HypnotiqueBlueEyes
Earth2Mama
begonia9508
nitpick23
Thank you for the feedback everyone! Here's part 10, and Happy Thanksgiving!When everyone is recovered from the turkey, and the shopping, I would appreciate hearing your thoughts.
11. The Truth, a Dare, a Fall from Grace...
West Roswell Junior High – 4 years ago
Katie had a number of guilty pleasures. Some, like her fondness for snicker doodles and her tendency to gravitate towards the same color of sweater wherever she shopped, were easily combated. Her habit of people watching, however, was harder to control.
The teachers’ lounge had the best view of the outdoor lunch area, which made it all the better to see disasters looming in the student body. Such a prime position to observe did nothing to curb her inquisitive nature, but she gave herself a little slack. As a teacher-to-be, she was in the ‘observation’ part of her training, and so she counted her eagerness to watch the lives of the pre-and early teen set unfold as part of getting to know her students a bit more, without the façade they might put on if they knew someone was watching.
She could already pick out the various cliques that made up the social strata of the junior high, and she noted the surprising choices of seat that some of her students had made. There was Tammy Hitchens, usually so quiet in her classes, animatedly telling a story to an interested ring of her friends. And there, easily identifiable thanks to his varsity jacket, was Kyle Valenti, joking around with a group that didn’t seem connected to the variety of sports he played. She silently clucked at herself for falling for the usual stereotypical social conventions, but she hadn’t been all wrong, at least, appearance wise. Michael Guerin, for instance, fit the archetype for class bad boy to a T, with that hair and what appeared to be his default expressions of a scowl or a smirk. She suspected however, that the young man had depths to him that few saw, for he kept them hidden as well as he hid the sketchbook she glimpsed with him on several occasions.
Another group of girls walked out of the cafeteria and into the quad, led by a tall, strikingly attractive blonde girl. Katie watched with a grin as Jessica Thorne sailed through the quad as if she owned the place and then settled on a table in the middle of everything. The numbers at her table grew by leaps and bounds, boys popping up in ones and twos, and then drawing even more girls. Jessica presided over it all, like a young queen in her royal court. Katie could see the pull, as Jessica certainly was very self-assured, or gave a damned good impression of being so, and her looks certainly didn’t hurt either. If popularity was a cloak, the girl had learned to wear it early on, and she wore it well indeed.
An outraged shriek echoed from one corner of the quad, momentarily capturing everyone’s attentions, but seeing as it was just another disagreement between Michael and Maria DeLuca, no alarms were raised. It just wasn’t lunchtime if those two didn’t argue. Maria was the class dynamo, a veritable whirlwind of energy and chatter, adorable looking with her blue-green eyes and bright blonde hair, gifted with the voice of an angel. Sitting by the bickering pair, and steadfastly ignoring them, were Alex Whitman and one of the newer students, Isabel Evans.
Katie was quite fond of Isabel, as they had met in the Principal’s office on both their first days. Being able to calm the nervousness out of Isabel’s eyes had steadied Katie’s nerves too, and so, she had made it a point to check on the sweet girl’s progress from time to time. She was glad to see that she seemed to have fallen in with a good group of kids. Anyone with eyes could see that Isabel was going to grow up to a be a beauty, perhaps one that eclipsed even Queen Jessica, but for now, Isabel’s braces and status as a new girl had barred her entrance into that particular clique, not that she seemed to mind. Alex certainly didn’t look like he minded her company either. The young man had entered his growth spurt early, and so towered over almost everyone in their class. He was one of the few boys who were taller than even Isabel, and he generally seemed to fluctuate between ambitions of being the next software pioneer or the next rock star. Katie knew the boy was exceptionally bright and polite, but sometimes felt uncomfortable in his own skin. Ah, growing pains. She didn’t miss those at all.
She stirred her coffee absently now, and only when the cafeteria doors swung open again, this time revealing a boy and girl, both with dark hair, did she perk up. She knew who they were, of course. Liz Parker, pretty and petite, had generally been acknowledged as every teacher’s dream student-until the tragedy that had taken her parents away had seemed to transform her into their worst nightmare. Thankfully, Katie hadn’t had to teach Liz when she had been in that mood, and now, she looked perfectly pleasant. Word around the water cooler was that it was safe to call on the girl in class again, and there had been a collective sigh of relief about that. Now, Liz was talking earnestly to her companion, who, despite his efforts to seem nonchalant about it, had his eyes locked on her face, apparently enraptured with every word that fell from her mouth.
