, so he brought them back to your room to talk."

"You believe that?" I ask, beginning to feel a little annoyed. Why was she being so deliberately blind?

Liz smiles slightly. "No. I’m not an idiot, Max. But I like him. He’s been okay with me. I can’t hold his past behavior against him."

"Why not?" I demand.

"Because it’s not fair. Everyone needs a chance to change. I think he really likes me."

I don’t have anything to say to that. She doesn’t care about what happened before her. He’s treating her well and that’s all that matters to her. She’s clearly insane.

She clearly really likes him.

I realize that she is watching me quietly. "Max, why do you care anyway?" She finally asks.

"Because he’s my room-mate," I say. "I’m the one who got evicted from our room three times so that he could make time with those girls. I don’t want you to be just another notch on his bed-post."

She frowns slightly. "Do you really think I’d do that? I mean, on the first date?"

"No," I say quickly. "Of course not. I just don’t trust him."

There is a long pause, then she says, in a rush, like it’s difficult for her. "Max, is this about what I wrote in your yearbook?"

And, just like that, it’s all out in the open. She confirms what I’ve been suspecting all along. She knows how I feel about her.

But I lie anyway. "No," I say. "I wouldn’t want him going out with any girl I knew," I tell her. Which is the truth. But not really. There is no other girl, except for maybe Isabel, who would make me interfere like this.

"Max, I need to talk to you about what I wrote," Liz says, obviously not believing me.

"Liz, what you wrote was nice and all, but this isn’t about that. I’m just worried about you. This isn’t Roswell. You have to be careful! We barely know that guy. And what I do know, I don’t like." I sound very firm. Almost like I’m talking to Isabel. Whoa. I actually sound pretty convincing. I almost believe me.

"So, you didn’t come here because of it?" She asks. She sounds kind of weird. I don’t think it’s disappointment exactly, more just surprise.

"Who would do that?" I ask. "I mean, really, Liz. That would be crazy - to change your entire life plan because of someone else. Don’t you think so?" Well, I’m just being truthful. It is crazy. We all know I’m insane by now. "Did you think I thought we’d get together or something?" Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. Might as well throw her completely off.

She shifts slightly, obviously a bit embarrassed. "You must think I’m pretty full of myself."

"No," I say. "I can understand where you might have gotten the wrong idea. I did change my mind at the last minute. I swear it wasn’t about you though."

"Really?" I am listening to the tone of her voice, hoping to hear even the slightest bit of disappointment, but she just sounds relieved.

I’m doing the right thing. I am avoiding complete humiliation. And, because I am now in full-on defensive mode, I take it one step too far. "Yeah. I swear. In fact, I’m actually interested in someone else."

She blinks at this. What the hell am I talking about? Where did that come from? "You are? Who?" She is beginning to sound suspicious. I don’t blame her. I mean, when have I had time? I frantically search my mind for any female name. I’ll find the person to fit it later.

And, suddenly, inspiration hits. I actually do know a girl! "You know her. Tess."

"Your R.A.?" She is staring at me like she’s trying to see right into my head, to tell if I’m lying or not.

"Yeah." I am a complete loser. I am so dead, I can actually see my life passing before my eyes.

"Do you think she’s interested in you?" Liz asks, sounding interested.

"I don’t know," I say quickly. "I’m not very good with girls." Clearly. That is such an understatement, it’s ridiculous.

"She’d be crazy not to be," Liz tells me. She smiles at me. "But this is so great Max! I was really worried. I didn’t want you to have the wrong idea."

"No wrong idea here." Nope. Just Lies-R-Us.

"I meant everything I said, Max," she says. "I do want to get to know you better. I want us to be friends."

"We are friends, Liz," I tell her. "That’s why I’m here. I’m worried about you." Back to trying to convince her not to date Sean. Maybe she’ll be more susceptible now that she’s not worried that I’m trying to win her over for myself.

Liz is quiet for a moment, then she asks, "So you really don’t want me to date him?"

"It’s not about what I want," I assure her. "It’s about you being careful. I’m not going to tell you not to go out with him." But if she’d listen to me, I would. "I just wanted to make sure that you were going into it with all the information you need."

She smiles slightly. "I’ll be careful. I promise." She pauses, then adds, "People can change you know. I mean, look at us."

"What do you mean?" I have no idea what she’s talking about.

"I’m not at Harvard. I’ve actually made my own decision about what I want to do with my life. That’s pretty amazing."

I nod, unsure what she wants me to say.

"And, look at you. You’re actually talking to me. I’d say that’s a pretty major change."

I feel my face reddening slightly. "I used to talk to you," I mutter.

"To ask me to pass you the Bunsen burner, yes," she agrees. "But not much else. Why do you think I don’t know you?" I raise my eyes, meet her gaze. My heart starts to thunder in my chest. God. She is just so beautiful. How have I gotten myself into this mess? "I like the new you, Max. I’m glad that you think we’re friends. I was never sure."

"I’ve always been your friend, Liz."

She reaches out and takes me hand. I stare down at where we are connected in amazement. She’s touching me! On purpose. Maybe this "friends" thing won’t be so bad after all. "And now I know it," she says. "Thank you for worrying about me. But I’m going to be fine. I promise. In fact, I’m going to be so fine, I’m going to help you get together with Tess. Then we’ll both be blissfully happy together."

I stare at her, helpless. This has gone from bad, to worse. She is so confident, so sure. How can I convince her? But I can tell already that she won’t be convinced. I do not have the gift of prophecy, but I do know Liz Parker. Watching her for close to ten years has taught me pretty much everything about her. She is determined to do this, is determined to learn the truth about Sean the hard way.

But, at least if we’re friends - which she clearly thinks we are - I can be there to help her pick up the pieces when this all goes completely to hell.

Posted: **Thu Oct 07, 2004 7:04 pm**

Author's Note: Hey everyone! Thanks for the great feedback. This has always been a fun story to write, but it makes it even more so to know that people are enjoying it. I am really loving getting back into this world, which is familiar, but slightly different.

Anyway, onto October! Hopefully Liz will redeem herself slightly this month.

I mean, the girl can't allow herself to be blind forever, can she?

Part 4

~Liz~

October 20, 2002

Operation: Max & Tess - Update

Well, I am pleased to report that Max actually spoke to Tess today. I saw them talking in the hall, near the mailboxes, after lunch. When I saw him in Bio, he seemed annoyed that I noticed. I think he was embarrassed by how happy I was that it happened. I couldn’t stop myself from congratulating him, even though I knew he’d turn all red. It’s about time though! For some reason, since I told him I’d help him get together with her, he’s been avoiding her completely. I know he’s shy, but the fact that he just doesn’t know how much he has to offer a girl…it’s absolutely ridiculous!

Even though I’m trying to give him pointers behind the scenes, I stay away from them when they do actually converse, because Tess doesn’t seem to like me very much. I think she might have the wrong idea about my friendship with Max. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it here, but I’m taking some science courses, along with my writing classes, to keep my dad semi off my back. Anyway, Max and I have been spending a lot of time together recently, mainly because we ended up in the same Bio lab and we’re partners again - this time by choice. Why bother getting to know someone new, when we already work so well together?

Back to the subject at hand. I know Tess likes Max too, even though she won’t talk to me about it (trust me - I’ve tried). She can barely keep her eyes off him when they’re in the same room together. He doesn’t believe me when I tell him this, though. They’re both just so incredibly frustrating! She is everything Max needs. Nice and pretty and smart. I think he really believes that she’s out of his league. Maybe it’s the age difference, but I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure he thinks he’s not good enough for her. The fact that he has no idea how much he has to offer a girl drives me absolutely crazy.

I’m not sure why Tess won’t let me help her. I mean, she has to realize that I’m not interested in Max that way. Sean and I have been casually dating for close to a month now. It’s not love - at least not yet - but I’m not seeing anyone else either. She’s seen us together at Carlos several times. You’d think she’d get the picture by now. Max and I are just friends. But Tess’s attitude is why I haven’t been able to give him as many tips as I’d like to. I don’t want her to see us together very often.

Unfortunately, Max really does need help. He seems incapable of talking to girls without freaking out on some level I don’t understand. He turns bright red and gets all stammery. Interestingly, this behavior doesn’t really include me anymore. Since our late night chat of a few weeks ago, he seems perfectly comfortable around me. Now, if I can only get him to act the same way around Tess. I mean, he’s wonderful! She already knows it. I can tell. He just needs to show it.

If Max Evans would behave as openly with other girls as he has with me lately, he could have any girl he wanted. I’m going to try to remind him of that again tonight, when we’re studying for our Bio mid-term. Maybe I can get him to invite her to the dorm party. If he’d only just ask her out. Everything will go great after that. I just know it. There’s something about the two of them when they’re together. It’s almost like they’re made for each other.

Now I just need to convince Max that it’s true.

***

"He really over-did it today. I’ve told him that Isabel doesn’t care that’s he’s skinny, but he just won’t listen…"

"So, are you going to ask her?" I cut Max off abruptly, making him blink and then stare at me.

We’re sitting in the library, and have been for the past half-hour. My Biology text is open in front of me, but I have not read two words. Instead, I’ve been watching Max, waiting for the perfect time to start talking about Tess. Up to this point, he has been telling me about Alex’s new work-out regimen at the gym. Actually he’s been babbling about it, in an entirely unMaxlike manner. My eyes have been narrowing with every passing moment. I just know that he is avoiding the topic on purpose. He has been entirely too restless, which is totally unlike him. For example, until I just interrupted him, his pencil was tapping against the side of the table, like he has something major on his mind - and I have a feeling it has nothing to do with his and Alex’s latest trip to the gym.

It has to be Tess and, finally, I just blurt it out, so that he can no longer pretend it’s not what he’s thinking about.

"Ask who?" He returns innocently, his dark eyes dropping to the textbook in front of him. "You know, I think this test is going to be really hard…" He starts to change the subject again.

"Max!" I exclaim in exasperation, making the girl sitting at the next table glare at me. I blush slightly, dropping my voice. "You know what I’m talking about."

"Liz, I’m not asking Tess to the party." He raises his gaze, stares at me, his tone firm.

"Why not?" I demand. "You had the perfect opportunity this morning and you just let it slip away! Why didn’t you ask her then?"

"Liz, why the hell do you care so much?" he asks. "She’s not into me. I’ve told you. She’s dating someone else."

I start. "She is?"

"Yes, Liz," Max replies patiently. "I told you this last week."

"You did?"

"Yes," Max repeats. "Now, can we please just drop it?"

I am searching my brain, trying to remember him telling me. I am absolutely certain that he didn’t. In fact, I know he didn’t. My brain is so one-tracked on getting Max and Tess together, I would have remembered this information for sure.

"Well, boyfriend or not, she’s into you. I know how girls who are interested look at guys they’re interested in," I assure him. "Tess has the look." I am watching him, wondering why he is lying.

"Liz…" This time he’s the one who’s exasperated. "I repeat, why do you care so much? I am perfectly fine single. I’m too busy with school to date anyone anyway."

I shrug. "I just want you to be happy, Max."

He meets my eyes for a brief moment, then looks away. He abruptly seems a million miles from this place, plunking me squarely back at our lab table in high school. I used to hate it when he did that. I can feel him shutting me out. "I am happy," he mumbles.

"You sure sound it," I mutter, dropping my own gaze back to my textbook. I decide to drop the matter for the moment. As stated, I don’t like when he gets all distant on me. Since our little late night chat of a month or so ago, he hasn’t acted this way at all, except one other time when I was trying to talk to him about Tess.

I think it’s why I’m so obsessed with getting them together. I want Max to always be as open and as comfortable as he is when we’re alone together. I see how painful it is for him to talk to people. He’s always been this way, but since we’ve been in New York, he hasn’t been with me. He needs some self-confidence. Convincing him that Tess likes him might provide it. Hopefully.

"Are you going with Sean?"

I stare at him. He is looking at me again, back from whatever planet to which he briefly disappeared.

"I guess so," I say. "He hasn’t asked, but I think it’s assumed."

Okay, maybe this is why I want Max to get together with Tess. He is still entirely too focused on my relationship with Sean. He needs his own girlfriend to worry about. I know that Max still doesn’t trust Sean, even though Sean has done nothing over the past month to prove Max’s suspicions right. I think this drives Max even crazier. He wants Sean to screw up, just so he can tell me he told me so. But, Sean and I are having a good time. He has proven my confidence in him to be justified.

You’re probably asking why I’m so determined to give Sean a chance. The thing is, I get him. I understand how it is to suddenly feel liberated from a stifling small town existence. Sure, maybe he went a bit crazy when he first got here. It’s hard not to when you’re suddenly free from the watchful eyes of parents and an entire community. But he has never given me any reason to think that, now that he’s met me, he’s interested in other girls. He’s fun, and sweet, and entirely trustworthy.

I don’t understand why Max refuses to see it. He acts like the older brother I have never wanted.

"Go with me."

I am thinking about Sean at the moment, so Max’s words don’t register for a moment. When they do, I stare at him, dumbfounded. "What?"

"And Isabel and Alex," he adds quickly. He still isn’t looking at me. "It’ll be fun. You can see Sean there. And I can see Tess. Don’t you think it would be fun? Just the four of us? Like old times."

Of course, the Evans siblings, Alex and I never had old times in Roswell, but I don’t remind him of this. I know this is a ploy to make sure I don’t go out with Sean again. He is driving me crazy!

"Max…"

"C’mon, Liz. We can go for dinner and then just hang out." He raises his eyes to mine. He sounds so nervous, I realize I’m about to say yes, just to take that look of impending doom off his face.

The look inspired by the fact that he knows already I’m going to say no. Because I am.

What would he do if I said yes?

For one, brief moment, I’m so tempted, I become aware of my own pounding heart. Oh my God! Did my heart just skip a beat? I think that was disappointment that I’m going to say no. Impossible! This is so not good. This is Max. He’s from Roswell and I’ve moved beyond Roswell. I’m dating Sean. Max is supposed to like Tess.

And, yet, he’s asking me to go the dorm party with him. What does this mean?

"Max…" I trail off uncertainly.

There is a long, uncomfortable pause. "You don’t have to go with me if you don’t want to," he finally says. He doesn’t sound upset, just strange.

I look at him. "What’s wrong?" I can tell there’s something wrong. And it has nothing to do with the fact that he just asked me to the dorm party when we’re only supposed to be friends.

"I didn’t want to have to tell you this, Liz," Max sighs. "I’m trying not to interfere, but I can’t just sit here and not tell you. Because I know and it’ll just make it worse. I don’t want you to be mad at me."

"Max, what are you even talking about?"

"Sean’s girlfriend is coming to town for the party," Max says in a rush.

What. What?

"Girlfriend," I repeat, uncertain if I’ve heard him correctly.

"I talked to her on the phone this afternoon," Max informs me gently. "He has a girlfriend. She goes to BU and she’s coming to New York this weekend to surprise him. He told her about the party, and she decided it would be a good time." He grimaces. "She sounded nice on the phone," he adds lamely.

"This just can’t be right," I insist. "Sean told me about her. Her name is Hannah. They broke up."

"She didn’t sound like she thought they’d broken up," Max tells me. I can hear the anger in his voice. "Liz, I’ve been trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, because you like him. I have to admit, he has settled down since you’ve been dating…" He trails off. I can feel his anxious eyes on my face. I am staring off into space, still shocked.

Sean has a girlfriend. We’ve been dating for a month, he told me they broke up, and apparently he’s been lying to me about it the entire time.

"Liz, I’m so sorry."

I manage to shake my head. "It’s not your fault, Max. You warned me."

I am trying to analyze how I feel about this. I am hurt - definitely. I am disappointed - certainly. I like Sean. But, I’m not in love with him. I will survive this.

More than anything, though, I realize that I’m embarrassed. I gave him the benefit of the doubt and he has made me look like a complete idiot.

"Won’t you just go with me?" Max asks, sounding a little desperate. Like if he can’t make me feel better, he may just die.

I press my lips together. "Are you sure that Tess won’t go with you?"

"Liz, I’m sure," Max insists. "She’s not interested. I’ve given up on her."

"Okay, then," I say. "I’ll go with you. Just as friends, of course. If we find someone else for you there, you’re totally free to pursue it."

There is another long pause. He lets out a long sigh, which makes me look at him again. "As friends," he agrees quickly, as if I’ll maybe misinterpret his obvious relief. I can tell this has really been eating him up inside. He’s been concerned about how I’m going to react to his bad news. "What are you going to do about Sean?" he asks.

"Nothing," I say. "We never made any commitment."

"You’re not even going to say anything?" Max demands.

"No," I reply. "And neither are you. He’ll get the picture."

"You’re just going to let him get away with this?"

"I don’t see that I have any choice," I tell him glumly. And, I don’t. Sean isn’t my boyfriend after all. We’ve been on several dates, he’s kissed me once or twice, but we never said we were an exclusive item. I realize that I’m not even that upset. I’ve known from the beginning that he wasn’t my soul-mate. I am incredibly attracted to him, yes, but it never really went beyond that. "I mean, I could go yell at him, but what would be the point? He’s an ass. He won’t care."

"Can I kill him?" Max asks. "Please?"

I smile slightly, in spite of myself. "No, Max."

"Please?"

"You have to live with him," I remind him. "Let’s just try and pretend none of this ever happened. I clearly have the worst judgment on the face of the planet. I’d prefer to just forget about him."

"Liz, it’s not your fault," Max insists.

"I know, Max," I reply. "I guess I just needed a reminder of why I should stay away from men."

"Stay away from men?" He asks, strangely panicked.

"Not you," I reassure him quickly. "Not guy friends. Just guy guys. I’m supposed to be working on myself, on making myself into someone new. Guys are a distraction. Why do you think I broke up with Kyle in the first place?"

"Why do you need to be someone new?" Max demands.

"Well, not entirely new," I amend. "Just someone other than who everyone expects me to be. I came here to prove that I can make it on my own, and what do I do? I let myself get sucked into a relationship right off the bat. How typical."

"Liz, I don’t think you’re anything like people would expect you to be," Max says. He seems amused now. "You’re totally different than I expected," he adds.

Now, what is that supposed to mean?

He doesn’t say anything more though, turning his attention back to his Biology textbook, and I don’t ask. Because I realize I’m a little afraid to know what he really thinks of me. I have certainly proven myself a very bad judge of character since we’ve been here. I have definitely proven myself to be self-absorbed, basically accusing him of following me to New York. I’m entirely certain that Max actually kind of considers me a freak.

Well, I never tried to pretend I was normal. In fact, coming here was meant to lead me down the road not taken. I should take it as a compliment.

Being a freak is better than being dull. I’d choose freakiness over the boring person I used to be any day.

***

I have not returned Sean’s twelve phone calls since Max told me about Hannah on Tuesday. I have also been deliberately avoiding him, which isn’t too hard, since we have all different classes. As long as I’m not in the dining hall at regular meal times, it’s pretty easy. I spend all my study time up in the deserted carrels at the top of the library.

Charlotte is beginning to get a bit annoyed. Since I told her about Sean’s girlfriend, she thinks I should tell Sean to go jump off a bridge. I don’t blame her. I know I’m being a coward about this. I’m not sure why I won’t confront Sean directly. I guess I have a little bit of the sadist in me. I want to see the expression on his face when Hannah shows up at the party and he realizes that he’s totally busted.

It is now Friday and the dorm party is tonight. I realize that I’m nervous. I keep checking my hair in the mirror. I don’t know why I’m nervous. It’s only Max after all.

"You look fine, Liz," Charlotte tells me, sounding exasperated. "Will you please stop pacing?" She is lying on her bed. I had assumed that her face was buried in a book, as usual. She is a studyaholic, I swear. She’s promised she’ll come down to the party later, though. My room-mate tends to spend way too much time studying, and not enough time enjoying college life. I know she misses her boyfriend, but I have made it one of my missions in life to force her have a little fun.

"I don’t care what I look like," I inform her flippantly now. "It’s just Max."

She smiles knowingly. "Of course, you don’t."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I demand.

"Just that you’re completely fooling yourself," Charlotte replies. "You are dead gone on this guy."

"What?"

"Liz, please. You spend half your waking hours with him, you couldn’t care less that Sean is a cheating bastard, and you can’t stop looking at yourself in the mirror. What else is it supposed to mean?"

"I want…I want to look better than her," I stammer, frowning. "I’m shallow that way."

"Right." Charlotte rolls her eyes, turns back to her book. "Better than Tess, you mean." I could hear the amusement in her voice.

"Charlotte! Better than Hannah."

"Keep lying to yourself, babe," she replies, sounding bored. Actually, she sounds exactly like Maria. Why is it that my entire small town seems to have moved to New York with me? Isabel, Max, and Alex are all here in actuality, and Maria is here in spirit. "I just hope that Max is as patient as he seems. Because if you don’t get your head out of your ass, you’re going to lose him."

"Are you insane?" I demand. "I’ve been trying to fix him up with another girl for the past month," I remind her. "I am not interested in him."

"Okay," Charlotte mutters, not paying any attention to me any longer.

And, so, I am slightly pissy when the knock sounds on my door a moment later. I mean, I know how I feel for God’s sake!

Needless to say, my mood does not improve when I open the door to a Max who looks entirely too hot for me not to notice. He is dressed casually in khakis and his brown leather jacket, and my stomach lurches, much to my annoyance. I have never denied that he is a good-looking guy. Why does he have to prove it right now?

He seems to notice my glare, because he blinks. "Er, is everything okay?" he asks.

"Just fine," I snap, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him out of the room after me. See! Nothing. I feel absolutely nothing touching him.

Really. I don’t. Well, except for the way my face heats up a little. But that’s just because I’m sure Charlotte is about to say something embarrassing.

"Have fun, you two!" Charlotte calls after us. "I’ll see you later." I can tell that she is going to burst out laughing as soon as the door shuts.

"What was that all about?" Max asks when we’re in the elevator.

"Room-mates," I reply curtly. "You have a sucky one too. You should know all about it."

"I thought you liked Charlotte," Max says, confused.

"Usually."

He apparently decides to let it go, because he changes the subject, "So, how do you feel about Chinese?"

"It’s fine," I say. I turn my head, look at him suspiciously. It’s Charlotte’s fault. She’s made me question exactly what is going on here. Max sounds too nervous. Like it really matters that I like where we eat. "Max, you know this isn’t a date, right?"

He starts. "I know."

I feel a dull flush rising into my cheeks again. "Sorry. I just had to make sure."

"Liz, what happened?"

"Nothing," I assure him. I make myself smile. "I’m sorry. Chinese sounds great. Are Alex and Isabel meeting us there?"

The elevator doors slide open and we’re outside before he replies, sounding a bit tentative. "Well, no, actually."

"What? Why not?"

"Isabel dumped us," Max replies, sounding amused now. "She wants to be alone with Alex. Needless to say, he was all for it. They said they’d see us at the party."

"Oh. Okay." I feel my heart start to beat more quickly. I don’t know why I suddenly feel nervous. This is not a date. Max just confirmed it. I’ve been alone with him plenty of times over the past month, to study, and, also, to needle him about Tess.

Apparently, Charlotte has put some kind of weird hex on me. I am not interested in Max Evans. He is not interested in me. I shake my head, forcing myself to focus on returning our relationship to the easy one it has become over the past month.

"So, is Tess coming to the party?" I ask, as we walk towards the subway.

I think I hear Max sigh slightly, but when I look at him, he just shrugs, his expression blank. "I think so. She is a R.A. They’re the ones throwing it."

"Oh, right."

"Liz, can we please not talk about Tess?" Max asks abruptly.

"Okay," I agree. "What do you want to talk about?"

There is a long pause.

I can’t help it. I start to laugh.

"What?" Max demands, obviously embarrassed.

"Don’t we have anything to talk about other than Alex and Isabel, Tess or Sean?" I ask, amused in spite of myself.

He stops walking, stares at me. "Um…" I can see him frantically searching his mind for a topic that did not, somehow, revolve around any of those people. Then, amazingly, he starts to laugh too.

I realize that it is maybe the first time I have ever heard Max Evans do this. His laugh is deep and rich, and entirely not the laugh of a shy person.

But, then, he isn’t really shy around me anymore.

Or maybe he was never shy at all. Maybe I just thought he was. I mean, when I knew him before, I never really ever asked him anything about himself. I just talked at him, not to him.

However, I wasn’t completely self-absorbed back in high school. There was something mysterious about Max back then. Like I knew that if I tried to get to know him too well, he wouldn’t like it. In fact, there is still something of that element to him.

I am still intrigued by him. I admit it. In spite of the fact that he is a remnant of my life in Roswell, he is not a remnant I ever really knew or understood. It is why I wrote what I wrote to him in his yearbook after all. I’m glad that I’m getting the opportunity to know him better and, yet, he still holds something in reserve, still remains slightly distant.

I am interested why this is, but for the reason that Charlotte thinks. I wrote in his yearbook that I wished we had gotten to know each other better because he was the one person in Roswell I didn’t understand. He was the one part of that town that wasn’t known inside and out, the one person who couldn’t be boring to me, because I never got to know him well enough to realize that he was.

Or maybe I knew, somewhere deep inside, that he isn’t boring. Maybe that was why I never tried to get to know him. Because I knew that if I did get to know him, everything I thought I knew about Roswell and about wanting to get out of there would change.

I don’t understand why I am having this insight now. Fifteen minutes later, I realize that it was a premonition. Somehow, in that instant, when he was laughing, I really saw Max. I saw everything that he was going to mean to me in the future, saw how everything was about to change.

Because, fifteen minutes later, we are in Central Park, having taken the subway to near a little restaurant Max has found. It is just a short way through the park. It should not have been a walk that changed my life.

It is getting dark, but there are lots of lights and I feel safe with Max. We are actually talking about something other than Sean and Tess and Biology and Alex and Isabel. We are talking about my writing class and how much it means to me, and he is telling me that he is jealous that I know what I want to do so certainly. He is just saying that he has no idea what he wants to do, when the man dressed in black steps out from behind a tree.

I feel my eyes widen in dismay. Moments before, we were surrounded by people enjoying the evening in the park, but, abruptly, we are alone. The man has taken advantage of it.

He has a gun and it is pointed right at us.

It takes me about twenty seconds to realize that he is actually pointing the gun at me.

I am expecting him to demand cash or valuables or something, but he does not.

Instead, without ever even opening his mouth to say a word, the man in black shoots me.

Posted: **Fri Oct 08, 2004 6:54 pm**

Author's Note: Hi everyone! I'm glad you're enjoying this. And, voula, feel free to rant away. lol I love it. Just to reassure you...While there will be alien stuff in here, it is first and foremost about relationships. A lot of the stuff that happens in here will echo things that happened on the show but will happen a little differently, or the results will be slightly different. I am also adding a twist that makes them echo Season 1 of Felicity (for example, Liz's shooting, while echoing the Pilot of Roswell, also echoes when Ben and Felicity were mugged in Felicity, which brought them closer).

Anyway, on with the show. Only one more finished part after this one, which I'll post tomorrow morning. I am about halfway through the next part. The problem with this fic is that with the structure, I am only allowing myself three parts per month, so they're LOOOOOOOOONNNNGGGG...lol The other thing is that I have to be in the right "voice" to write it, if that makes any sense. Sometimes I'm just not in self-deprecating Max mood, and if it's a Max part, it's a problem. Or sometimes stubborn Liz isn't speaking to me. While I am also working on two other fics, your patience is appreciated.

BTW - this is my least favorite of every part of written of this story so far. The structure is a bit off, unfortunately, but I have never been able to fix it in a way that makes me happy, so I give up.

Part 5

~Max~

It has happened so fast, I don’t even react right away. One minute Liz and I are actually conversing about something that has nothing to do with Tess Harding, she is laughing, and has taken me by the arm, and everything is entirely rosy in my world. The next, she has been shot. What happens after that is different than I ever would have expected it to be. Not that I have ever really thought about what happens to someone when they get shot, but I’m pretty sure I thought they went flying. Liz doesn’t do this though. Instead, she just seems to melt into me. We are both sinking to the ground, and I am staring down at her, unable to even begin to comprehend this turn of events.

I will berate myself about my lack of action later, because what happened to Liz could have been avoided. All I had to do was throw up my hand and we would have both been protected from the bullet that has been shot from that crazy man’s gun. The crazy man in black, whom I now barely notice running off, so preoccupied am I by the fact that Liz’s blood is soaking my hands.

I could have protected her, but I didn’t. I was frozen. Physically, I could not move. I will not forgive myself for this fact - ever.

You have to understand, it wasn’t fear that stopped me from making my shield and protecting Liz. That, I think, would be understandable. Not that I really had time to be afraid of what Liz’s reaction to my gifts might be. I didn’t really have time to be scared of the man in black either, because he never even asked for any money. He just jumped out of the bush and shot Liz. So, no, it wasn’t fear.

Instead, it was just plain, old-fashioned shock. I just really could not believe - or even understand - that there was a man in front of us with a gun, and, not just that, he was actually shooting it. One minute, everything was normal. I felt like a regular guy, on a sort of date, with a girl I have had an immense crush on for years. In spite of Liz’s many declarations that this is not a date, Maria assured me earlier on the phone that it most certainly was, but that I had to pretend it wasn’t. And, then, it just wasn’t normal at all anymore.

Now, you might be asking yourself, exactly when did I start talking to Maria Deluca on the phone? Not that it really has anything to do with anything at the moment, but it is sort of ironic that one of her pieces of advice on how I should behave tonight - one I soundly rejected at the time, might I add - is going to come true, all because of a twist of fate. But, I’ll get back to that later.

Anyway, Maria started calling me a few weeks ago. I think Alex gave her my number. He told her all about the fiasco in which I had embroiled myself, which started when I told Liz that I have a thing for Tess. I’ve been trying to get myself out of that mess for close to a month, but Liz has become a woman obsessed. If she wasn’t proving it to me herself with her constant suggestions about how I should act around my R.A., then Maria’s interfering phone calls certainly would have done the job for her.

The first one came as sort of a surprise. I think the last person I expected on the other end of the line when the phone rang was Maria. I was moping in my room at the time, unsure exactly how to extricate myself from the Liz Parker Matchmaking Service. The horror of it all was that her interest in my love life meant that she wanted to spend time with me, so I also sort of didn’t want to get out of it. But, on this particular day, Liz wasn’t around, because she was out on a date with Sean. Needless to say, this did not improve my mood.

So, I wasn’t particularly friendly when I picked up the phone, pretty sure it was Isabel, who is really the only one who ever calls. Michael doesn’t believe in communication of any sort after all, and Alex usually just comes by and pounds on my door.

"What?" I demanded into the receiver, annoyed that my sister still seems to think that twelve phone calls a day is somehow acceptable. I was going to be particularly irritated if she was calling to ask me again if Alex had said anything about her lately. Because he really had no time to in the hour since she last called me.

"Whoa. Having a bad day, girlfriend?" Maria’s words, if not her voice, were instantly recognizable.

"Maria?" I was instantly dumbfounded. "Is that you?"

"You can just call me Sally," Maria replied, sounding amused.

"What?"

"I’m calling to give you some advice, dear Felicity."

"Maria, I am not Felicty," I barked, ruder than I meant to be. This wasn’t my sister after all. Although the way she’s been acting since graduation, and especially since she and Isabel started hanging out, I think she has forgotten this fact.

"Okay, Max. Whatever you say," Maria replied dismissively. "I just called to tell you, whatever you’re doing, keep doing it."

I held the receiver away from my ear, and stared at it, as though this would somehow make Maria see my exasperated expression. I pulled it back in, though, curious in spite of myself. "What are you talking about?"

"You heard me. She can’t stop talking about you."

"Who?"

"What do you mean who?," Maria huffed. "Liz, of course. Every time I talk to her, all she talks about is you, and the lack of progress she’s making with you and Tess."

"And this is somehow a good thing?" I demanded. "She’s trying to fix me up with someone else, Maria."

"Max, she never used to talk about you at all."

Well, Maria’s bluntness has never been in doubt, has it? "That just warms the heart," I muttered.

"Max, this is a good thing," Maria insisted. "She’s jealous and she’s trying to pretend she’s not. I know how girls think. When we’re feeling things we think we shouldn’t be feeling, we do the complete opposite of what we want to, if only to prove to ourselves that we’re not feeling those things."

This girl is no longer speaking English. And I thought I was the foreigner. "Maria, that makes no sense."

"Max, she likes you. More than she wants to. Trust me. I know, Liz. All she’s ever wanted is to get as far away from Roswell as she can, which you represent to her, but she can’t stop herself from liking you. She’s driving herself nuts. I’ve called her on it, she denies it. And I know my little chica. The more she denies it, the more it’s true." She sounded pleased. "Everything is falling into place. So just keep doing what you’re doing. Spend time with her, let her try and set you up with that Tess girl, and she will break."

"I don’t want her to break, Maria," I told her firmly.

"Liz is stubborn, Max. Once she has an idea, she’s like a dog with a bone. But she’s not stupid. She’s going to open her eyes soon enough."

"What about Tess?" I demanded. "Isn’t this kind of mean to her?"

"Why?" Maria asked suspiciously. "Does she like you?"

I blinked. "I don’t know," I replied. "That’s what Liz says." Not that I really put much stock in Liz’s opinion on this matter. After all, as Maria mentioned, she has tunnel vision about this. I had never really understood why, but what Maria was saying had certainly never dawned on me. She couldn’t be right, could she? This didn’t mean that everything Liz had said about not liking me that way was untrue?

If so, then there was something very wrong with girls.

Not to mention, the thought that Tess might be interested in me made me uncomfortable. I really liked her, but not the how I liked Liz. And I certainly didn’t want to hurt her.

"Well, I’m not saying you should go out with Tess," Maria said. "I’m saying that you should just let Liz keep doing what she’s doing. Which, from what Liz has told me, isn’t much. She seems to think that Tess thinks that Liz likes you, so she’s trying to coach you without getting too involved."

These girls thought that this wasn’t getting involved?

My head was spinning. I decided that I was wisest to just say, "Okay," since I really had no idea what Maria had just said.

"So, just keep spending time with her," Maria instructed. "She’s falling, Max. I know she is."

After that, she called me once a week, with updates. The latest call had been today, right before I left to pick up Liz for dinner.

"Is it true?" Maria demanded, the instant I picked up.

Since I am so used to her calls by now, I couldn’t help but tease her a bit. "Mom?"

"Max!" Maria exclaimed, annoyed. "Did Sean’s girlfriend really call?"

"Oh, it’s you Aunt Sally," I said, grinning. I was in a great mood, still on a high from the fact that Liz had actually agreed to go to the party with me, although it wasn’t really a date.

"MAX!"

"Yes, she called," I said quickly, grimacing as I held the receiver away from my ear. This happened at least once a phone call. Maria was anything, if not shrill, on occasion. "Is Liz okay?" She had seemed fine when I talked to her in the library. She had taken the whole thing much better than I had ever expected her to, in fact, had seemed completely normal all week.

I really wrestled with whether to tell her about Hannah’s call. After all, it was certainly to my benefit that Sean and Liz break up. I didn’t want to tell her about Sean’s two-timing if it was only for myself. But, in the end, she was my friend. I couldn’t not tell her. I had been more willing to risk her anger by interfering, then I had for her to find out on her own and then find out that I had known. The fact that she had called her best friend seemed to imply that Liz was more hurt than she had let on though.

"She’s fine," Maria replied impatiently. "She never even called me about it. Alex told me."