Katie couldn’t help but grin as a group of girls immediately began to giggle and whisper as the pair passed them by, their eyes fixed on the boy, Max Evans, Isabel’s brother. He was a good looking kid, had escaped the need for braces, and was clearly the object of many a girl’s affections, including…Katie glanced over to Jessica’s table, and was quite unsurprised to see that even the Queen was subtly tracking Max’s every move. Max seemed to have eyes for no one but Liz, however. He had ducked his head closer to hers to tell Liz something that had made the girl break out into a bright smile, and she nudged Max playfully before grabbing his wrist and towing him to where the other royal court of the school sat.
Katie shifted her gaze to Jessica and noted the stiff set of the girl’s shoulders as contact was made between Max and Liz, and as the dark haired pair passed by Jessica’s table, the blonde girl had smirked seemed to call something out to Liz that had her group laughing and the shorter girl sighing, before Liz threw a comment over her shoulder and then dismissed Jessica as if she wasn’t there. The brief interlude had been enough to have Max sending a concerned look between the two girls, but in the next moment, he had allowed himself to be pulled away by Liz, and so had missed the disappointed look on Jessica’s face.
Katie shook her head with sigh. It was apparent that there was no love lost between Jessica and Liz, and it appeared that the situation between the two girls was about to get a lot more complicated, if the longing look that Jessica was now (subtly) sending Max, and the shyly adoring one Max was sending the oblivious Liz was any indication. When these kids hit high school, it would be a very interesting time indeed.
“ Kathleen? How are you doing? Mind if I sit here?”
Katie Topolosky glanced up at Principal Walker and smiled a welcome. “ Please do. I’m doing great, sir. I feel like I’m really getting to know the students.”
“ Oh that’s good. Enjoy it while it lasts, because when they get older…that’s when all fun starts-suddenly they have a smart comeback for everything and the drama…it’s everywhere.”
Liz and Max had joined their friends by now, and even Michael and Maria paused long enough in their bickering to greet the final two members of their little group. Alex immediately engaged Liz in the sheet music he was waving about, while Max had seemed to fall into teasing his sister, who looked none too pleased at having her time interrupted. Across the quad, Katie watched as Queen Jessica watched the other group with an almost wistful look, before she turned her attentions back to her own friends.
Kathleen smiled. “Looking forward to it Sir.”
Current Year
One day ago:
“ What? An eight? You give me an eight for that spectacular dive?”
Adorably indignant. That was the look on his face. Why do all of his expressions always have to be, in one way or the other, adorable? Is it any wonder I’m so…alright. Let’s just forget that particular train of thought, shall we? I smirk. “ I call them as I see them Evans.”
He laughs and splashes at me. I slip through the water to the side to avoid it.
“ Then you, Ms. Parker, definitely need some glasses. “ Max shakes his head in mock disgust. “ An EIGHT! That was an *eleven* at the very least.”
“ Boo hoo, you’re breaking my heart,” I throw back at him. He rolls his eyes at me, and I grin. “ It’s not my fault you can’t dive, Max.” I remind him teasingly.
He snorts. “ Yeah. Keep telling yourself that, Liz.”
“ Thanks. I will.” I wink saucily at him. “ It’s your turn. What pitiful dare are you going to have me do now?”
“ Pitiful, huh?” Honey eyes sparkling with playfulness, he raises an eyebrow at me, bobbing up and down slightly as he floats. “ You think my dares are pitiful?”
“ Did you not hear me say I call them as I see them?” I ask, mimicking his raised eyebrow. His grin widens. Involuntarily, my gaze travels over what I can see of his torso. Moonlight glints off the moisture clinging to his shoulders and chest and I lick my lips in sudden nervousness, the gravity of the situation slamming into me once more.
I’m skinny-dipping!
With Max!
At least we’re not naked, thank God for small favors. I managed to convince Max that getting caught swimming after dark would be bad enough without having to worry about possibly climbing out in the nude in front of the sheriff’s department too. He had to agree with me on that one. None of this changes the fact though, that I am currently in my underwear with the guy I am fighting very inappropriate thoughts about.
Yes, I think we can all agree that this is not one of my finest moments of brainpower.