"Oh, good," I said, holding the receiver under my chin while I stared into the mirror. I started to mess with my hair. Why was it that it always had the tendency to look like hell just when I wanted it to behave itself? It was at times like these that I missed Isabel’s being next door to offer her advice. Having to look after my own appearance is a pain in the ass. I mean, I have no idea what the hell a girl wants a guy to look like.

Not that this was a date. I grinned at myself. Liz could call it whatever she wanted to. As far as my mood was concerned, it was a date.

"Max, this is not the time to make a move," Maria said, so surprising me, I literally dropped the phone.

"What?" I demanded, picking it up again, my heart beating double-time. "What do you mean?"

"You have to just let this happen organically," Maria told me, sounding worried. "Liz has been betrayed. She’s vulnerable right now. You don’t want her that way."

"I don’t?"

"No," Maria insisted. "She has to decide this is what she wants. She’s getting there, but she’s still denying her feelings to herself. Forcing the issue is just going to make her more stubborn. She’s already made one huge life decision this year, changing her entire future by going to Manhattan. I don’t think she’s quite ready to give up her "No Roswell" rule."

"Maria, her entire life still revolves around Roswell," I reminded her. "She sees me and Alex every day. She talks to you almost that often. She already breaks her stupid rule all the time."

"You and I both know that, Max, but she still hasn’t accepted that she can have her grand adventurous life and still be the same person she was here," Maria sighed. "If you push her, she’ll run. Damnit!" she wailed. "She was so close. She’s barely mentioned Sean lately. I think she was losing interest anyway. Why couldn’t it have happened naturally?"

"Are you telling me that I shouldn’t be going out with her tonight?" I asked, my disappointment so complete, I have to sit down on my bed.

"Well, it’s not a date, is it?"

"She said it wasn’t. I agreed."

"You want it to be though, don’t you?" Maria’s sympathetic tone annoyed me so much, I didn’t answer her. I mean, of course I did. "It is you know, Max. I think it is too. You just have to pretend it isn’t."

"This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard." Because, really, it was.

"Fine, it’s dumb. But, as I said, this is Liz. You don’t want to screw this up by moving too quickly. Just make sure nothing romantic happens."

"Maria, I think you’re insane," I said.

"What I am is someone who knows Liz," Maria reminded me. "Max, trust me."

I’m beginning to wonder if anyone really knows Liz. I felt like I’d gotten to know her pretty well over the past month. She is a little out of it when it came to my real feelings, yes, but she isn’t as out of touch with her own emotions as Maria makes her out to be. In fact, come to think of it, I’m not really sure why I’ve let Maria talk me into thinking that Liz’s obsession with Tess showed that she was interested in me. This made no sense after all. Logically, what it meant was that Liz wanted me to be happy, and since I had told her I liked Tess, she was trying to help me make that happen.

"I’m going, Maria," was all I said. I could feel myself getting mad. She had dashed my hopes, but I was beginning to see that Liz wasn’t the crazy one at all. She had only ever been honest with me. She wasn’t that upset about Sean, but that didn’t mean that she was just going to fall into my arms.

Maria was right about one thing though. I didn’t want anything to happen between Liz and me because she had been hurt by Sean. The mere thought was enough to make me ill.

I wanted her to want me. And I wanted her to know it too. Maria saying it was true just wasn’t enough anymore.

"Max!" Maria exclaimed. "Just listen, okay? Be yourself. Don’t go all boyfriendy on her. Not now. Open up to her, but act like it’s just the two of you hanging out as usual. Okay? Will you do that?"

"Maria, I’m not listening you anymore," I informed her. "Say hi to Michael."

This shut her up, allowing me to hang up. I could almost hear her mouth hanging open. Michael and Maria both think that none of us in New York have any idea what’s going on with them, which is clearly ridiculous. The fact that Michael even mentions her at all, occasionally, in emails stating how irritating she is, means that they are practically engaged by now.

Anyway, not listening to Maria had been going very well so far tonight. Dammit, this was a date and I was going to act like it was. It had been going well, too, until everything spun so completely out of control.

And, now, here I am, with Liz Parker finally in my arms, but this isn’t exactly how I envisioned it. I don’t mean to be flippant here - this is an extremely serious situation after all - but you all know I’m not going to let Liz die. Or, at least, I think you know it.

I have mentioned that I have the power to heal, haven’t I?

Maria’s advice is about to be applied in a way I’m pretty sure she never intended. She wanted me to "open up" to Liz. Well, I have a feeling that, after what’s about to happen, Liz’ll know pretty much all there is to know about me.

It’s terrifying, but it’s exhilarating at the same time. What has happened here has brought everything to a head. There will be no more hiding. I’m going to have to make a connection with her to heal her, and she will see inside me in a way no one else ever has.

She’s going to know how I feel about her. There’s no way to stop that now. Strangely, I’m glad. It’s time. I really wish it hadn’t taken something as dramatic as a mugging gone bad for me to realize this, but it’s true. Liz has the right to know how I feel. Playing games is unfair and I hate it anyway. In the end, it’s just not me.

Oh, and, of course, she’s also going to find out I’m an alien. But, somehow, this doesn’t seem nearly as monumental. Which only demonstrates again how gone I am on this girl - even more so since I’ve realized she’s really kind of weird. Weird is good. I mean, I’m the definition of weird. I need a weird girlfriend.

The man in black is gone by the time I shift Liz in my arms, but I know that the gun-shot is going to bring others out of the trees very soon. Mere seconds have passed since Liz was shot, in spite of all that you’ve just heard from me, but I still don’t have much time.

"Liz," I say urgently. "Liz, you have to look at me."

She is breathing shallowly, but I can tell that she’s still conscious. She moans lightly, but her eyelashes flutter. I am already undoing her jacket, then rip the blood-soaked shirt underneath away from the wound.

I feel my hear stop at the sight of her torn up abdomen. A lump enters my throat at the pain she must be in, but it will all be over soon. I place my hand firmly on the bullet-hole, muttering soothing words. "It’s okay, Liz. You’re going to be okay."

The connection is almost instantaneous. A flurry of images rushes through my mind, but I wade quickly through them, focusing on the healing. I have never been confronted by such physical damage before. The largest thing I have ever healed was a baby bird’s wing a long time ago, but I know that I can do this. I do not doubt for an instant that I will be successful. I mean, this is Liz. I will not let her die.

I feel the wound closing under my fingers, aware that Liz’s eyes are now fully open, and that she is staring at me. I gently help her to her feet, stumbling a bit as I do. I realize that I am exhausted. Healing her has taken more energy than I have ever expended before.

"Max!" Liz exclaims, grabbing me by the arm. This is reassuring. At least she still wants to touch me. Of course, she could be in shock. Actually, she probably is in shock. I look at her closely, hoping that this will be obvious on her face. Her eyes are wider than usual, but other than that, she just seems kind of breathless as she exclaims, "Are you okay?"

Am I okay? I wasn’t the one who was just shot here. This girl is so wonderful, it makes me even more nervous about what she’s going to say about all of this. It suddenly dawns on me that it’s not tiredness that has made me weak. It’s the rush of fear that has started to run through my veins, allowed now that Liz is going to be fine. I have not permitted myself a moment of doubt until this instant, but now it comes upon me, full-force.

Oh my God. What the hell just happened here? What would I have done if I couldn’t heal her? What would I have done if she had died? What if she had died and I’d never had a chance to tell her how I feel about her?

What if Liz Parker had suddenly no longer existed?

"Liz…" My hand is trembling as I bring it up to touch her face, to reassure myself that she is really okay. I never do answer her question about whether I’m okay. Because, obviously, I’m not. Physically, I am, but emotionally…not so much.

"Max, I’m fine," she says quickly, glancing around nervously. "We need to get out of here!" What has happened to her has clearly not yet registered. She is being far too calm.

"He’s gone, Liz," I assure her. "He won’t be back."

"I don’t care about him, Max," Liz says urgently. "Someone must have heard that gun-shot. How the heck are we going to explain this?" She steps away from me, motions down at her blood-stained clothes, at mine, at the blood that is still dripping from my hands.

"It is almost Halloween," I suggest. Am I insane? Did I really just say that? I am still in shock. There is now no question.

She stares at me. "Sorry," I mutter. "I’m still a little freaked out here."

"I don’t blame you," Liz replies. "But, Max, this is serious. We can’t just walk away. New Yorkers mind their own business, but they won’t ignore this."

She’s right of course. I actually can’t quite believe no one has come running over yet. We’re in the middle of Central Park after all. There is only one thing to do. In for a penny, in for a dollar, I guess.

I reach out, run my hand down Liz’s front, unable to remove my eyes from hers. She flinches a little, but then gasps, as the blood on her shirt disappears. I then gently do up the buttons running down the front of her shirt, trying to ignore her soft skin underneath my hands (Hey! I’m a guy! In spite of these dire circumstances, we do tend to have one track minds! Excuse me for living!) I decide that my best bet at the moment is to completely ignore the expression of disbelief on her face. I know she has questions, but now is not the time. I can feel her eyes scalding into me as I clean myself up next.

"Max," she whispers, her voice breaking a little.

"Liz, we need to get out of here," I tell her, taking her firmly by the hand. I am relieved that she doesn’t pull away, but I don’t put too much store in it. I think she’s about to faint. It never even crosses her mind that she shouldn’t be touching me.

"Where can we go?" she asks, surprising me by how strong her voice sounds again. I look at her. She is still gazing at me steadily, does not seem a bit afraid. Not of me anyway.

"I don’t know," I tell her. Because I don’t. Where is the best place to explain to the girl you love that you are an alien? Where is the best place for said girl to come to terms with the fact that she was just shot and that a guy she has known since elementary school simply placed his hands on her and healed her? Oh, and that, in spite of telling her he doesn’t for the past month, said guy does in fact adore her with every fibre of his being?

There is a long moment of silence. A jogger passes us, doesn’t even look twice. I stare after her, unable to believe that no one is going to even question us about the gun-shot. If I was unsure that I was no longer in Roswell before, this fact finally convinces me. I look at Liz again, and she is staring after the runner too.

"I guess we don’t have to go anywhere," Liz finally says. "Unless you want to," she adds quickly. "I mean, apparently this park isn’t the safest." She is beginning to sound a bit hysterical. I don’t blame her at all. I’m feeling pretty hysterical myself at the moment.

I want this conversation over with. Now that I’m on guard, I can protect us, if I have to. I can’t wait through the silence that will be required to get us somewhere else.

"It will be fine," I say. "Let’s find a bench."

Moments later, we’re sitting side by side. I can’t look at her anymore. She has gotten too quiet. It’s making me nervous. You’d think that I would have been nervous before this moment, that I might be concerned by her reaction to what happened - to the actual shooting I mean - but I wasn’t. I don’t know why. I just wasn’t. I was more nervous about what she saw in those flashes. As stated, I have a one track mind.

Now that my brain is working again, other thoughts have started to worry me too. Somehow I’m going to have to tell Isabel about this. And Michael. They are going to freak out. After all, it is one thing to start dating humans. It is something completely different to reveal our secret to them. I know in my gut that Liz will deal with this, but I’m not sure either of them will believe it.

I wonder briefly if I should tell Isabel what happened before I tell Liz how it happened. But I know that will be impossible. There is no way that Liz is going to wait that long for an explanation, and I don’t really want to wait that long to give it to her. As stated above, I want this over with.

"Max," Liz finally says, making me jump slightly. "How did you…I mean, what happened back there?"

"You were shot, Liz," I say. "And I healed you."

"Well, I know that," Liz replies. "What I mean is, how? How did you heal me?"

"I don’t really know," I tell her honestly. "I’ve just always been able to do it." I grimace slightly, then add, "I’m an alien, Liz. And don’t ask me where I came from, or anything like that, because I don’t know. All I know is that there was a real UFO crash in 1947 and I’m pretty sure I was in it."

There is another long pause. I expect her to jump to her feet, to exclaim why I’m lying to her, to demand the real truth, and, so I’m completely shocked when Liz starts to laugh. When I look at her strangely, a little concerned that she has momentarily lost her mind at the news that I’m an alien, she just shakes her head at me, not looking at all nuts. "I can’t believe this is happening," she explains. "I don’t even know what to ask you. I mean, this is crazy. You tell me you’re an alien, and I can’t even question you. I mean, I believe you, Max. How can I not? And it has nothing to do with the fact that you healed me either."

"What?" I have no idea what she’s talking about.

"I’ve just always known that there was something different about you," Liz explains. "I have to admit that, in spite of where we come from, I never expected it to be something like this." She pauses, then says in a rush, "And even now, I can’t care, at all. Because the fact that you healed me is incidental. I can’t even believe I’m saying that, but it’s true. Max, when you did it, I saw things."

While I had known that this was entirely too large a possibility, the fact that she flat-out admits it, shocks me. I am amazed that I sound as calm as I do when I speak, because my stomach is in knots, and there is a gigantic lump in my throat. "That’s because to do what I did, I had to connect with you, Liz," I explain.

"Connect?"

"I can’t really tell you what it means, other than I saw your thoughts. And I’m assuming it went the other way too. So, you saw mine."

There is another long silence. Finally, she whispers, "You love me. You’ve always loved me."

There’s no point in denying it. She knows, after all. So, I don’t. "Yeah."

"What about Tess?"

"I lied," I say.

She doesn’t seem to be waiting for me to admit this though, because her mind is already on something else. She asks, "What did you see from me?" I stare at her, a little amazed that it is only now that she is beginning to sound a little panicked.

"I can’t say," I admit. "I didn’t pay much attention. I was too focused on healing you." I can see the relief this causes her. She does not want me to know her thoughts. I feel guilty that I’m kind of lying to her, because I’m not being entirely truthful.

Now that I can actually think about what I saw, some of it is coming back to me. A lot of it was pretty confused though. Which, I guess, kind of makes sense, when you think about all the craziness in Liz’s life lately. She up and left Harvard, she’s been dating a guy who was two-timing her, and she’s also been dealing with her parents’ disappointment in her, and with her concern that, in spite of getting out, she’s never going to truly leave Roswell behind.

That was the one overwhelming thing actually - how much she wants to escape our small town. I never realized how absolutely serious she was about that. Now, I know. And Maria said that, to Liz, I represent Roswell. My heart is sinking already as I reflect on this.

Because, the one thing I have suddenly realized, is that I didn’t get any sort of flash about how she feels about me. I wonder if this is because of Maria’s assertion that Liz is lying to herself about how she feels about me.

Or, maybe, it’s for a reason that makes a whole lot more sense. Maybe I didn’t get anything about me from Liz because she doesn’t feel much of anything for me at all. She has already soundly rejected me and doesn’t even think about me romantically, because I’m from Roswell.

Or maybe she just doesn’t think of my romantically at all.

Suddenly, the fact that she knows how I feel about her, isn’t such a big relief.

"Max?" Liz breaks the silence that has fallen again, sounding a little frightened now.

"Yeah?"

"Would it be…I mean, would you be really upset, if we didn’t talk about this anymore right now? I…I think I need some time to process all of this."

I close my eyes briefly. "Liz, you know you can’t tell anyone about this?" I ask. I am, of course, going to let her have her time, but we do need to be clear on that one point.

"I won’t," Liz assures me. "I promise. It’s…it’s not the alien thing that I need to think about," she adds quietly.

"It’s not?"

"No." She reaches out, surprises me, by picking up my hand and squeezing. "You’re still Max. I’ve known you practically my entire life. I don’t care about that. I mean, it’s interesting, but it doesn’t change who you are."

See, somehow I have always known that this is how she would react to my big secret. It was why I always dreamed of telling her in high school, and was also one of the reasons I have always liked her so much. Liz Parker is pretty much the most accepting person I have ever known.

The sheer irony of this fact reminds me of something else I saw when Liz and I connected. She accepts others easily, and without prejudice. But, she doesn’t accept herself. Not as she is. And that’s what is really behind her entire escape from Roswell complex. She doesn’t like herself very much. She wants to be someone completely different.

I don’t get it at all. How is this possible? Doesn’t she understand how great she is? And I can’t even tell her. Not now. Not when she’s just asked me for time to think things through. If I start waxing poetic (although the mere idea of me being poetic is highly entertaining) about how wonderful I think she is, she’s going to think that I’m just trying to convince her to love me back.

Could this possibly get worse?

"I need to be by myself for a while," Liz says quietly. "I’m going back to the dorm."

"Liz, I’m not going to let you go by yourself," I tell her firmly. "Not after what just happened."

"Max, the odds that something like that is going to happen to me again on the same night are pretty small," Liz replies. "I’ll be fine."

"Liz, you were shot," I reply. "You shouldn’t be alone tonight. And you’re not going home alone either."

She sighs. "How about if I get a cab? Will that be okay?"

No, but I can see that she’s not giving in. "Fine," I say. "But what about being alone?"

"I thought you said I couldn’t talk to anyone about this?" she reminds me.

"Well, that’s different from being by yourself."

"Max…" She is clearly frustrated. I don’t blame her. I’m feeling pretty confused and frustrated myself right about now.

"I think you should tell Charlotte you were mugged," I insist. "You might have post-traumatic stress syndrome or something."

"I’ll tell her that if you want me to," Liz replies. "But I’m really fine." She looks away for a moment. "You saved my life. Thank you for that."

I can’t help it. I say, quite honestly, "You know I wasn’t just doing it for you."

"I know."

We have started to walk. We’re now back on the street. Liz hails a cab. It screeches to a halt next to the curb. I can’t quite believe that I’m letting her just walk away like this, but I know that I also don’t really have much of a say in it.

Even though she now knows my secret - in fact, she now knows both of them - I realize that I don’t feel any closer to her. In fact, it as if whatever slight bond we have created in the past month is gradually fraying. As I watch the cab pull away, I realize that she is now further out of my reach than ever before.