I glance back into his eyes. The playful sparkle is gone. All that’s left is this… glint. His grin fades. And…and that glint is looking more and dangerous. I know I should run while I still have the chance. Change the subject, distract him, do *anything* to stop him from saying his next words.
But I don’t.
Instead, I just float, helplessly staring into his eyes, analyzing that glint, knowing what it means and yet not doing anything about it. It’s the ultimate game of chicken. He thinks I’m going to buckle, that I’ll change the subject and drag us back from the brink of this dangerous territory.
But I don’t.
And then, in a few seconds, it’s too late. The words come tumbling from his mouth in the barest of whispers. His eyes bore into mine unflinchingly.
“How about the truth?”
In spite of everything, in spite of knowing that somehow, we were going to end up there, my thoughts still center on two sentences.
Uh oh.
This was a big mistake.
Present Day
I’ve heard it said that the truth can be both a wonderful and terrible thing. And going by last night’s events, I’m definitely going to have to agree.
No, I don’t want to talk about it.
I have thought about it, dreamt about it the whole night, so, I think I can be forgiven if I don’t want to talk about it too. All around me, my peers rush by, full of life, full of vibrant energy, knowing where they’re going, while I plod along, lost and confused and looking, I’m sure, like a wreck.
“ Hey Parker!”
What was I thinking? Or maybe the question would be, when will I start thinking? Again. When will I start thinking again. Because I know I used to do it.
“ Parker! Hey, Parker! Wait up!”
I know I did. In fact, if you wanted a thinker, you called Liz Parker. Hell, I’d even think about the purple dinosaur on TV on one of my more obliging days. I stop my depressed plodding and press a hand to my forehead, not caring that I’m attracting some very weird looks. Ugh. I need to get a grip here. Deep breaths Liz. Deep breaths.
I’m cool.
I’m logical.
I can do this.
In the middle of my Zen, images from last night fly fast and furious through my mind, and at the memory of Max’s intense stare, I sigh.
Who am I kidding?
I can’t do this.
“ Parker?”
The closeness of whoever said my name startles me and I drop my hand, staring up into their eyes. The honey gaze so prominent in my mind begins to lighten, to change. They become gray, although the intensity doesn’t diminish.
Jordan.
He’s staring at me with furrowed brows.
“ You alright?”
Breaking eye contact with him, I run a hand through my hair and shrug before looking back and him, a small, polite smile on my lips.
“ I’m…” I pause. “ I’m… breathing. Yeah. I’m breathing.”
“ Breathing.” He repeats, confusion spreading over his features. My smile grows a little wider, a little more true. It’s a little strange to see confusion on Jordan’s face. The boy is really sharp, and very few things, people included actually confuse him. I’ve accomplished the task twice in two days alone, which must be a record. “ Okay.” He continues. He gazes questioningly at me. “ Um, didn’t you hear me? I hollered. Several times.”
I frown slightly. “ You did? I’m sorry. I must be more out of it than I thought,” I mutter, more to myself than him.
“ You do look kind of tired.” He tilts his head to the side, scrutinizing me. I stare back. What is he doing? “Late night?”
My gaze turns penetrating as well and I raise an eyebrow at him. I’m not at my usual best. I don’t deny it. But even in my less than fully-alert condition, there is more than just curiousness under that polite inquiry, something that would displease Jordan enough to put that light in his eyes. It’s one that tells me he knows exactly what I was doing last night and who I was with. Okay maybe not exactly, I would really be mortified if anyone knew the real deal, but he definitely knows who I was doing it with. My steady gaze at Jordan falters.
Wait.
That sounded like Max and I were…and we WEREN’T! I mean… it’s not like the idea is… but…
And you know it, just like that, because of a handful of unfinished thoughts, which WILL remain unfinished, I blush. Glancing back up at Jordan, I see that the curiosity in his gaze had developed into what looks like suspicion, and I squash down the nervous feeling that flutters through me at this. I have enough to think about right now without adding a new complication to the mix.
“ Actually, it wasn’t that late.” I answer, distracting myself from the intensity of his gaze. “ It’s just… I’ve been all over the place lately. It’s a little… tiring.”