It isn’t because I’m an alien either. It’s because she’s not in love with me. And, now, she knows that I will never love anyone else.

Posted: **Sat Oct 09, 2004 8:30 am**

Author's Note:

Hmmmmm....Well, I can't say that I disagree that Liz is fairly unlikeable in this so far. On the other hand, I'm not someone who writes perfect characters. She's 18, she's in a new world, and she never ASKED Max to love her. She's not going to be able to change how she is just because he does. Not to mention, Ben wasn't that likeable at the beginning of Felicity either. If you like Tess better (and I'm glad because while we don't know much about her yet, I will tell you she's NOT evil), Season 1 Felicity was all about Noel at first. Ben came later. That doesn't mean this story won't always be about M/L, but it isn't JUST about M/L.

I guess, because this is REALLY Max's story, just like Felicity was really Felicity's story (even though he's not Felicity

)that even though we get Liz's POV, we're always going to sympathize with him more. I guess I'm just bored with "perfect Liz." I never thought she was perfect. She was stubborn, and very tenacious when she made a decision, just like Max could be stubborn and kind of imperious on occasion.

Anyway, this is the last complete part. I'm about 3/4 done the next part, but since I'm off to the lake for Thanksgiving, it won't be up until Monday. Happy Thanksgiving to all Canadians!

Part 6

~Liz~

So, when I’m proven wrong, I’m really proven wrong. If I presently wasn’t in such a state of sheer and absolute panic, I think I’d work up the energy to be mad at Max about the fact that he has so completely debunked my theory that everything, and everyone, to do with Roswell is boring.

Now, I have to admit, I understand that my need to completely escape from Roswell is a little irrational. I am a smart girl. I know it is kind of stupid, and not a little immature. However, before, I think it was at least a little bit understandable. I mean, it’s a small town in the desert. Everyone comments when you wear a new jacket. Life in my hometown is boring. Predictable. Sure it has the whole Crash of ’47 angle, which makes it a little unique, but once you’ve lived there, you pretty much know that the Crash is a stupid tourist cash cow. Because, hey! Aliens don’t exist.

Except they do exist. In fact, I sat beside an alien during science class throughout high school. Who knew? Even I can’t begin to try and pass this information off as boring. It is, in fact, that supreme opposite of boring. It is absurd, weird, even - dare I say it? - fascinating.

Ironically, it isn’t even the "aliens really exist" part of the equation that I am presently finding most disconcerting and revelatory. Because, in the end, as I told Max not an hour ago when I left him standing on that street corner near Central Park, he’s still Max to me. I haven’t suddenly started to think that he’s the first in a wave of killers from another planet sent to conquer the Earth.

Nope. He hasn’t been sent to conquer the Earth. He’s been sent to conquer me. And, the weirdest part of all, is that, I think I’ve always known it.

Until an hour ago, when he healed me, and I saw inside him - until every single thing about him was laid out bare in front of me - I could pretend that he hadn’t followed me to New York. I could believe him, because he told me so, and why shouldn’t I? I could convince myself that I didn’t know him well enough to see through him.

Until an hour ago, I could try and fix him up with someone else, because I was still living in a world where I was cheerfully blind to what my heart has known for years.

Until an hour ago, I could pretend that Max Evans was Roswell, and since I didn’t want Roswell, I didn’t want him.

Funny how everything changes in the space of an hour, when you are forced to confront not only your own mortality, but the other half of your soul as well.

In spite of the fact that I have taken a slight detour in my academic career, I have always been a scientist at heart. I believe in cold, hard facts. I am not a romantic, nor am I someone who believes that there is only one person who will truly complete another in this world. At least, until an hour ago, I was pretty sure I didn’t believe it.

So, then, how the heck am I supposed to explain Max? Because I think that I am beginning to realize that he was my main reason for running away from Roswell in the first place. Not because I was scared of him, or because I wanted nothing to do with him, but because I knew, somewhere deep inside, that some day he was going to mean everything to me, and it would change my entire life.

Because, what happened tonight has forced me to confront an indisputable truth. Max is not just an alien. He’s my alien. And I am nowhere near ready for everything that means. I wasn’t as a little girl, way back in third grade, when our eyes first met across a playground and, so, I turned away from him. I wasn’t in freshman year when Kyle Valenti first asked me out, and I hesitated for a split second, because Max happened to be walking down the school corridor at just that moment. But I said yes, because I just knew somehow that it wasn’t yet time for us (even though I didn’t consciously know…Is any of this making sense?) I am almost positive that I wasn’t ready six months ago when Max approached me under that tree after graduation.

And, yet, I wrote what I wrote in his yearbook, and he came here, and now it is an hour after I’ve been shot, and it is an hour since I found out that he is in love with me, always has been, and it has dawned on me that I think I am in love with him too.

I’m not ready. I have been confronted with the truth of my feelings and I am not ready for what it means. I’m not ready to have to worry about someone else before myself. I’m not ready to have to make decisions with two people in mind. I’m not ready for the reality that every little thing I do might affect someone else.

But, the thing is, what I saw when I connected with Max has told me that it doesn’t matter if I’m ready or not. He’s already in love with me and everything I do, say, think, feel, affects him already.

Why, oh why did I have to get shot? Why did this have to happen? Why do I have to face this already? Why couldn’t we just continue to build our friendship and then, one day, I could have had my eyes opened naturally to the fact that this is the person I’m supposed to be with?

Why do I have to know that I am already messing things up by even being in my room, hanging sideways, face down on my bed, thinking these things?

I know Max is out there somewhere, most likely freaking out. I think he believed me when I said that the alien thing didn’t matter. I mean, of course it matters, but it wasn’t what I really needed to think about. No, what is really paralyzing me with fear is the fact that we have somehow ended up in a situation where I have to acknowledge how he feels about me before I am ready.

So, I’m sure that at this point I’m coming across as fairly selfish, self-absorbed, and not a little strange. I recognize that finding out that someone loves you isn’t a bad thing. Coming to the realization that you just might love him back is, in fact, a great thing. But what am I supposed to do about the reality that I just know that this is the wrong time? That things weren’t supposed to happen this way? That as much as I’m not ready to be with Max, I also know that he’s not ready to be with me, in spite of what I now know he thinks?

Now everything is screwed up and there is no way to go back to what we had an hour ago. We can no longer just be friends. And it doesn’t matter one little bit that I’m not ready for anything else - that someday I will be, but now I’m not, and I’m going to hurt him because of it. In fact, I’m hurting him already because I won’t talk to him about what I’m feeling, when I know without question that he wants to.

Which is only confirmed two seconds later when someone knocks firmly on my dorm-room door.

I sit up quickly, catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror on the closet door, and sigh. I look absolutely frantic. My hair is practically standing on end, and my eyes are wide and a little unfocused. I can feel my heart pounding, because I am absolutely sure that it is Max, and I am just not ready to face him again. My present state of being is not going to reassure him that I have not totally flipped out on him. Not that he should be reassured. I think I’m about to lose my mind. I don’t know what to say to him. I do not know how to deal with this situation.

Why am I not ready? Why am I so convinced that he isn’t either, when the connection I made with him earlier seemed to tell me that he was? What is wrong with me?

"Liz, I know you’re in there."

My heart stops entirely. This is even worse than I imagined. It’s not Max at all. It is, in fact, Isabel, and she does not sound happy.

Isabel. I never even considered Isabel. If Max is an alien, then maybe Isabel is too. They were found together after all, wandering in the desert, and were then adopted by the Evans. It is one of Roswell’s most famous stories.

While I know that Max is not an evil alien, sent to conquer the Earth, if I am right, and Isabel is one of his kind, I am not sure that I can say the same about her. She conquered high school quite nicely after all. And by saying "quite nicely," I’m not being literal. There was nothing nice about it.

I have never been on Isabel’s bad side, as far as I know, but I’ve seen what happens to people who are. I am not, in any way, looking forward to this. But, I also know that I have to deal with her, even if it is ineptly. There is no question in my mind that Max has told Isabel what happened. That gun-shot started a sequence of events that I now see cannot be altered. I may feel like this is all wrong, that it is not time for any of this, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s happening.

I sigh, climb to my feet, and, moments later, open the door.

Isabel is abruptly peering in at me, her expression pained. She takes in my disheveled state and seems even more upset. She doesn’t appear angry though, which is a good sign. "Can I come in?" She glances behind her, to where a couple is randomly making out against a wall across the hall, obviously refugees from the party downstairs, as the girl has a plastic beer cup hanging from her hand.

The party. Was it only a few hours ago that I even cared about such things? I wonder briefly if Sean’s girlfriend, Hannah, ever showed up. I wonder even more briefly why I ever even cared.

"Sure," I say to Max’s sister. I step aside and she enters quickly. I shut the door behind her. She turns around and stares at me and there is a long moment when I realize we are each waiting for the other to speak first. Apparently she isn’t here to kill me with her alien death ray eyes - if she is, in fact, an alien as well.

I finally give in and say something, because there is something I want to know. "Is Max okay?"

Isabel relaxes visibly. This is a revelation to me. I realize abruptly that she was nervous. She is scared of me. Isabel Evans. Afraid. Of me. Because I know Max’s secret. If she only knew how little I care, and, also, how little chance there is that I would ever betray it.

But, how can she know? I only realized it myself just over an hour ago.

"He’s okay," Isabel replies quickly. "He’s worried about you."

"I’m fine," I assure her. "Is that the only reason you’re here?" I know, of course, that it isn’t.

But Isabel is not yet ready to move on. "Liz, you were shot. Are you sure you’re all right?"

The gun-shot. Right. I guess I should be a little more concerned about that. But, for some reason, I’m not. I barely remember it. I can’t even really recall if it hurt. It happened, but everything that came after is a giant blur, until the moment that Max’s thoughts entered my memory, and my heart was forced to acknowledge what it has secretly known all along.

"I’m fine," I reply firmly.

"Can I look?" Isabel asks, sounding a little tentative.

I stare at her. "At what?"

"At your stomach," Max’s sister replies, raising her chin, and trying to act like this is a normal thing to ask. "Just to make sure."

"Isabel, I swear I’m fine."

"Please, Liz."

I sigh, but comply, lifting my sweater so that she can see my smooth stomach. I blink when she gasps, then lower my head to see what’s upset her.

There is a silver hand-print glowing on my abdomen. The first thought that crosses my mind is, Well, that’s interesting. That wasn’t there ten minutes ago.

My second thought is a lot less calm. Because, it is in that instant that it suddenly sinks in. I was shot.

Oh my God! I was shot!

I feel my knees weaken, and I sink to the floor, my heart in the my throat, my palms suddenly sweaty.

"I was shot," I say. I can hear my voice as though from a great distance and it sounds extraordinarily normal.

Isabel, however, doesn’t seem to think so, because she drops to the floor beside me and places her hands on my shoulders. "Liz, it’s all right. You’re all right."

I meet her eyes, force myself to take deep breaths. I have never before hyperventilated, but I think I was on the verge there for a minute. "I am all right," I finally manage to say. "But, oh my God. Isabel!"

"I know," she says quietly. Our eyes meet and I can tell that she is searching my face for something. It makes me curious, but also a little afraid, like I am taking a test for which I am fully unprepared.

She doesn’t say anything for a long time, but she finally pulls back and climbs to her feet, reaching down to help me to mine. We then both collapse on the bed.

"Isabel, how did you know to look at my stomach?" I ask after another long moment of silence.

"I just wanted to see if there was any evidence," she says.

"Evidence of what?" I am getting confused now. While I can still feel that Isabel is not here to threaten me, she is certainly not making me comfortable right now.

"If there was no evidence that Max healed you, I was going to make you think it was all a dream," Isabel replies matter-of-factly, as though this is somehow a normal thing to say.

"What?"

"He’s never left a mark before," Isabel shrugs. "But he’s also never healed anything so big. I had a feeling that it might have been different this time. I was hoping…" She trails off, sounding disappointed.

"I didn’t mean about the mark," I tell her. "I mean about the "making me think it was a dream" part."

"Oh," Isabel says. "I can do that. Go into people’s dreams. I can fiddle with your mind enough to make you think it didn’t really happen."

I feel the instant urge to get away from this girl. She still doesn’t sound threatening, but the casual way she reveals the fact that she must be an alien too freaks me out a little bit. I stand up, move across the room. I pretend that I’m just going to the sink to get a drink of water, but I feel Isabel’s eyes following me, know that she’s not fooled.

"Liz, we need to talk about this."

I turn around, face her. "Isabel, I won’t tell anyone. I swear."

"That’s what Max said," Isabel replies. She pauses, then continues, "Liz, I don’t want to beat around the bush here. It’s obviously too late for that."

"Fine," I reply. "I want to be straight with you, too."

"You must know how my brother feels about you," Isabel says, so bluntly, it makes me blink. I didn’t expect her to be quite so candid. "In fact, I know you do. He told me as much."

"I know." My voice is barely above a whisper. I’m not sure what she wants me to say, or what any of this has to do with the fact that Max and Isabel are aliens, my knowledge of which seems to be Isabel’s greatest concern - understandably.

I examine Isabel’s eyes uncertainly, trying to gauge exactly what she is thinking. She meets my gaze steadily, again as though she is trying to see right into my head. Based on what she just revealed she can do, I’m now not entirely sure that she’s not doing exactly that. "Are you reading my mind?" I demand, before thinking.

"We can’t read minds," Isabel tells me, sounding unconcerned. "It would be helpful," she adds, smiling slightly. I blink when I realize that she’s trying to cut the tension by making a little joke. "Listen, Liz. I’m not trying to upset you or anything. I understand you’ve been through a lot. But I need to know…What exactly are you planning to do about Max?"

"Why?" I ask, really unclear as to why she needs to know this.

"If Max thinks you’re trustworthy, I have to believe him," Isabel says.

I feel my heart warming at the thought of Max being so absolutely certain about me. He is right. There is no way I will ever betray him. He saved my life after all, plus he’s Max. I know he is the farthest thing for dangerous there is. I will never be scared of him.

"It’s too late to take it back now, although I was ready to kill him when he first told me what happened," Isabel continues. "But, the point is, he connected with you. I didn’t. I have to take his word for it. So, I’m willing to trust you with our secret."

The way she finishes, I can tell that there is a very big "but" attached to what she has just said. I wait, not saying anything.

"I want you to tell you two things, Liz. One, Max’s heart is a very fragile thing, and I will not allow him to be hurt. So, if you don’t feel the same way about him, then you’re going to tell him right away, and then you’re going to stay away from him, so that he can get over it."

Well, it’s ultimatum time apparently. Which is so not helpful, being as I think I know how I feel, but I don’t really have any idea what I want to do about it. If I don’t do something about it now, though, I have the feeling that Isabel is going to make sure that I never get within two feet of her brother again.

So much for just staying friends.

But I’m really not that scared of Isabel. I appreciate that she’s just watching out for Max. But, in the end, whatever happens between us is up to Max and me. I’m not going to let Isabel interfere and I have a feeling that Max won’t allow it either.

"And, two?" I say, not acknowledging her threat at all.

Isabel seems mildly impressed by this, but doesn’t comment. Instead, she surprises me by saying, "I want to tell Alex myself."

I stare at her. "You’re going to tell him?"

"I don’t think I have much choice," Isabel sighs. "He’s going to want to know why Max was so upset, and he’s nothing if not persistent." She pauses, then adds almost shyly, "Plus, I think I want him to know."

"So, Max is upset, huh?" This is not news. I knew he was. I mean, I saw his face when I left him standing on that street corner. It’s really amazing to me that six months ago, I could barely read him, even after four years of sitting beside him in lab. But, now, after the connection, I feel like he has practically become an open book. Even during the short time we talked in the park, I could see the difference.

"Of course," Isabel snaps, sounding annoyed now. "You ran out on him, Liz. He revealed his two deepest, darkest secrets to you in one fell swoop, and you took off."

"I…" I swallow around the lump in my throat. I didn’t mean to hurt him by doing that. I really didn’t. But I needed space to try and figure out what all of this means. Which, of course, I haven’t done. "Do you think I should go see him?"

"Do you want to?" Isabel demands.

"Yes," I say, surprising myself at how certain I sound. I realize that I feel that same certainty too though. I do want to see Max. Maybe I know now that I need to talk to him to figure out exactly what I’m going to do. "Where is he?"

"He’s with Alex. They’re at the party." It seems that my surprise at this announcement has appeared on my face, because Isabel continues, "We have to be completely normal, Liz. Going to a party is normal."

"Okay," I say. I stand up, head over to my dresser, and pick up a hairbrush. "Just give me a second. I don’t want to look as freaked out as I feel. Because that wouldn’t be normal." I don’t mean to sound sarcastic when I say this last bit, but I know I do. I flinch slightly, when I meet Isabel’s eyes in the mirror.

"Don’t you think ‘normal’ is boring?" Isabel asks quietly. "Isn’t that what all this," she waves her hand in the air - for some reason I understand she means New York when she does this - "is about?"

"That’s true," I acknowledge. I run the brush through my hair, wonder if I can confide in Max’s sister. After all, she’s loyal to him first. She’s already given me an ultimatum about hurting him. If I admit my whacko feelings, she may just kill me. I mean she’s already admitted she can get into my dreams somehow. Isn’t it true that if you die in your dreams you die in real life? Somehow I know she could do it. And, yet, I’m not scared of her. The entire student body of West Roswell High would be amazed to hear it, but I am not afraid of Isabel Evans.

I decide that if I’m not scared, it should be safe to at least tell her a little bit of what I feel. Because it doesn’t all have to do with Max, after all. "I guess…I guess I never realized that normal was safe. I’ve always been safe. Even this," I wave my hand in the air, in an imitation of Isabel’s recent gesture, "isn’t dangerous, you know. I knew my parents would freak, but I also knew that they’d support me in the end. It wasn’t that big a rebellion, after all." I feel my face warming up with embarrassment. "It all just seems kind of juvenile, now that I know what you and Max have been dealing with for years."

"I would give anything to be normal," Isabel whispers. "For what you did to be the strangest thing about me."

I turn and nod, because it was exactly what I had felt from Max in the connection. "I know." And I understand that what Isabel is really saying is that she would do anything to feel safe. She would do anything to be able to feel as secure as I have over the past eighteen years. I have been so safe that I could do things like completely change my college plans at the last minute. I could do it and know that, in the end, if I changed my mind back, it would be all right. I could do all of this, and feel like I was daring, but know, deep down, that what I was doing was really just "normal" for someone my age.

Isabel has never had that luxury. And neither has Max. Which only makes what he did for me that much more extraordinary. I cannot screw this up. I will not screw this up. Because, if I do, I will not get another chance. Somehow I know this, and it doesn’t matter if I’m not ready for it. It is here, and I have to leave normal behind once and for all, and I have to go for it. Because, if I don’t, I am going to regret it for the rest of my life.

***

The party is being held in the big common room on the second floor. I begin to feel the pounding rhythm of the music while Isabel and I are still in the elevator.

We haven’t really said anything to each other since we left my room, but it isn’t an uncomfortable silence. For some reason, I really think she trusts me, and it’s not just because of what Max saw in the connection we made (which is beginning to make me wonder a bit actually. He told me earlier that he didn’t see anything, which, it is now clear, was a total lie). I think, actually, based on what she has said, that it is because I’m friends with Alex. She clearly trusts Alex - which just shows her good judgment - and if he trusts me, I think it’s good enough for her. Not only that, but Max and I have now given her the opening she has been waiting for - the excuse to tell Alex the truth.

I wonder briefly how long Isabel has been lonely. Because, when she revealed that tiny little piece of herself to me upstairs - when she admitted that she just wanted to be normal - it was clear that it was the first time she had ever told anyone that. It is slightly strange to think that someone like Isabel Evans, who has always been the most popular person I know, can feel alone. I guess it’s why she really isn’t that mad at Max, for what happened, after all. I think she’s been waiting a long time to be able to open up to someone. And, for reasons clear only to herself, she has chosen Alex. I wonder how long she has been interested in him. We’ve only been here just over a month. It seems kind of sudden, even though I know that she couldn’t pick a better person to trust. It makes me wonder if she has quietly harbored feelings for my best friend for a long time. It is odd to think about all these secret crushes possibly having existed over the years. And it has taken getting us out of Roswell to make us do anything about it.

I’ve always considered Roswellians to be the epitome of boring and normal. I am being proven wrong constantly today. Because, it is becoming ever more clear, that we are so not normal. In fact, we are all very weird indeed. And I’m not just talking about the fact that some of us are aliens.

Isabel and I are now standing in the doorway to the common room. The air is thick with haze from the DJ’s smoke machine. I’m impressed. The R.A.s have obviously gone all out. The crowd is huge and the dance floor is packed. Everyone is clearly having a great time.

I scan the crowd, looking for Max and Alex. Unfortunately, in spite of their height, or maybe because of my lack of the same, I can’t see them anywhere. I look at Isabel, who is taller, and should be able to see across the masses, but she seems as perplexed as I do. She looks down at me, mouths, "I’ll go that way." I nod, and start threading my way through the crowd in the opposite direction.

You know what the problem is with dorm parties? Everyone you know from your dorm happens to be at them. Including your ex-boyfriends…okay, well he wasn’t really my boyfriend, but he was close enough. Because, who should I happen to run into first? The last person I want to see, of course.

Yes, it’s Sean, and, even more annoyingly, as I look to both sides of him, he seems to be alone. Isn’t he supposed to have a girlfriend here or something? Because, if she was here, I would have an excuse to ignore him, as I’ve been doing for the last week.

But, no, he’s by himself, nursing a drink, and, even though I try to duck out of sight behind a really tall guy, he sees me and starts to head in my direction.

"Hey," he says, when he reaches me. He sounds downtrodden (in spite of the fact that he has to yell to be heard over the music). "Where’ve you been all week?"

"Oh, busy," I say non-committally. I am still pretty much ignoring him, searching the crowd for Max, which I am aware is the height of rudeness, but I am sure that you can understand that I don’t particularly care at the moment. "I’ve got to go, Sean. See you around."

I start to walk away, but he grabs me by the elbow. "Liz, what’s wrong with you?" Sean demands, as I shake him off.

"What do you mean what’s wrong with me?" I snap. And, since I can tell he really has no idea - is he dense? - I tell him. "Where’s Hannah?"

He blinks. "Hannah?" He looks around. "Oh, she’s here somewhere." Good Lord! He actually admits it! With no shame at all.

"Shouldn’t you be with her?" I demand, wondering if he is truly as clueless as he appears to be.

"No," he shrugs. "We agreed we’d meet up after." He pauses, then leans his head close to my ear. "She really wants to meet you."

I pull away. "Excuse me?" I am flabbergasted. Are they both insane?

It is then that a dawning look of comprehension begins to cross Sean’s face. "Wait a minute! You don’t think that there’s anything going on between me and Hannah?"

I stare at him for a long moment, then say, "I don’t really care, Sean. It’s not like we were exclusive or anything."

"Liz, I want us to be," Sean says, actually sounding a little pleading. He, in fact, sounds so unlike himself, it makes me suspicious.

"Since when?" I realize abruptly that he isn’t even looking at me anymore. He’s staring over my head, quite clearly at someone else. I assume it’s Hannah, and since I can’t help my own curiosity, I turn and follow his gaze. Much to my amazement he’s not looking at a stranger at all. He is, oddly, staring at Max.

Max! My heart leaps with anticipation. Rudely, I leave Sean standing there without another word, because I am not going to lose Max in this crowd. He isn’t standing in one place, but seems to be walking towards the exit. If I don’t hurry, he’s going to be gone, although I’m sure I’ll be able to find him in his room, so it’s not that big a deal. But, for some reason, I feel like it is. I feel like, if he leaves the party, I will lose my only chance to make things right between us - whatever that entails.

Fortunately, my luck changes at that moment, because I see Isabel stop him. She is gesturing with her hands and glancing down. I stop for a moment, wondering what she is suddenly so annoyed about, because I can tell she is. I watch, frowning slightly, as Max shakes his head. For a moment I think he is disagreeing with his sister about something, but the movement isn’t quite like that. Strangely, he actually looks like he is trying to wake himself up.

I have started to push my way through the crowd again, and I am very close to the Evans siblings now, but I still can’t hear a word they’re saying. Isabel is talking in a very animated fashion, although, oddly, she doesn’t seem to be speaking to Max anymore. Or, if she is, he is ignoring her completely. Max is now glancing around the room, and I know that he is looking for me - that it is only a matter of time until his gaze settles on me - but it still makes my entire body heat up. My heart starts to pound extraordinarily fast and the entire room seems to be almost pulsing, when I feel his eyes come to rest upon me. I know it’s weird, but that’s what it feels like.

Well, this is it. I still have absolutely no idea what I’m going to say to him. It was so easy to talk to him earlier, before it happened. Actually, it was still pretty easy to talk to him right after it happened, but, now, in spite of the fact that I have actually seen inside him, he is more mysterious now than he ever was before. He is now different in my eyes.

Or maybe he’s not different at all. Maybe it’s me that’s changed. My eyes have been opened.

As Max starts to make his way toward me, through the crowd, I realize that he and Isabel were not alone over there. Because Tess is abruptly revealed when Max moves. She is watching him come towards me, a slightly glum expression on her pretty face. I wonder if that’s why Isabel was so upset - that Max was apparently about to leave the party with Tess. It amazes me that I had totally forgotten about Tess, when, not two hours ago, I had barely spoken two words to Max since September that had not somehow included her. I feel a rush of relief that he has ignored me completely about her over the past month. Because, whoa, would that have been a mistake.

I mean, it wouldn’t have been fair to Tess, would it? Not when he is looking at me like he is at the moment, in a way that makes me want to melt into a puddle right here on the dance floor. How could I have ever believed him when he said that he didn’t come here because of me? And how lucky am I that he did?

After what feels like forever, (you know I’ve never been one of those people who understood the weird way people move in slow motion on TV when something momentous is happening, but I’m telling you, I understand it now. Because, I swear, for a moment it feels like Max is never going to be close enough to talk to) he is finally standing in front of me.

I search my mind for something brilliant and meaningful to say. I come up with nothing, so I settle for, "Hi."

"Hi," Max says back. You know, I have to wonder how I ever thought this guy was shy. He doesn’t seem at all shy at the moment. In fact, he is obviously just a really good actor. Because he has to have been hiding the way he is looking at me. I mean, there is no way I would not have noticed. "I’m glad you came," he continues. He is practically yelling into my ear, over the pounding music, and the screaming crowd, but, for some reason, it feels like we are totally alone. His breath on my neck sends a shiver down my spine.

Okay, did I ever say I wasn’t ready for this? I was clearly whacko at the time.

"Max…" I begin. Begin being the operative word, because what exactly am I going to say? Take me, I’m yours, seems a bit extreme, even in the present circumstances. Besides, I don’t want to scare him off.

"Don’t say anything," he tells me firmly. "I know you need time. I don’t want you to say anything. I just want to be glad that you’re here."

I meet his eyes. "I don’t think I’m going to say anything you’re not going to want to hear," I reply.

He smiles slightly. "I’m glad. But, Liz, it can wait. For the moment, there’s only one thing I want."

"What?" I ask, a little uncertain. I am beginning to feel relieved that he isn’t expecting me to bare my entire soul to him right at this instant. I wonder what exactly it was that he saw inside me when we connected earlier, because he seems to understand exactly what I am feeling.

"I want to dance with you," he replies simply. It is only then that I become aware that the pounding bass has settled into a slow song. I don’t recognize it, but I know that I will be downloading it on my computer later tonight. I never want to forget exactly how I feel at this moment.

"Okay," is all I say in return.

So, we do. And, as his arms come around me, and I lay my head on his chest, breathing his closeness in, in that moment, I feel completely safe and happy. And, somehow, I know that he feels exactly the same way.

Talking is over-rated anyhow.

Because, this boy saved my life two hours ago, and he loves me, I think I may love him, and, for now, it is all that matters. To both of us.

AN: Coming soon: November and Thanksgiving in New York, including visits from Kyle and Michael, the truth about Tess (for Liz, not Max), and Alex's reaction to the alien secret!

Posted: **Mon Oct 11, 2004 3:11 pm**

Author's Note: Thanks for the reassurance that you don't hate Liz, folks, and that you're willing to come along for this ride, even if the characters are sometimes unlikeable. Feel free to express your disgust. lol

Anyway, yes, it's true! A new part. I'm just about as excited as you all are. This fic takes so much out of me, I swear. Every part of it takes about three times longer than with BOTS or B&S. It's exhausting! Plus, it never quite ends up where I expect it to, which is interesting. But, I'm on a roll now. I'm actually off to continue with Part 8 before I lose the trend.

Oh, and finally, this part is dedicated to Gioia, because I know she has so been looking forward to it.

Part 7

Late November, 2002

~Max~

"Get up! Why are you still in bed? Michael’s going to be here soon!"

I moan as Isabel pulls the comforter off my bed and onto the floor. "Who let you in?" I grumble into my pillow, after I have pulled it over my face. "I thought I told Sean very specifically that you were not allowed in."

"By now he knows better than to mess with me," Isabel replies snootily. "Besides, he’s not here."

"Then how the hell did you get in?" I demand, allowing one eye to peek out at my sister. "And give me back my blanket. I’m cold. I have the flu, you know."

"Max, please." She waves her fingers meaningfully, demonstrating that she used her powers to unlock the door. "And, by the way, I know very well you’re not sick. We don’t get sick," Isabel snaps. "What the heck is wrong with you?"

"I am too sick," I reply, grabbing the blanket back from her, and pulling it over my head. "Go away."

"Please tell me this isn’t about, Liz Parker," Isabel says, sounding impatient. "Max, if this is about Liz Parker, I swear I am going to murder you."

"It’s not about Liz," I mutter, although of course it is. It’s definitely about the fact that I haven’t spoken to her directly in more than two weeks. It’s also about the fact that Kyle Valenti will be arriving on the same plane as Michael. He’s coming to visit Liz for Thanksgiving, just like Michael’s coming to see us.

No, Isabel. It’s not about Liz Parker at all. Ask a stupid question, and you’re going to get a stupid answer, sister most meddlesome. Because she has certainly made things worse over the past month. Trying to keep this from her, so that she won’t go postal on Liz, has made the entire situation that much more stressful.

Did I ever say I would have missed my sister if she’d gone off to New York without me? I was wrong. Right about now, Isabel being on another planet would be just about perfect.

Actually, maybe I should be the one making a break for another planet. Then I wouldn’t have to go to the airport and risk running into Liz and Kyle. The more I think about this plan, the more I like it. I wonder if NASA picks up hitchhikers? I mean, if they knew that I’d just be going home, maybe they’d make an exception about all that training and stuff?

Okay, I’m guessing that this is all going to strike you as a bit weird, considering where you last left Liz and me. That dorm party was the best damn night of my life, bar none, and I’m including the day I was adopted, which until that point had been the highlight. Even thinking about it now, with Isabel glaring at me, makes my heart start to beat more quickly in my chest.

Holding Liz in my arms that night…It was exactly everything I had always dreamed it would be, but better. Her hair was softer than I ever imagined it would be when it brushed against my neck. Her skin was silkier than I ever expected, when my hands touched it at her waist, because her shirt didn’t quite completely cover everything. Her scent was more intoxicating than it ever had been when I had sat two feet from her all through high school.

It was the most perfect moment ever. And, for while, it seemed like it was going to be only the first in many such perfect moments.

Yes, I know I sound like a girl. But this is Liz we’re talking about here. And you should expect this from me by now. Remember what Michael said? I must have had female DNA in my pod. I think he’s right. I’m just too damn mushy for words. Not only that, I also read far too much into everything that night, which is why I am presently pretending I’m sick.

The last thing I want to do is go to the airport and run into Liz with Kyle. Because, oh joy. Thanksgiving my ass. It’s more like Hellsgiving. And, yes, I know that makes no sense, but humor me. I’m depressed.

So how is it that Kyle’s coming for Thanksgiving? Beat’s me! Hence the depression. All I know is that Alex told me two days ago he is, and I haven’t talked to Liz in three weeks, so I can’t even ask her what the hell is going on.

We did both agree to take things slowly. This is true. A month ago, after that night, I knew that Liz had been through a very traumatic experience, what with being shot and all, (not to mention the discovering I was an alien and all) and the last thing I wanted was for any feelings she might be having for me to be a result of that. I had heard of that weird thing where people fall in love with people who save them, and the mere thought that this might be what had prompted Liz’s change of heart made me dread seeing her the next day. Because what if she realized that this was what was going on, and she told me she wanted to still just be friends?

When I woke up the next morning, I was completely convinced that this was what was going to happen.

But, later that day, she seemingly hadn’t yet realized that this was supposed to be her reaction. I talked to her on the phone, and everything was great. We met on the roof of the dorm, and talked for hours, and it turned into the second best night of my life. Or maybe the first. Who knows? I can’t pick between them. I still regret not kissing her right then. There were so many perfect opportunities, but I didn’t take them, still slightly unsure that she wanted me to, and now I might never get the chance. Would things be different now if I’d just kissed her?

Because, it was after that night that Liz got weird on me.

It all started innocently enough. What happened was that Isabel and I had to go back to Roswell. Our grandfather died suddenly, and we heard about it on the Sunday after the party. We had to head to New Mexico immediately, because the funeral was on Tuesday. I didn’t get a chance to talk to Liz directly, but I did leave a message for her with Alex and, when I got home, I found a very nice email from Liz waiting for me. I still have it saved in my inbox, but I have it memorized anyway.

To: maxevans@manhattanuniversity.com

From: honeybear@hotmail.com

Subject: None

Max,

I was so sorry to hear about your grandfather. I know how hard it is. I still think about my Grandma Claudia every day, even though she’s been gone for three years. It’s those memories that are important now. I wish I’d had a chance to see you before you left, but I’ll be here if you need to talk. Call me. Or if there’s no time, it’s okay. I’ll see you when you get back.

Love Liz.

I did try calling Liz. I was pretty upset about my grandpa, and I knew that hearing her voice would cheer me up. It wasn’t like I could talk about these things with Michael, because whenever Iz or I talk about our extended family he just gets all quiet. I know it’s because he’s jealous, although he would never admit it, and I try not to say too much about anything to do with our adopted relations to him. Not to mention, I had other things to talk to Michael about, which I’ll get into later. I couldn’t talk to Isabel either, or my parents, because they were just as upset as I was.

So, anyway, I was glad Liz wanted to be there for me. Plus I just wanted to talk to her. So I called. But she wasn’t home. It was Charlotte who answered.

"Oh, hey, Max. I heard about your grandpa. I’m so sorry."

"Thanks," I said. "Can you tell Liz I called?"

"Sure," Charlotte replied. "She probably won’t be home for a while though. She and Alex went to a movie."

"Oh, okay," I replied. "Just tell her to call whenever. I’ll be up late."

"Of course." There was a pause. "Listen, Max, Tess has been by here looking for you. Liz told her you’d gone home, but she seemed pretty upset. You might want to get in touch with her."

"Really? Okay. Thanks."

Charlotte and I hung up, I dealt with all the stuff around my grandpa’s funeral, and, after a week, Isabel and I came back to Manhattan. I never did get a chance to talk to Tess.

I never ended up talking to Liz either, but I’ll get back to that in a minute.

You might find it weird that I even mentioned what Charlotte told me about Tess at all. But when I explain the next stuff, you won’t. Not only did I never call Tess from Roswell, I haven’t actually really spoken to her since I got back. In fact, I’ve been pretty much avoiding her as much as Liz has been avoiding me.