“ I’ll bet.” Jordan answers. “Here,” Reaching over, he takes my books. I hear a few murmurs and belatedly realize that we’re in the center of attention. I shake my head at this, because it’s really not that earth shattering that we’re talking, but from the way some would tell it, it’s practically a gang war between Jessica’s friends and mine. It’s completely laughable, because that is the furthest thing from truth. The gang war thing; that she and I do not get along? That’s just fact. Back in the present, I focus on Jordan, and ignore the speculative looks. He sends a wink my way. “ Saving you some strength, right?”
“ Um, thanks. But I’m headed to English. And you are…” I trail off, realizing that I don’t even know his next class. Max, on the other hand, would be heading off to history right about now. “Where are you going?”
“ English.” He places his hand on the small of my back and gives me a gentle push in the general direction of class. “And we have about,” A pause as he glances at his watch, “ eight minutes to get there.”
“ I didn’t know we had English together.” I say, frowning slightly, letting myself be herded along. “ In fact, I’m sure we don’t have English together.” Suddenly aware of the presence of his hand on my back, I can’t help but remember that this is a very Max-like move. It’s… well, it reminds me of him. I roll my eyes. Like every other thing doesn’t? Clearing my throat, I focus my attention back on Jordan. He’s grinning slyly, eyes dancing with mischief. I purse my lips. Enough of surprises. I’ve had enough to last me two lifetimes.
“ Alright. What did you do, Jordan?”
“ Just what I told you I would do. I need a genius, remember?” He nudges me, and I recall our previous conversation with a nod. “ You, me, help in English?”
“ I…you actually got them to shift you into my class?”
“ Hey, Coach takes the academic success of his athletes very seriously, Parker.” As he ushers me down the hallway, someone calls out a greeting to him and he responds with an easy grin. “ And…I’m finding that there are other attractions in the class too.”
Attractions, huh?
I glance up to see him staring down at me with an impish look in his eye. I really should just let that one lie, I can live without clarification on that detail. I really can. I’m trying to convince myself of this, telling my stubborn head that it does NOT need more things to think about, but apparently, my inner psyche is desperate to think of anything else other than Max for at least a few moments because I find myself asking the question anyway.
“ Such as?”
A pleased grin settles on his face, as if he’s glad that I decided to come out and play after all.
“ Isn’t it obvious?”
Our stares lock. The air grows heavy and my heart starts to pound irregularly. I look away.
Isn’t it obvious?
I don’t even want to THINK of the implications of this. I now wish I hadn’t asked, because it looks like I have yet another curveball to deal with. Jordan stays at the front and hands the teacher a note, and I continue on through the aisles. As I slouch into my seat, I close my eyes briefly in the hopes of beating back my pounding headache. It doesn’t work.
Oh, hello there chaos. My name is Liz. I think we should get to know each other, because it looks like we’re going to be stuck together. For a very long time.
******************************
One day ago:
“ The truth?” I echo, uncertainty ruling my expression.
He nods. “ The truth.”
This is bad. This is very, VERY bad. And going by his whole demeanor, his behavior, his *eyes*, I have no doubt that I will not escape this without answering a few questions, which sucks, because I am not prepared to answer any of them. And yes, OKAY, I am more than a little scared. As if sensing my panic, a dark eyebrow raises. A statement provides me with a way out.
“Unless of course, you don’t want to.” Max says.
Stunned and immediately suspicious, I narrow my eyes at him. The glint becomes more pronounced than ever. And more than ever, I want to play his little game and come out without a scratch. “ And why wouldn’t I want to?” I challenge.
“ Maybe because of a little something called fear?”
Damn it. He knows. He knows!
“ And you would know all about that, wouldn’t you Max? I mean, it is *you* who never quite managed to talk to *someone* wasn’t it?”
Even as the words leave my mouth, I regret it. I regret it even more when I see him imperceptibly stiffen. Ohh, that was such a low blow! When did I become such a mean person? He recovers quickly, sending me a grin that looks more plastic than my credit card.
“ And aren’t you the one who hasn’t been able to tell me the truth for the last couple of weeks?”
Ignoring the truth of his words, my eyes flash.
“ What are you talking about, Max?”
Brave words, but inside, I am quaking. I’ve been so careful, he couldn’t possibly have seen, could he? Could he know how I really feel about his new relationship? How I feel about him?
“ I‘m talking about how it seems that I can never get a straight answer from you anymore. When I ask you if you’re okay, if nothing’s wrong, you say-”
“ I say that I am! That nothing’s wrong! Because I *am* Max. I am. And *nothing* is wrong.”