Something weird happened between us at that dorm party. I can’t explain it, but it’s true. I was pretty out of it when I ran into her there, what with being worried about Liz and all. I think she could tell, and she asked, but I couldn’t exactly talk to her what was going on because of the whole shooting factor. I think she was hurt. Because, ironically, the whole time Liz was trying to hook me up with Tess? Tess was my confidante about how to convince Liz to date me herself (besides Maria, of course). And we’d grown pretty close over the last few weeks. So it was kind of hard to not just tell her everything.

I’ve never mentioned any of this stuff before, because I was kind of preoccupied with the whole Liz getting shot and finding out I’m an alien thing. But, while Liz and I were becoming friends, so were Tess and I. And, the more I think about it all after the fact, the more I think that Liz might have been right about Tess all along. That it wasn’t Alex she was interested in, but me. Now, don’t think I’m suddenly all full of myself or something. It was just that our conversation at the party was so peculiar.

She came up to me and immediately asked me where Liz was (she knew that Liz and I had gone for dinner).

"Up in her room," I told her. "She wasn’t feeling well."

"Why not?" Tess demanded. "What happened?"

She sounded so suspicious, it made me stare at her for a moment. "She just ate some bad fish or something," I replied vaguely.

"That girl isn’t Sean’s girlfriend," Tess said abruptly.

"She isn’t?" I didn’t particularly care about Sean at the moment. After all, I knew that Liz had pretty much closed that door.

"No. He’s been looking for Liz all night," Tess added. "He seems really upset."

"Tess, why are you telling me this?" I looked at her strangely. She knew, after all, that the last thing I would want to talk about was Sean and Liz.

"I just don’t want you to get hurt," she replied. "I mean, what if she gets back together with him or something?"

"I guess if that happens, I’ll have to accept it," I told her, although I didn’t really want to even think about that possibility. I didn’t actually think it was one anymore, but the thought of Sean and Liz still gave me the creeps.

"Max, I just don’t want you to get hurt," she repeated. She reached up and put her hands on my shoulders, so that I had no choice but to look right into her blue, blue eyes. "Promise me you won’t let her hurt you."

Now, see, this is when things got really weird. Because, for one instant, Tess was all I could see. Liz flew out of my head completely, and the only thing on my mind was "Wow. Why have I never noticed how beautiful Tess is?" And, then, even more strangely, my next thought was, "I really, really want to go somewhere with her, right now. I need to be alone with her."

Yeah. So. Please don’t think I’m a total ass. I know it sounds horrible. And I know this is going to sound completely ridiculous, but I really feel like she put some kind of trance on me or something. Because, that second part…I have no idea where it came from. I am absolutely convinced I did not think it myself.
The last thing I wanted was to be alone with Tess at that moment. All I cared about was Liz. But it still crossed my mind.

Now, you may be thinking, "Well, I guess old Max is just a guy after all. Says he’s in love with a girl, but when another pretty girl shows him an ounce of interest, he’s all over it." That, sure, I didn’t think it with my brain, but that it was other parts of my body doing the thinking for me.

But, here’s the weirdest part of all. When Isabel suddenly appeared and told me that Liz wanted to talk to me, I literally felt like was I was waking up. Like, for just a minute, I’d actually fallen asleep standing up on the dance floor in the middle of a huge party.

Yeah, so, you can see why I might not have been so eager to call Tess. Something is up with her. And I’m not the only one who thinks so. I told Michael about it when I was at home. The thing with Michael is that he’s not good at talking about the emotional stuff, but he’s great at dissecting the suspicious stuff. In fact, he’s suspicious enough that he insisted that he was coming up for Thanksgiving to, as he so eloquently put it, "check this chick out, Maxwell." Since Iz and I weren’t going home again, because we had used our Thanksgiving flight money for Grandpa’s funeral, he can even do it without everyone thinking it’s weird.

So, why didn’t I tell Isabel any of this? Because she already doesn’t like Tess. I’m not sure why, but she hasn’t really liked her since the first moment she met her. I feel bad about it, because it seemed like Tess might be interested in being friends with Iz at first, but my sister was having none of it. Anytime Iz hangs out at the dorm with me and Alex, she insists that Tess is not invited. The fact that she says this in front of Alex indicates to me that she really doesn’t like Tess. She hates to let Alex see her acting like a bitch.

Anyway, so I told Michael about it. Because, I may be jumping the gun here, but the whole experience was so odd, I’ve almost convinced myself by now that there was something alien about it. I know it’s crazy. I mean, what are the odds that my R.A. is an alien too? But, then, what the hell are the odds that I’m an alien? You see my point.

Actually, I don’t know what about. If Michael agrees that there’s something off, it’s not like I can confront her. What would I say? "Are you an alien too?" I mean, of course not.

I guess what I want is for Michael to tell me I’m crazy. Because I really like Tess. I want to stay friends with her. But, for some reason, I don’t want her to be one of us. I don’t know why. I just don’t. I mean, I guess it should be a good thing if we find someone else like us. But the mere thought of it is enough to freak me out on a level I don’t want to examine closely. I’m pretty accepting of what I am, but I also know that uncovering more people like me is going to open a whole can of worms I’m just so not ready for.

So, in the meantime, I’ve been avoiding Tess, which is a jerky thing to do. But, she hasn’t really been seeking me out either, so maybe it’s not just me. We have all been busy, first with mid-terms, and then the flu I am presently pretending to be stricken with went through the dorm like wildfire. I heard from Alex that Tess was a victim, which wouldn’t seem to support my alien theory, but presently I don’t care. At least, maybe, she’s still not entirely sure I’m avoiding her. I mean, I did send her some DVD’s to pass the time while she was holed up in her room.

But, whatever. My suspicions about Tess will be dealt with all in good time. It’s not Tess I’m avoiding at the moment. It’s Liz. And I don’t even know why. I guess, eventually, even stalkers of the magnitude I can claim to be grow tired of being rejected.

Not that Liz has officially rejected me. But the fact that I haven’t actually laid eyes on her in the past two weeks, in spite of the fact that we are biology partners for God’s sake, would seem to indicate that she certainly doesn’t want to see me either.

I first became aware of Liz’s possible change of heart right after Iz and I returned. I called her the second I got back, and spoke to Charlotte again. (An aside…Why does this girl never seem to go out? She’s always in her room to accept Liz’s messages. It’s very handy, but also kind of weird.) She told me Liz was at the library, so I went there to find her, too excited to see her to wait.

There were a couple of reasons for my eagerness. The first, of course, as always, was that I quite simply adore her. The second was that Maria had spent the entire last night I was home pumping me up about how much Liz liked me. In fact, apparently Liz had even gone so far as to admit as much to her best friend.

Yes, it is true. I swear it. Liz had finally, and without any hesitation, told Maria that she liked me. As more than a friend. I must admit that while having the conversation with Maria at the Crashdown, I felt about twelve, but it was thrilling nonetheless.

I was there to meet Michael after his shift, when Maria came whirling out of the back to say hi. I was momentarily struck dumb when she plunked herself beside me on the stool at the counter, having forgotten how animated Maria is in person. I was used to talking to her on the phone by now, but seeing her face to face still made me a little shy.

Of course, Hurricane Deluca (I didn’t call her that first, by the way. Alex refers to her as such all the time, and it is such an apt description, I have adopted it) doesn’t have time for shyness. Mine in particular.

"So, she likes you," Liz’s best friend told me without preamble. "I’m glad you didn’t listen to me. Because whatever it was you did, she’s gaga."

"I know she likes me," I replied non-committally. I did know who she was talking about, but I didn’t quite know how to respond to her pronouncement, and it looked like she was waiting for something. Plus I wasn’t really sure I was ready to talk about what was happening with Liz and me. It was so new, and I had left so abruptly, and while we had spent the two best nights of my life together, and even though she had sent me that email, I was still a little wary.

But Maria was having none of it. "No, you dope. She doesn’t just like you, she like likes you."

You see what I mean about the twelve year old thing.

"She like likes me?" I demanded incredulously, because I couldn’t quite believe that Maria had said that.

Maria ignored me though, and continued as though I hadn’t interrupted. "I talked to her last night. She told me all about what a great time she had at the party, and about how she couldn’t help but look at you differently after it, and about how you spent like twelve hours up on the roof talking, and about how she can’t believe she ever thought she shouldn’t date you."

I blinked, all of her words so beyond my wildest dreams, I think I was wondering if I was actually dreaming.

But, when Maria reached out to hug me, I knew I wasn’t. "This is like the best news ever, I hope you know."

I couldn’t keep the goofy grin off my face any longer, even as I held onto Maria so we didn’t both go tumbling off the stool in her exuberance. "It is?"

"Well, obviously. You and Liz, me and Michael, Alex and Isabel. We can double…Wait, I guess it’s triple date…whenever you guys are home."

I pulled back and stared at her. It was only then that I noticed Michael glowering at us on the other side of the pass-through. It was weird, and it took me a minute to realize it was because Maria still had her arms around my neck. I quickly disentangled myself from her embrace. "So, what, you’re admitting it now?" I asked, a little taken aback.

"Admitting what?" Maria demanded.

"That’s there something going on with you and Michael."

"Well, he’d never say so, but I do," she replied. She was practically glowing. "He’s a bit spacy, that one, but I know the score." She turned her head and waved merrily at Michael, who scowled at her and disappeared. "Ah, love," she sighed, then grinned. "Ain’t it grand?"

Indeed it was. And, because it was so grand, and because I now had Maria’s report confirming that I was not just imagining things having changed with Liz, needless to say, I was pretty stoked to see her as soon as I got back.

So, I went to the library. Anyway, once I got there, I was standing down in the main desk area, trying to figure out where to start looking. I knew Liz usually studied in the carrels on the third floor, but Charlotte had mentioned that she was there doing some research, so she might not be up there. I was about to head for the elevators, but some instinct made me tilt my head up towards the third floor first. It was completely glass-encased, and I guess I thought I might catch a brief glimpse of Liz at one of the study desks.

It was a good move - or at least I thought so at the time. I saw her almost immediately. Liz was sitting at a table up there, hunched forward across it. I frowned slightly. She looked a little strange. Almost like she didn’t want to be noticed. It didn’t take me long to realize that she wasn’t alone either, and the reason that she was leaning like that was that she was speaking urgently to the person sitting across from her.

Now here’s the weirdest part of all. The person was Tess. There were no ifs, ands, or buts, about it. I’d know that curly blonde hair anywhere, even if I couldn’t see her face, which I could.

I frowned slightly, and only reflected briefly on the fact that it was kind of strange that the two of them were up there together. I wasn’t particularly thrilled about seeing Tess immediately, being as I had already decided to avoid her until Michael came, but I also wasn’t going to let her presence stop me from seeing Liz. I was about to turn away to head to the elevators again, when Liz abruptly turned her head and was staring right down at me.

I know she saw me. I am absolutely positive of it. I even lifted my hand and waved, and she started to lift hers back, before she seemed to think better of it. Because she dropped it as quickly as she had raised it.

Which was why it was so peculiar that when I finally got up there, they were both gone. Completely.

It was so odd that I spent the next half hour searching the library for them, thinking at first that they must have come looking for me, and that we kept missing each other. I mean, that’s happened to me before, particularly when I’m supposed to pick Iz up at the mall. She’s never where she’s supposed to be, and then when I go look for her, we end up going in circles missing each other by ten seconds every time we go back to where we’re supposed to meet. By the time I finally hook up with her, it has somehow become my fault that I left the meeting place at all, not Isabel’s for always being half an hour late.

But I digress. After half an hour, I gave up and went back to Liz’s room. But Charlotte said that Liz never came back. So, I gathered up my nerve and went and knocked on Tess’s door. But she wasn’t there either. Finally, I went back to my own room, sure that at least Liz would come and find me there, but I never heard from her at all that night.

Or the next day, when I called. Or the day after that. And she wasn’t in Bio on Tuesday or Thursday. By the Friday, five days after I got back from Roswell, it was pretty obvious that she didn’t want to see me. When I saw her down the street outside our dorm on Saturday, called out to her, and she ignored me (I absolutely know she heard me - I saw her flinch when she heard my voice), I knew without a doubt.

At first, I didn’t quite no what to do. Needless to say, I was upset, but mostly I was worried. I just didn’t get it. Something had to be wrong with Liz. I mean, she was never in her room, she wasn’t in class, Charlotte had lost complete track of her. Alex was no help, because she seemed to be avoiding him too, although Alex couldn’t be sure since he and Isabel had been so wrapped up in each other since we’d gotten back and he spent more than half his time up at Columbia anyway.

It was because I called Alex at Izzy’s on Sunday, a week after our return, that Isabel finally got wind of what was going on. I had been trying to keep her out of it, because I knew my sister, and I knew what her reaction would be. Not pretty. I also knew that Liz and Isabel had shared a serious conversation on the night that Liz was shot, but I had never known the gist of it. All I knew was that my sister had seemed to be okay with Liz’s knowledge about our secret, and that it had also prompted her to tell Alex the truth the same night that Liz and I spent up on the roof of the dorm. Alex had been a little surprised, but hadn’t really cared one way or the other. He liked Isabel, and that was enough for him. That was just Alex.

Because I’m sure you want more information about Alex’s reaction to this whole thing, all I can tell you is that whatever went down between him and Iz is between them. She’s never told me. As for my own alien status, I did eventually have my own conversation with him about it and it went something like this:

"So," Alex said, while doing a push-up (we were at the gym at the time), "Weird about the alien stuff."

"Yeah," I replied. I paused in the middle of a sit-up, waiting for him to elaborate, and feeling a little nervous. We were completely alone in the gym, because it was pretty late at night, but I still looked around to make sure no one was listening.

"It wasn’t a shock," he said, not looking at me. "No one as beautiful as Isabel can be human. And I’m not just talking about on the outside."

Since this was my sister, and I really didn’t want to comment about that, I didn’t say anything. Besides, the fact that he knew that about her made me extremely happy, and it was just too cheesy to say so.

"I won’t tell anyone," Alex added. "But thanks for letting her tell me. And thanks for what you did for Liz." This was the only point at which our eyes made any contact. I could see sincere gratitude written all over his face.

"You’re welcome," I said. As though I’d had any say in it. I mean, it’s not like there had been any choice. It was Liz. "And thanks."

There was another long silence. I went back to my sit-ups and Alex continued his push-ups.

Eventually he said, "Just so you know, if you ever go back to your home planet, I’m coming."

I stared at him. I swear to God, he wasn’t kidding. "Okay?" I replied.

"Cool."

And that was that. Nothing has changed between us, we still just hang out, and Isabel and Alex still date, and that’s it.

No, it wasn’t Alex who was avoiding me. It was Liz. And, of course, the longer it went on, the more convinced I became - have become - that it’s because she’s scared of me. She’s had time to think about what it means that I am what I am, and she’s decided she doesn’t want anything to do with me, and she just doesn’t know how to tell me. And, see, I even get it. Because I’m doing exactly the same thing to Tess. She kind of scares me now too, and instead of dealing with it head on, I’m avoiding it.

Whether I’m an alien or not, I think Liz would be surprised by how similar we are. I mean, I’ve always known that we’d have tons in common, but this is a little bit ridiculous.

Anyway, Isabel did eventually find out, which is obvious by the fact that she’s now glaring at me, sure that I’m hiding in my bed because of Liz Parker. We haven’t discussed it yet, because I’ve added Isabel to my list of people to avoid over the past two weeks, but I can tell that my sister is furious. Which was the main reason I didn’t want her to find out. Because I know my sister. She had trusted Liz, and she is going to take this as some kind of sign that she made a mistake in doing so.

Not to mention, she is going to realize that this whole thing is eating me up inside, and it is going to piss her off. Big time. When it comes to Michael and me, Isabel is like a mother bear. It’s embarrassing actually, considering we’re supposed to be the guys. One would think it should be the other way around. But it so isn’t.

I don’t think Isabel’s done anything about it so far. I’m sure my sister would talk to me first, before confronting Liz. I am also sure that she is aware that Alex will not be impressed if she uses her alien powers on his best friend. Plus, although Isabel is likely mad, I think she still knows that Liz can be trusted. I think, at this point, she’s just as confused as I am by Liz’s weird behavior, so she’s mostly ignoring it for the moment. Isabel can be trusted to go in gun’s blazing, but when she’s not entirely sure of a situation, and what’s causing it, she, unlike Michael, will wait for more information, nursing her fury until the proper moment for revenge presents itself.

Of course, I’m more scared of Isabel when she’s had time to think about what she’s going to do about a situation. Which is why I need to keep pretending that everything’s fine, even if it isn’t fine between me and Liz. And giving into my depression this morning isn’t helping matters. Which is why I finally manage to pull myself out of bed.

"I don’t get why you can’t just pick Michael up alone," I grumble as I stumble over to my dresser to grab my stuff for the shower.

"Max, he’s spending all his money to come up here to visit us," Isabel snaps back. "The least we can both do is go pick him up. I mean, it’s Michael. The fact that he’s coming at all is huge. He obviously misses us."

Since Isabel is still out of the loop about why Michael is really coming - which is to investigate Tess - I don’t disagree. "Fine, you’re right. Give me ten minutes."

"You have five."

Ten minutes later we’re in a cab on our way to Kennedy airport. Two minutes after that Isabel is grilling me again.

"Okay, so Alex told me Kyle’s coming. What’s going on, Max?"

I don’t reply, just stare out the window, hoping that if I remain mute my sister will just leave me alone. Of course, this technique has never shut her up in the past, so I don’t know why I think the fact that we’re in New York and not Roswell will inspire a change.

"Max, I’m getting fed up here," Isabel tells me firmly. "If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I’m going to talk to Liz. We can’t fool around about this."

I turn my head. "She’s not going to say anything, Iz."