Lies. So many lies. Panic is streaking through me now, drawing forward words that are intended to ward off his questions, to hide the truth I was so sure that I had been successful at keeping from him. Clearly, I was mistaken.
“ Then why do your eyes tell me different, Liz?” He swims closer to me, voice soft and urgent. “ Why do they tell me one thing when your lips say another? Why don’t you laugh like you used to?”
So close. So achingly close. I can feel his breath on my forehead. Cold, wet, fingers grasp my chin and tilt it upwards.
“ Why aren’t you living, Liz? Why is it that you act like… you’ve lost yourself? Like you’re not complete?”
I’m hoping he’ll buy that the moisture shimmering on my eyelashes is from the water and not from my tear ducts. I swallow. And I answer his question with one of my own, a truth that it seems I have unconsciously been denying to myself.
“ Why do you?”
Present Day
“ So how about it Liz? You get extra credit, not that you need any, but it’s always a good thing to have a safety net. And as a bonus, you even get the warm, fuzzy feeling that comes from helping out a person in need.”
I stare blankly at my English teacher, struggling to piece together what she said. I’m at the front of the class, having been summoned there to talk to her. Unfortunately, several large parts of my mind are still reviewing everything that went down last night, and are very reluctant to come back to earth. I have no choice but to wing it.
“ Absolutely.”
“ So you’ll do it?”
“ Uh…” I don’t know what to say. What if I agree to something completely embarrassing like, like…a poetry reading or something? Because I am terrible at poetry, I am honestly awful at it. There is a reason I am the drummer and not the song writer in our little band. The one time I put pen to paper for lyrics, I came up with a beauty that had words like ‘wow’ rhyming with ‘ka-pow’. Alex and Maria decided to frame it for posterity, kind souls that they are. My lack of skills aside, and seeing my teacher’s expectant look, I crumble. It’s my entire fault if I do agree to something like that anyway. And hey, maybe I’ll gain new perspective while doing…whatever it is. “ Yeah. Sure. Why not?”
“ Excellent!” Mrs. Thomas says, beaming at me. “ I’m sure you’ll have him up to standards in no time!”
I smile and nod inanely, Jordan steps out from behind her, smiling at me.
“ Hey partner.”
Partner?
Uh oh.
***********************************
The day progressed in great dollops of time. I have reached a point where I am just…hiding from the world now. It’s a great plan, and I have the perfect hiding spot. Now if only I could apply that word to other areas of my life too.
“ Liz? My mom said you were here.”
I turn at the sound of his voice, and nod and smile at Michael as he walks in.
“ She said I could wait here. Do you mind?”
Here, is a spacious studio Michael’s parents built for him two years ago. It doubles as a guest bedroom when it’s cleaned up but usually, it’s our secondary practice room.
“ No.” He answers shortly. “ Have I ever?”
Michael drops his books on the floor by the door and that is the end of that. I can tell he’s curious about my presence here, especially since I have well and truly been avoiding any opportunity that could call for long discussions, but this is one of the many great things about Michael. He knows when not to push. For now, he appears to have let his questions go and he walks towards me, nodding at the canvas I’m looking at.
“ It isn’t finished yet.”
I return my gaze to the portrait that’s taking shape in front of me. Michael’s blended together the four elements, fire, ice, earth, water, things that make up the world, the day, the night, into one very familiar looking face. It’s amazing.
“ It looks good Michael. What’re you calling it?”
His eyes soften; a sparkle begins to dance in their dark depths. I know the answer before he speaks.
“ Maria.” He says softly, whispering it like a secret. I get the symbolism of the painting very well. Michael isn’t what you’d call very good in expressing his feelings with words but he often manages to find ways to make up for it. And with this painting, he’s essentially saying Maria makes up his entire world. With sentiment, not to mention talent like this, who needs words? Maria will definitely be over the moon about it. She’s forever asking him to paint something for her.
“ I would never have guessed.” I tease lightly, getting a kick out of watching red stain his cheeks. He ignores it though, and I do too, choosing to ask, “ Is this what you’re giving her for her birthday?”
“ Yeah. If I can get it done by then.” He says, donning his apron and starting to mix his paints. He casts a quizzical look at me, and I get the picture that he’s dying to ask me questions loud and clear, but he doesn’t push. I’m thankful.