"That’s not what I’m worried about," Isabel replies, her tone softening. "Max, you know it isn’t."

"I know," I acknowledge. "Which is why you just have to leave it alone, Isabel. This is my problem. Besides, Liz has the right to change her mind. She didn’t ask for me to have a thing for her. She didn’t ask me to come here."

"I just can’t believe she’s doing this to you!" Isabel exclaims. "What’s wrong with her? I mean, you’re perfect! She knows your perfect. "

I look at my sister intently. That last bit seems a little weird. I still have no idea exactly what Isabel and Liz talked about on the night Liz was shot, but it seems unlikely that Liz told my sister that I was perfect. I mean, that doesn’t even sound like Liz.

"Isabel…" I trail off meaningfully. Because I know exactly what’s she done. She has totally invaded Liz’s privacy by dreamwalking her. I just know it. Mainly because I know my sister.

Of course she has. There can be no other reason that she’s kept quiet about all this for so long. She has done her own investigating it would seem and she now knows things I don’t.

Isabel meets my eyes, not looking the least bit guilty. "Please, Max. Of course I did it. I had to know if she could be trusted."

"Isabel, you had no right to do that!"

"Excuse me, but if my life - your life too, Max - is in danger, I can do whatever I want to! I can do it for a reason, you know. To protect us!"

It is in that instant that I notice the cabbie eyeing us in the rear-view mirror. It occurs to me that our conversation must be striking him as a little odd.

"You had no right to confront, Liz," I say very deliberately, glancing at the cabbie meaningfully. "I mean, just because she doesn’t want to go out with me, obviously it’s not a matter of life or death."

Isabel catches my drift immediately, and colours slightly. She is aware that she has majorly goofed and she covers masterfully, as is my sister’s way. "The way you’ve been acting, it sure seems like it," she tells me. And I know she’s right. I have certainly been guilty of moping the last couple of weeks. How I ever thought Isabel wouldn’t notice, I have no clue.

"Anyway," Isabel continues. "I know what she told me. Whatever’s going on with her, it has nothing to do with us - all of us, I mean. It’s about you. She thinks she’s doing this for your own good."

Well, that’s news. "Why?" I demand.

"I can’t explain it," Isabel elaborates. "I mean, it’s not a hard science, confronting someone. I just got the impression that she thinks she’s helping you somehow by staying away." She peers at me. "And if you’d told me about all of this earlier, if I hadn’t had to figure it out on my own, then I could have told you this ages ago. I could have confronted Liz ages ago, and you could have dealt with this."

When my sister is right, she’s right. Darn. Trust me not to know when I should trust Isabel. After all, I do know that she always has my best interests at heart.

"And another thing," Isabel continues. "Tess is involved in all this somehow."

My head whips around and I stare at my sister. "What?" Because I have not told Isabel one word about my suspicions about Tess. Where on Earth did this come from?

"I don’t know how, Max, but she is," Isabel replies simply. "She was in there. In the confrontation."

Well, that adds another wrinkle to the problem. My mind drifts back to seeing Tess and Liz together in the library, and how they had both disappeared on me, like the last thing they wanted was for me to see them together. Now that I am looking at it beyond the fact that Liz is avoiding me, it is very obvious that they both were. In fact, are. Because while I’ve been avoiding Tess, it’s not like she’s been seeking me out either.

Why?

This also adds a whole other dimension to the fact that Kyle is coming for a visit. Is this Liz’s way of getting me to back off? By making me think that she’s getting back together with Kyle?

I wonder if Isabel knows anything about that. "What about Kyle?" I ask. "Did Liz say anything about him in the confrontation?" Wow. We’re getting really good at code. Stupid code, but the cabbie is totally ignoring us now. It doesn’t even sound fake anymore.

"Nope," Isabel shrugs. "I don’t know what that’s about, but if she thinks that you belong with Tess…because that’s what everything seems to be implying…it makes sense that she’d invite him up here to turn you off. I mean, it’s what I would do. I asked Alex. He doesn’t know why Kyle’s coming either."

"Yeah, he told me that," I say.

I can feel my mood improving exponentially. Maybe this all isn’t as big a deal as I thought it was. Maybe there is a simple explanation for all of it. I don’t know why Liz has suddenly decided that I need to be with Tess again, but as long as I an actually find a way to talk to her - clearly I’m going to have to corner her, which up to this point I’ve been avoiding doing, because it’s not like I want to force myself on the girl - maybe we can get this all straightened out.

The key is actually getting a chance to talk to Liz. I have to figure out how she’s been so successfully avoiding me. Also, why? Wouldn’t it just make more sense for her to tell me buzz off? This way is just making me crazy. If she had told me that she changed her mind, that she wasn’t interested, I would be devastated, but I certainly wouldn’t pursue it.

Which also gives me hope. It means that she doesn’t want me to back off entirely. Because, if she did, she’d just tell me. Wouldn’t she? I mean, I don’t know much about girls, but this does seem logical. I’ve seen Isabel do as much to countless guys. Liz has never been as direct as my sister, but back in September, when she still wasn’t interested, she’d been pretty clear then that she just wanted to be friends. What was different this time?

The only thing that makes any sense is that she doesn’t want to be just friends, but that she thinks that she should. Again, why? The only answer, again, is that it all comes back to Tess.

And, right there, in the cab, now that I’ve finally stopped moping, and actually started thinking, I make a decision. There is quite clearly something else going on with both Liz and Tess, and they’re somehow in it together. I won’t rest until I find out what the hell it is. And that is all there is to it.

Posted: **Sun Nov 07, 2004 11:30 pm**

Author's Note: Phew! I swear, writing this fic is draining. lol Anyway, here's part 8. I can't look at it anymore. I'm sure there are things I could fix, but whatever.

Part 9 will be up before American Thanksgiving.

Part 8

~Liz~

November 27, 2004 - Journal entry 3 for Dr. Leith’s Creative Connections class

You know, this is supposed to be getting easier. It’s been more than three weeks, but it is still as hard as it was the day I knew that I was going to have to stay away from Max. It’s completely my own fault though. I let down my guard. I let myself recognize what he is supposed to be to me - the one. And, now that I know that it’s not who I am to him, things are ten times harder than they ever had to be.

I should have just kept to my anti-anything-to-do-with-Roswell plan. Then absolutely none of this would have happened. If I hadn’t become friends with Max, then I wouldn’t have been forced to confront the fact that not only was he…er, "out of this world," but that I was also in love with him, and likely had been for a very long time. And I wouldn’t have become friends with Max if I had just remembered that anything to do with Roswell is just bound to screw up my life.

The absolute worst part of it all is that if I hadn’t ever agreed to go out for dinner with him that one time, which resulted in him saving my life, and then in that one magical night dancing with him, and, finally, that one amazing night talking the hours away with him on the roof, with the lights of New York city sparkling below, I wouldn’t even know that, not only do I love him, but he loves me, and that staying away from him is really, really going to hurt him. Is hurting him. After all, Alex just told me so today. Although Alex says that he doesn’t know that for sure, because apparently Max isn’t talking to anyone. Not even Isabel. And I’m responsible for that too - responsible for making him hide behind the tree again, which he admitted to me, that night on the roof, he had always felt like he was doing in high school, because he had to be so careful that no one knew who he really was.

I hate it. I hate that I’m hurting him, and that I’m making him think that the one time he trusted someone enough to open enough, I betrayed him, but I have no choice. It is just something I’m going to have to live with. Because, in the end, I would much rather be responsible for breaking his heart (and my own), than responsible for ending his life.

***

"You’re going to be late." Charlotte pulls the pillow off my head and stares down at me reproachfully.

"I can’t do it," I moan. "I can’t face him."

"You don’t even know that Max is going to be there," Charlotte tells me. "I mean, he stopped calling last week. Maybe he’s avoiding you now too. He knows Kyle’s coming. Alex told him. So he may just not go to the airport at all."

"He’ll be there," I mutter, crawling to my feet. I know how important Michael is to Max. He told me all about it on the roof. I know far too much about Max because of that night on the roof. It’s just making all of this worse, because it all just makes me want to be with him even more.

He’s perfect. And I can’t have him. It’s not fair!

"Well, then maybe you need to accept that you deserve to have to face him," Charlotte snaps.

I glance at her, sighing. She is really pissed off at me about this whole thing. Not that I can blame her. I know I haven’t been the most chipper of room-mates lately, and I also know that she thinks I’m crazy for blowing Max off. But it’s not like I can tell her what’s really going on. I wouldn’t even know where to start. Not to mention, I can’t, because it involves the whole alien angle.

I mean, I can’t even talk about this with Alex, which is the worst part of all. And he even knows Max and Isabel’s secret. But if I tell anyone, I’ll be betraying not only Tess, but Max too, and I don’t even want to know what the consequences might be.

And, so, I’m stuck dealing with it alone. Well, mostly alone, anyway. At least I have Tess. But it’s not like she’s the most comforting presence either. I like her. That’s not the problem. The problem is that she’s the reason that I have to stay away from Max, which sort of complicates the whole "sharing my heart-sick devastation" aspect.

"Maybe." I simply agree with Charlotte, partly because it’s easier, but also because, in the end, I know she’s right. It’s not like I can avoid Max forever. I do have to go back to Bio at some point, obviously. I’ve been staying caught up through Charlotte’s notes, but it’s not fair to make Max do all the lab work. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m already flunking the lab component. He probably stopped covering for me right around the time he stopped calling. Before that, I got two or three emails from him, after every lab at which I didn’t show, telling me what had gone on, and that he had made sure that my part was done. I hadn’t heard a word from him after yesterday’s dissection though. I’m pretty sure that he’s about done with helping me out.

See what I mean about the fact that this should be getting easier? Max is starting to get the picture. He’s backing off. But, with every passing day, it’s just getting more painful. With every passing day I just want to run down to his room and tell him the truth. But I can’t. And I just have to accept it.

"I mean, aren’t you even excited to see Kyle?" Charlotte demands. "After all, you got back together with him."

I lower my eyes. I may have exaggerated exactly why Kyle is coming to visit, in order to get Charlotte off my case about Max. We’re not back together, in case you’re wondering, although I think that Kyle wants us to be. But, officially, he’s just coming for a visit. Totally innocent. I didn’t even invite him. He asked if he could come stay because he’s never been to New York before. Because I still consider him to be one of my best friends, of course I said yes. I said yes back at the beginning of October, before anything ever happened with Max. And now his arrival is just adding to the big mess that is currently my life.

So, by now, you’re probably all wondering exactly what all of this is about. What happened between the night Max and I spent together on the roof and when he got back from Roswell that so changed everything? Well, I’ve mentioned that it has something to do with Tess. Which it does. But don’t blame her entirely. Because it’s not really her fault. She’s just as stuck as I am. In fact, the only good thing to come out of this whole mess is that I have discovered that I was right about something. Well, two things actually.

One, Tess is a nice person. And, two…Well, two’s a little more complicated.

Remember back in early October, before I realized that Max meant a whole lot more to me than I ever thought possible? When I was convinced that he and Tess would be the perfect couple? That they were made for each other? Well, turns out I was completely right.

Here’s the thing. Tess is an alien too. Not only that, but she is supposed to be with Max. Like, they were sent to Earth to be together. I am not kidding. Nor am I crazy. It’s absolutely true. And this is what happened so that I found it out.

Two days after Max left for Roswell, I was just coming out of the library when I saw something that made my blood run cold. Actually, it was someone and my first instinct at the time was to turn of my heel, head straight to the campus police station, and tell them everything. I didn’t even care then that I wasn’t going to be able to explain why I wasn’t dead, if I’d been shot. Protecting Max was quite possibly the last thing on my mind in that exact instant. I’m sure you will understand, once I tell you who I saw, that all of that sort of got buried under terror.

Because the person I saw was the man in black. The guy who shot me. Standing right out in the open on the library stairs, staring at me.

We stood like that for what felt like forever. My brain was whirling, but I couldn’t seem to move, even though a voice inside my head was screaming at me to run, to find the police, to turn him in. That was the logical side of my mind.

Unfortunately for me, the irrational, illogical part of my brain was still functioning too, though, because it suddenly whispered to me, "Who is he? What does he want? Shouldn’t you maybe find out?"

Yeah, curiosity. It’s what makes me such a good scientist. Maybe why I’m an okay writer too. The bad part is that it doesn’t exactly inspire me to do smart things. Because, I literally took a step towards the man in black, before I felt a hand on my arm, pulling me back.

Turning me head, I was only mildly surprised to see that it was Tess. She wasn’t looking at me though. She was staring down at the man in black, a ferocious expression on her face. "Go away," she said, very clearly, and very imperiously.

And, then, much to my amazement, he did. He melted away in a way that sent a creeped out shiver down my spine.

"Are you okay?" Tess demanded, glaring after him. "What did he say to you?"

"Do you know him?" I croaked, my heart pounding at about ten times the normal speed.

"Unfortunately," Tess replied, sighing. "He’s my brother."

My eyes widened and I stared at Tess in shock. And, then, because I couldn’t help myself - in fact, I think I was momentarily outside my own body watching this absurd situation unfold - I blurted, "Did you know that three days ago your brother pulled a gun on me and Max?"

Something I didn’t expect to see flickered in Tess’s blue, blue eyes. Guilt. It was crystal clear to me in that instant that she had indeed known. Which, much to my surprise then, but not now, she actually admitted, "I knew."

I brought my hands up around my mouth and just stared at her. "What on Earth is going on here, Tess?" I finally managed to whisper.

She closed her eyes briefly, took a deep breath, then looked at me again. "I’m going to tell you, Liz. But you have to promise me you’re not going to freak out." She glanced around, then said, "We can’t do it here though. We need to go somewhere private."

"I’m not going anywhere with you!" I exclaimed, finally getting control of my senses again. "Your brother is a complete maniac! And you knew?"

"You’re all right, aren’t you?" Tess demanded impatiently. She glanced around again, looking tense. "Liz, please keep your voice down. People are starting to look."

"I don’t care, Tess!" I replied, my voice lowering slightly in spite of myself. "I want to know what’s going on, right now."

"It’s really very simple," Tess said, finally conceding, when it was clear to her that I wasn’t going to leave the stairs in front of the library. "He was trying to kill you. It never once crossed his mind that Max would heal you, out in the open, in public."

I felt my heart stop. How did she know? How did she know that Max had healed me? Had her brother witnessed it? Was that why he was stalking me now? What did he want? What did they both want? And how could she talk so calmly about her brother wanting to kill me? What was wrong with her?

Tess seemed to see all these questions cross my face, because she lowered her voice, and said quietly, "Liz, you have to trust me. I’m not going to hurt you, and he won’t hurt you again either, as long as you come with me. But what Max did…It’s changed everything. And he’s pissed."

"Why?" I demand. "What does he care?"

"He cares a lot," Tess replied wearily. "Too much." She reached out, touching my arm pleadingly. "Liz, please. Please just come with me."

I looked at her, hard. Her eyes were guileless. I realized that I trusted her. I don’t know why, but I did. "Okay," I agreed. "I’ll come."

Which was how we found ourselves in the stacks at the library, hidden far in the back, holding a whispered conversation that changed everything.

"He’s not really my brother," Tess started off by saying. "He’s…well, it’s hard to explain who he is. Let’s just say that he’s like an older brother. Protective, looking out for my best interests."

I felt another shiver descend my spine, and wondered again if I’d made a mistake in trusting Tess. "How was shooting me in your best interests?" I demanded.

Tess shook her head, rolling her eyes. "He doesn’t understand human emotions. He thought that just by getting rid of you, Max would forget all about you, and be able to move on with me."

I pressed my lips together. "What do you mean he doesn’t understand human emotions?" I asked carefully. It was pretty clear to me by now that Tess somehow knew the truth about Max - after all, she knew he had healed me of a gunshot wound - but I wasn’t going to come right out and say it. I wouldn’t betray him like that. Not on purpose.

Tess raised her eyebrows impatiently. "Liz, c’mon. You must have guessed by now."

"About what?" I knew I was being evasive, but I didn’t care.

"That I’m an alien too," Tess replied, so casually, it was like she was telling me the time of day. "Or at least partly. But my brother isn’t even that. He’s all alien. A shapeshifter."

I felt my eyes widen. My legs felt weak. "I think I need to sit down," I muttered.

"So, sit," Tess said. I allowed myself to sink to the floor between the stacks, still staring at her. She lowered herself too, so that she was seated across from me, her legs crossed. She placed her elbows on her knees and leaned forward. "I’m trusting you here, Liz. You have to promise me that you won’t tell Max."

"What? Of course I’m going to tell him!" I exclaimed. Tess looked around nervously, then glared at me. I lowered my voice. "I mean, he thinks he’s all alone!" I didn’t want to tell her about Isabel and Michael if she didn’t already know. It wasn’t my place to do so. Really, none of this was my place. Of course I was going to tell Max about her.

"Liz, you can’t. Please! If you do, I don’t know what he’ll do!" I could see real fear on Tess’ face.

I felt my heart go out to her. "Who? Your brother? I thought you said he was here to protect you! He’ll hurt you?"

"Not me," Tess explained. "Max. If Max doesn’t do what our guardian wants…" She trailed off, tears filling her blue eyes. "Liz, he’ll kill him."

"I don’t understand," I finally said. I reached out and squeezed Tess’s hand, because she was extremely upset by this point. Heck. So was I. But one of us had to hold it together. "Maybe you need to tell me everything."

And, so, she did. She told me how she, Max, Michael, and Isabel (she did know about Max’s best friend and his sister after all) were half-human/half-alien hybrids. How they had been in the crash of ’47 (like Max suspected, but didn’t know for sure), and how they had been incubating in pods, all four of them together, but Max, Michael, and Isabel broke out of theirs first. Tess was left behind, and her guardian (the man in black) had come for her, and she had lived with him ever since. He sometimes posed as her father, sometimes her brother, but he never left her alone.