There is one way, just one way in which Michael and I are very much alike. It’s how we deal with emotions. I’m not talking about those every day types of emotion that make you laugh at sitcoms or cry at sad endings. I’m talking about those major ones. The ones that make you feel as if you’re not quite sure if you’re standing or sitting, moving or still. The ones that have the power to change your life. Michael and I, we’re wall builders. Sure, I concede the title of master builder to him, but mine are still pretty impressive. And only a fellow wall builder is going to be able to help me out with this one. Because when my wall breaks… it’s not going to be pretty. And I have the feeling it’s going to reach the breaking point any minute now.
“ Hey. I asked if you wanted to paint?”
I blink. Michael’s holding out a spare apron towards me. An empty canvas is sitting on an easel next to his. I wonder how long I’ve been zoned out.
“ Um, yeah. Sure.” I grab the apron and follow him and after a minute, Michael positions the palette on a stool between us. I choose a brush with nice, thick bristles. I’ve heard painting is good for the soul. Time to test that theory. So while I’m busy making a mess, not really caring what I’m doing, I see Michael watching me out of the corner of my eye. The damned worried look that irritates me so much is claiming his features and I sigh.
“ Michael, if you continue to watch me instead of that beautiful painting of yours, you are going to ruin it, okay?”
He starts and then frowns.” You’re right. This is supposed to be a happy painting anyway. You’re killing the mood.”
“ That hurt, bro.”
He carefully removes the half finished painting and places it on a shelf far away from where I’m vigorously attacking my canvas. All I see is color. Vibrant splashes of blue. Greens. A more ominous black laced in between. They all swirl together, creating something that looks suspiciously like water draining down a hole. And right in the center of it all is a figure of a girl. With long dark hair. Hands pressed over her face in an effort to shield herself from the glaring colors. From life. From pain. I lay my paintbrush down and stare.
“ Liz?”
“ What do you think, Michael?” I ask monotonously, still staring at the too bright monstrosity.
The wall is cracking.
The wall is breaking.
“ Think it portrays insanity enough? Being torn?”
“ Liz, are you okay?”
Four words. Well meaning, concerned words. That’s all it takes to finally send the last of the bricks toppling over. My bottom lip begins to tremble. Damn it, I don’t want to cry. I capture it between my teeth but it still continues. And then all of a sudden, tears start streaming down my face. My shoulders begin to heave. I begin to wail. And all of a sudden, I’m feeling warmth. Michael’s enveloped me in a hug and I clutch his shirt desperately, burying my face in his shoulder, letting the tears flow. There’s despair. Anger. Confusion. I don’t know anymore.
“ Um…it’s okay, Liz. Just, uh… let it out?”
I would laugh at Michael’s attempt at comforting me right now, it’s clear that my tears and hysteria are freaking him out. But I feel too bad to do it. All I really want to do right now is cry. So I do.
“ It…it…h-hurts, Michael.” I whimper, hating myself for sounding so pathetic and yet feeling relief that I’m finally, finally diffusing some of my pent up emotion.
“ Sshh. It’s okay. It’s okay.”
He leads me to the couch and gently sits me down, wrapping a comforting arm around my shoulder as I continue to cry into his chest. When I finally stop and look up at him, he has the most pained look on his face.
“ Uh… should I call Maria? Alex? Isabel?” He wisely decides to leave out a certain individual’s name.
Go Michael.
I shake my head and grab a throw pillow, drawing my knees to my chest and hugging it to me like my life depends on it.
“ Okay. Guess it’s just you and me then short stuff.”
My voice warbles pathetically as I sniff out my next words.
“ I’m sorry about your shirt.”
“ Don’t be. Maria cried on it the first six times we watched Titanic on video. It’s used to it, trust me.”
I sniff again and nod at his words.
“ So. Let’s talk. Because last time I checked, Liz Parker didn’t cry.”
I rub away the traces of my tears, lifting my chin. “ That…that wasn’t crying. That was… hysteria.”
“ Right. So what brought it on?”
I groan and flop back onto his chest, hiding my face.
He reads the groan and the way my face crumples up correctly.
“ Max?”
I nod miserably.
“ What happened?”
The question transports me back to last night. To the moments after my question was asked…
Max closes his eyes in surrender. My heart constricts.
“ Max? Why do you?”