She told me about how her guardian was also Max, Michael, and Isabel’s guardian and that he had been looking for them for years. That he had finally tracked them down to Roswell and had arranged for Tess to be enrolled at the same school as Max, because it was imperative that the four of them be reunited, but most particularly Max and Tess.

She told me all of this, and more. It was like once she started, Tess couldn’t stop. The more I reflect on it now, the more I’m sure that she had never - not once - been able to open up to anybody about the truth. It was like a cleansing of her soul or something, telling me the whole, long story.

"But why can’t I just tell Max this?" I finally asked, when she slowed down, obviously needing to take a break. "Why can’t you? You have to know that he’d accept you. He likes you already. A lot. They’ll probably be thrilled to have someone else like them around."

Tess glanced down, sighing. "I wish it were that easy." She looked up, grimacing, then continued, "It’s because of you, Liz. If you didn’t exist, maybe I’d be able to."

I stared at her. "What? Why do I even matter?"

"Because he loves you," Tess replied simply. "And because of it, everything is all screwed up. Our guardian is totally pissed off about it. He thinks it’s my fault. That I should be able to make Max care about me, but I can’t. He’s already in love with you."

"But, I still don’t get it," I told her, because I didn’t. "Who cares? I mean, they’ll accept you. I’m sure of it."

"I don’t doubt that," Tess told me. "The real problem is that it’s not enough. It has to be more than that." She frowned, as though trying to figure out the best way to explain exactly what was going on here. Finally, she just blurted it, because I don’t think she would have been able to say it otherwise. "The thing is, Max and me…We’re supposed to be together. Like romantically."

I felt my heart drop into my shoes. "I don’t understand," I whispered. "Why?"

"Because, it’s what was before. Liz, this is going to be really hard for you to hear. I mean, it’s hard for me to understand, even, but it’s what is. All of us - me, Max, Michael, and Isabel - we’ve lived before. Max was my husband. We were killed, cloned, and sent here in order to become strong enough to go back and free our planet. But most importantly of all, we were sent here to assure the succession. To have children."

I didn’t quite know what to say. It was so beyond my realm of comprehension, all I could do was stare at her, my mouth hanging open slightly.

And, yet, I believed her. She was so deadly serious, I had to. It didn’t hurt that she also reached into her bookbag and pulled out a strange silver book. One that couldn’t be anything but alien. One that had pictures of Max, Tess, Michael, and Isabel in it. Pictures that very clearly showed exactly what Tess was telling me.

Finally, once my brain stopped whirling, several minutes after I’d flipped through the metallic pages, and managed to put together a coherent thought, I said, "The succession? Are you saying what I think you’re saying?"

"That Max is a king?" Tess asked. When I nodded, she nodded too. "Yeah. He lost his throne in a civil war that’s being fought on our home planet. Our guardian’s faction wants to restore the monarchy."

"But then why would your guardian threaten to kill Max? He needs him!"

Tess rubbed her temples wearily. "Sure, he does. But only as long as he can use him to get what he wants. He’s our protector, but he’s also the one who tells us what to do. It was him and his people who brought us back. And if Max isn’t willing to do what they want him to, they’ll just get rid of him and use someone who will."

I frowned. I didn’t even want to think about the idea of anyone "getting rid" of Max, so I ignored that for the moment, focusing on the other aspect of what Tess had said. "But who?"

Tess shrugged. "I don’t know. Michael and Isabel, maybe? Isabel was Max’s sister in our other lives too, so she’s next in line to the throne."

"Isabel and Michael would never do anything for someone who killed Max!" I told her. "I mean, that’s crazy!"

"I know that, and you know that," Tess replied. "But they just don’t get it. They just don’t understand it at all. It’s too human for them, and so they dismiss it. Whether Michael and Isabel would do what they want is incidental. They’d kill Max anyway, just on the off chance that fear would make them fall in line. And if they didn’t, they’d…" She trailed off. "Well, I think you can guess."

I ran my fingers through my hair. I was frightened, and I felt helpless. Why had Tess told me all of this? What good could possibly come of it? All I knew now was that Max’s life was in danger and it was my fault. Because he loved me, and so wouldn’t want to get together with Tess, his life was in danger.

"So he shot me, hoping that Max would turn to you if I was gone?" I asked, trying to truly grasp the situation.

"I guess so," Tess said. "I really don’t understand what he thinks he’s doing half the time."

"But, if we just tell Max this, maybe he’ll try," I suggested. It was breaking my heart to even say it, but who could tell what Max would do if he knew the truth? I suspected that he, and Michael, and Isabel would give up an awful lot to find out the truth about themselves. Who was I to say that Max wouldn’t try to make things work with Tess, if he knew who she was to him?

She had been his wife. I mean, how can I compete with that? It’s impossible! I couldn’t even try. And if he was safe, I’d even be happy about it. Because, finally, after five days of knowing the truth about Max’s origins, it was only then, during that conversation with Tess that I understood just how dangerous Max’s life is. I don’t even think Max understands yet. Of course he fears the FBI, and the government, and all the boogie men he and his siblings have seen in alien movies. But he has no clue about any of this! About past lives, and planets fighting civil wars, and protectors who would sooner kill him than see him fail in the mission he had been set, even though he doesn’t even know the mission exists!

"That’s the other thing," Tess told me. "Our guardian has decided that it isn’t enough for Max to just be with me. He wants him to choose it for himself. To prove to their faction that they will be able to trust him to be the king they need him to be."

"That’s ridiculous!" I said, my voice rising.

"Don’t you think I know that?" Tess demanded. "I mean, any fool can see that he has no interest in me that way. He’s so dead gone on you, I can’t even use my gifts to…" She trailed off abruptly, wrinkling her nose. It was obvious that she had been about to say something she hadn’t meant to.

"What do you mean use your gift?" I asked. "What can you do?"

Tess sighed, then explained. "The other night, at the party, I could tell that something had changed between the two of you. I still didn’t know exactly what had happened. I mean, it was bad enough when Max was just in love with you. It seemed pretty clear that you weren’t interested though. I was just hoping that he’d finally let it go, and everything would work out. But, then, suddenly, it seemed like you were interested. Anyway, when Max showed up at the party, I was going to try to get him alone, to tell him everything. So that, at least, before he went ahead with you, he’d have all the facts."

"What happened? Why didn’t you?"

"He was all upset. Distant. So, I used my gift to nudge his mind a little bit. Just to get him to leave with me. But, the minute he saw you, he broke out of it. I had no chance at all." She lowered her gaze. "He’s totally gone on you. There’s no fighting it."

This statement warmed my heart in spite of everything it meant. I couldn’t help it. I shook my head, forcing myself to focus. "What is your gift?"

"It’s called a mindwarp," Tess explained. "I can make people see things that aren’t there, and I can convince them to do things they don’t intend to."

My eyes widened. "Wow. And he fought that?"

"Yeah." She paused, as though not sure how to continue. She seemed aware of how pleased I was, and it wasn’t making her happy. I tried to erase the dreamy expression I’m sure was on my face at the time. Tess seemed satisfied, because she continued, "Anyway, it was only later that I found out what our guardian had done. He totally screwed everything up. He had no idea that Max would heal you, and then tell you the truth. Now our guardian thinks Max is a loose cannon. He was ready to get rid of him that same night, but I managed to convince him to give me one more chance to get Max to cooperate."

"But now you’re not allowed to tell him the truth?" I finally understood exactly what the guardian was hoping to accomplish by having Max stay in the dark about Tess. He didn’t trust Max anymore, but would if Max chose to be with Tess without knowing about his role on their planet. It all made a twisted kind of sense actually.

"No," Tess agreed.

I looked at her, my eyes narrowed. "So why are you telling me all this?" But I was pretty sure I already knew. And I didn’t like it. Not one bit.

"Because I need your help," Tess replied. She reached out, taking me hand in hers. I could see the desperation on her face, in her very bearing. "Liz, we don’t have a lot of time to fix this. They’re getting impatient. They’ve been waiting fifty years to take us home. If Max doesn’t fall into line, they’ll move on. And they won’t leave any evidence behind. They’ll kill him. I know they will. You don’t understand who these people are. They don’t care what we want. We’re pawns."

"Tess, this is terrible! I can’t just help you to railroad Max into something he knows nothing about!" I replied, my voice low, but my tone firm.

"You don’t have to," Tess replied. "They’re willing to be patient if there seems like there might be a chance that he’ll go along with it on his own. But as long as you’re in the picture, they won’t see it that way."

"So you want me out of the picture?" I said. My heart was in my throat. I could feel tears starting to gather in my eyes. The mere idea of "getting out of the picture"…of not being a part of Max’s life - of Max not being a part of my life - was suffocating. I couldn’t even imagine it, and it had only been five days since I’d realized how I felt about him.

It made me realize that Tess was right. If I was going to do this, it had to be now. Because if it was this painful to even contemplate it after two sort-of dates, I couldn’t imagine what it might be like even a week later, when I’d spent more time with Max. When I’d fallen even more deeply under his spell.

Because that’s what it sort of felt like he’d done to me. Cast a spell or something. He’d put a force on me. There was no other possible explanation for why I felt such an overwhelming need to be with him, and, yet, to protect him at the same time.

"I just don’t see any other way," Tess told me, sounding upset. "I…I know it’s going to be hard, Liz. And I’m sorry about it. But his life is in danger. I swear it is. Maybe, if we give it some time, it won’t always have to be this way…" She trailed off helplessly.

I looked at her closely, wiping away my tears ruthlessly. There was just one thing I needed to know before I agreed. Because Tess was right. If Max’s life was in danger, there was no choice. It didn’t matter how much it hurt, or how much it was going to hurt him. I had to do it. I had to get out of his life.

"I just need to know one thing, Tess," I said.

She nodded with understanding. "Anything."

I paused, then said in a rush, "Do you…I mean, do you think you love him?"

There was a long silence, then Tess replied honestly, "I think I could. I mean, I’ve known about him my whole life. I’ve been waiting to meet him since the day I was born."

"I don’t care about any of that," I told her firmly. "I don’t care if he was your husband before, or any of that alien stuff. I’m talking about Max. Do you think you love him? Even if none of the other stuff existed, would you love him?"

Tess twisted her hands in her lap. She seemed uncomfortable, but finally she nodded. "Yeah."

And it was in that instant that I knew that I had no choice but to trust that Tess Harding was telling me the truth.

Because I believed her.

***

So now you know. You know why I’ve done what I’ve done. Why I’ve completely shut Max out, and why I’ve made myself miserable. I had no choice. I have no choice. And, after three weeks, it seems like Max has finally gotten the picture.

It should be a relief. It’s not. Because, as stated above, every day, it’s only getting harder. I am dreading the moment when I see Max face to face, because I miss him so much, I really think I might throw myself at him, the danger to his life be damned. I’m dreading seeing the hurt I have caused him, because I know I’ll see it, if it’s there.

But that’s not the only thing I’m dreading about seeing him. I’m even more scared that we’ll come face to face and it won’t be there. There won’t be any hurt because he’ll have moved on already. Maybe he just won’t care at all.

I haven’t really spoken to Tess since Max got back. We agreed that we needed to keep a low profile around each other, because we didn’t want anyone to suspect - especially her guardian - that she’d had anything to do with convincing me to stay away from Max. For all I know, they’re already together. For all I know, he now knows who she is, and he’s realized that it would never have worked with my anyway because we’re too different. I mean, she’s like him. He’s got to find that attractive. After all, he must have found something about her attractive because she was the one who sprang instantly to mind when he lied to me about liking someone else back in September. That had to mean something.

Yeah. So you can see why I’m not too thrilled about the possibility of coming face to face with Max at the airport. With the added bonus of having Kyle there. Because that won’t be at all awkward.

Which is why I almost creep into the terminal at JFK. I am fully planning to hide until right after Kyle’s plane lands. I’ll then head straight for the gate, and hopefully he’ll be off the plane before Michael. I can’t imagine that they’re sitting together or anything. I mean, they hardly know each other! Maybe I’ll somehow be able to avoid Max entirely, although this seems unlikely. I fully intend to keep an encounter as short as possible though.

Of course, nothing is ever that simple. Because, when I finally make it to the gate, after the plane from Albuquerque has already landed, Max is, of course, the first person I see. He is seated on a bench, looking tense. But beautiful. In fact, he looks so gorgeous, my mouth becomes dry. Apparently the old adage that absence makes the heart grow fonder is true, because I can’t believe that he was always this beautiful. I mean, I would have noticed. Surely I couldn’t have been oblivious all through high school. What was wrong with me?

I realize abruptly that the only reason he looks more gorgeous than usual is because I’ve missed him. You have to wonder how he so quickly became the most important person in my life. It’s actually kind of weird. But it doesn’t mean it’s any less true.

I see Isabel pacing near the gate, but she launches herself at Michael the instant he gets off the plane, because he appears just as I’m walking up.

But Max doesn’t even move. Because it’s right then that he catches sight of me. His face lights up in a way that tells me that nothing has changed in three weeks. My heart leaps despite myself.

Bloody hell. This is just going to be impossible, isn’t it? He’s going to make it impossible. And the worst part of all is that I want him to. I’m hopeless. This is a life or death situation here. And I don’t even care anymore.

I wonder how I’m going to tell Tess that it’s over. That I can’t do it. That we’re going to have to figure out something else. Because I just can’t do it. I know I wouldn’t feel this way about him if I wasn’t supposed to be with him.

Max stands and is clearly about to make his way toward me. It’s exactly then that I see him. The man in black.

He is standing near the luggage carousel, his arms folded, and he is staring right at me. He has a completely different face, but I know it is him just as clearly as if he had come up to me and told me so. It’s the eyes that do it. They are cold, and hard, and frightening.

I glance around, looking for an escape. I can see that Max notices. His expression darkens slightly, and he pauses, as though he’s not quite sure what to do. Because, of course, he thinks I’m looking so panicked because of him. Because I don’t want to talk to him.

"Liz!"

I turn my head. It’s Kyle. My relief at seeing my ex-boyfriend is so great, my knees actually weaken. "Hi!" I exclaim. I glance over my shoulder. The man in black is gone. I may have even imagined him, but I don’t know that for sure, so I realize that putting on a show right about now is probably a good idea.

It’s actually not even much of a stretch when I throw my arms around Kyle in greeting. After all, I am glad to see him - not just because he’s saving me - saving Max - but because I have missed him.

"Hi back!" Kyle says gruffly. He pulls back, looking me in the face. "You look…" There’s a long pause. I think he has become aware of my frantic expression, because he finishes abruptly, "Great." I know he doesn’t think that at all. I’m sure I presently look mildly insane. Because that’s how I feel.

"You too," I reply sincerely, taking a deep breath. I have to be normal. And he does. Look great, that is. He looks tanned, and healthy. I motion down at the walking cast on his foot. "Except for that of course." I knew that Kyle had broken his ankle a few weeks before, during practice. It was almost better, but he wasn’t playing again yet. It was the only reason he’d been able to come up to visit.

"Yeah, well." He shrugs. "I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for that. I’d have to play this weekend." He paused, then grinned. "Okay, that’s an exaggeration. I’d have to sit on the bench. So, it’s just as well."

"Well, I’m glad you’re here," I tell him. And I mean it. He is going to be just the distraction I need.

I glance around carefully. There is still no sign of the man in black.

I realize though that there is also no sign of Max, Michael, or Isabel. They are gone. My heart falls slightly. Well, apparently my display of affection for Kyle had its desired affect. And not just on the man in black.

As Kyle and I make our way to the cab stand, I’m struggling to hold back my tears.

"Liz, are you okay?" Kyle demands, noticing when we stop to wait for the next available taxi. He is beginning to look really worried.

I smile weakly. "I’m just really glad to see you, Kyle."

"Me too," interjects a familiar voice behind us.

I whirl in surprise. It’s Isabel, and she swoops past me, grabbing Kyle by the arm. "Ride with me, Kyle. We have so much to catch up on."

The next thing I know, Max’s sister has almost physically forced Kyle into a cab, slamming the door behind them both. Michael is already sitting in the front seat. He smirks at me through the window. I stare at him in disbelief.

And then they are gone. The cab screeches away from the curb and I catch a brief glimpse of Kyle staring out the back of the cab at me, looking mostly perturbed, but also mildly frightened.

I turn my head, not at all surprised to see Max standing beside me, staring after the cab, looking about as shocked as I feel.

"Subtle, Isabel," he mutters. He sighs heavily, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. He finally looks at me. "So. Sorry about that."

"What the heck?" I demand. "Is your sister insane?"

"No," Max replies. "Just pushy." He meets my eyes. "She knows we need to talk, and she knew I was going to chicken out."

I stare at him in dismay. It is entirely clear that there is no way out of this. We are going to be sharing a cab all the way back to Manhattan. Because how can I possibly expect Max to believe that I won’t even split the cost of a taxi with him? He’ll just get suspicious, rightfully.

Which means that I am going to have to use this cab ride to put on the greatest performance of my life. Because what choice do I have? The man in black’s frightening face passes through my mind.

There is no choice. Avoiding Max obviously hasn’t worked. So I’m just going to have to flat-out tell him that I want nothing more to do with him - ever.

The problem is, how am I ever going to make him believe it? Just standing here beside him on the curb, waiting for a cab, all I want to do is touch him. It makes me wonder anew how I could ever have thought of him as nothing but a friend. What drugs was I taking anyway? My skin is tingling in a way that I didn’t even know was possible, craving the feel of his fingers.

Well, there are no ifs, ands, or buts about it. As we climb into the taxi together, I know with absolute certainty that the next half an hour is going to be hell.

Roswell Fanatics

I am Not Felicity (AU,M/L,WA/TEEN) Part 10 - July 16 [WIP]

I am Not Felicity (AU,M/L,WA/TEEN) Part 10 - July 16 [WIP]