I have to know this. I have to know if the suspicions that he’s not happy are based on something real and not just a figment of my imagination. I need to know that I’m not unconsciously giving myself reasons to try to break Max and Jessica up. Because if I am, then I’m going to have to stop. I’m going to have to do whatever it takes to distance myself from them and get myself under control.
But what if I’m not?
Max opens his eyes and what I see knocks the breath out of me. And I thought his eyes were dark on the night we slow danced? Tonight, they don’t even compare…
“ Max?” I squeak.
“ You want to know why? I’ll tell you why. It’s because even when I’m with Jessica, even when we’re having the best time… I still think about you, Liz. I worry about you. I worry because you’re not acting like yourself. I worry because you don’t act silly with Maria and Alex anymore. I worry because you don’t fight with Michael anymore, or shop with Isabel or just smile. I worry because every time I see you, it’s like it’s not YOU, Liz. It’s like some other person is in you.” He takes a deep breath. “ I want the old Liz back.” He confesses.
I swallow. How is it possible that even after all my efforts to hide this from him, he still sees this, still knows me better than anyone else seems to?
“ And what if she’s gone? What then Max? What if she’s gone forever?”
It is at this point that it occurs to me that there is now less than two inches separating us. But suddenly, this isn’t important anymore. I realize that all the distance in the world isn’t going to help now, what with the way I’m burning inside to just touch my lips to his. This is the ultimate test. Where I choose to stand. Or where I choose to fall.
“ The I’m just going to have to find her,” He whispers fervently. I can feel his breath against my lips. “ Because without her,” I gaze up into his eyes. “ I’m not sure I *can* be complete.”
Well that’s that.
Guess what I choose?
That’s right.
I choose to fall.
….and it all starts with a kiss…
“ So you kissed him.” Michael says, offering me some more nachos. During the course of my very long, halting explanation, I somehow managed to stop breaking into tears every few seconds and now we’re pigging out on junk food and soda. There’s a faintly pleased note in Michael’s voice which I file away for future reference. “ What’s so bad about that?”
I flinch.
“ You want to know?”
“ I may as well. I know everything else.”
I glare. He puts up his hands in surrender.
“ Okay. Seriously. I want to know.”
I swallow. I look down. Here’s where tears come into my eyes again, but they don’t fall. I refuse to let them fall.
“ I said… I said it was a mistake.” I glance up at Michael. He looks shocked. “ And then I ran away.”
************
It’s funny. Sometimes, I just sit and wonder… what do they really mean when they say, ‘ the pen is mightier than the sword’? …I know it goes something like that, but really, what’s the meaning behind it all? When I was younger, I used to puzzle over this for hours at a time. How could one flimsy, little pen possibly stand up against the much bigger, badass sword? Physically impossible, unless it was some sort of new unbreakable pen. At least, that was my conclusion back then.
Now, just like a lot of things…it’s different.
Now I know, it’s not what the pen and the sword look like that make up the meaning behind that phrase.
It’s what they do.
Consider this. A sword can kill, say, a dozen or so people when used right. A pen can kill millions. Just by the simple act of being used to sign a signature on a piece of paper, the pen can condemn a whole city to death. It’s as easy as that. Consider this too. While a sword can be used to threaten, oh say, a village or two, a pen, on the other hand, can decide the futures of a country and generations to come.
And then I realize something else. It’s not the pen that’s mightier than the sword. It’s the words that the pen writes that hold all the power. It’s all about the words. The words that are written on that piece of paper the pen is going to sign. It’s the words that decide the future. That can lift you up and make you feel invincible. That can crush you and all your hopes and dreams in one fell swoop. And now that I’ve established that words hold so much power… who was it again who came up with that phrase, ‘Sticks and stones may break my bones but words never can’? Because I may just have to intervene here. Words may not break your bones but they can do something worse.
They can break your soul.
Panic starts to rise within me.
Oh. My. God.
I can’t…I’m not ready for this.
“ Are you ready for this?”
The speaker is Michael, and he’s staring at me from his spot on the pavement where he’s just dismounted his motorcycle. I’m still frozen on the seat and slowly, I turn my head to face him.
“ I’m ready. ”
And yes, the owner of that calm, steady voice is me.
Michael nods and walks away, obviously buying that very bald faced lie. Sigh. When I become such a good liar, I’d like to know? He turns back when he doesn’t hear me following and frowns.
“ Liz. What the hell are you still doing there?”
Banishing the thoughts that are turning my legs into jelly, I remove my helmet and shoot him an irritated look.
“ I’m coming, I’m coming. It’s not like the Crash is going to run away or something.”
“ Yeah, yeah. Whatever. C’mon let’s go. We’re going to be late.”
“ Since when did that ever bother you?” I grumble under my breath, following him at a snail’s pace. Y’know, for someone who just said she was ready a minute ago, I don’t seem very ready. Wonder what that means? I glance up when I don’t hear Michael’s footsteps ahead of me to find him watching me intently, his trademark scowl on his face.
“ What?”
The scowl fades and is replaced by an uncertain look. Uh oh. He’s going to talk about…that.
“ Liz…he’s going to want to talk about it, you know.”
I swallow. “ I know.”
“ Right. And last I heard you hadn’t exactly figured out what you were going to say to him.”
I glare at him, an action that deflects my attention from my trembling heart.
“ I’m aware of that, Michael.” I snap. I swallow, and my gaze softens. I have no right to be angry at Michael. After all he’s done for me… “ I’m sorry,” I whisper, looking down at the ground and wondering, when exactly did everything start going down the tubes? “ I’m just…it’s just…”
“ Don’t sweat it short stuff.” He nods in understanding. No one in our group knows better than Michael about the pressures of not being able to express yourself emotionally. It’s an after effect of the wall, you see, it can be a curse and a blessing at the same time. Because of it, nothing can hurt you emotionally. You’re safe guarded from the world. But then again, you can’t feel much of anything either. Ah well. Nothing is perfect.
I would’ve happily gone on in this depressing train of thought had I not suddenly yelped, because apparently, Michael has decided that now is as good a time as any to grab my head in a headlock and drag me to the back room of the CrashDown. “ It’ll come to you.” He says reassuringly.
And I would be reassured, if I wasn’t trying to fight my way out of something I thought Michael had left behind in seventh grade.
“ Michael! Stop it! Ow!”
“ Aw, c’mon Liz, don’t be such a lightweight.”
“ When I get loose I am seriously going to hurt you!” I holler, twisting every which way.
“ Oh, I’m scared,” He snorts.
“ Fine! I’m going to tell Maria about the portrait then!”
I’m released immediately and stumble from Michael and turn to face him. Ah. Sweet, wonderful air. I massage my neck and stare balefully at Michael, who’s scowling at me.
“ Lighten up, would you Liz?”
I take a deep breath. I know that in his own warped way, that headlock is Michael’s way of trying to get me to relax, to calm down. Did I mention that underneath that gruff and badass exterior, Michael Guerin’s a big, teddy bear? He really is. I feel a surge of affection for him and I speak before I’m too embarrassed to say what I want to.
“ Michael, about today…thanks for everything.”
He nods, understanding all that I want to convey in those six words. “ Sure.”
I bite my lip and plow on. “ And uh…thanks for not…telling anyone. I’ll do it…later.”
“ Right.”
“ Okay.” Another deep breath. We both look at the door that will take us into the back room of the CrashDown.
Silence reigns.
“ If you’re not ready…”.
“ Let’s just get this over with.” I say grimly. “ I have to face him sometime.” Faking bravado is better than shaking in real fear any day. “ And if you ever do a headlock on me again,” Here it comes folks. The threat to end a life just so I can add a little more bravado into my fear ridden armor, “ I’m going to kill you.”
The door leading out into the alley suddenly opens.
“ Get in line, chica.”
At the sound of Maria’s voice, we both freeze. Michael has this ‘oh-crap’ expression on his face and the one on mine is just…well, considering she just took away half my life span, it’s not pretty.
Does she even notice?
Uh, this is Maria we’re talking about. In true DeLuca fashion, she immediately launches into a tirade. You have to love her.
“ Where have you guys been?” Before I know it, Hurricane DeLuca is on the warpath, marching towards us and dragging us inside, to our lockers. “ It’s a complete nut house out there, complete with the customers from the seventh level of hell and Dina is just about to go totally postal, not to mention that Ben is threatening to start burning the orders if Michael doesn’t get in there, and Agnes is no freakin’ help at all!!”
One day, I am going to have to task Maria how she manages to say ten thousand words in just one breath. Because, when you ignore the mind boggling confusion it invokes, you gotta admit, it’s just too cool.
“ Then why aren’t you out there helping?” Michael says with a scowl, removing his jacket and tossing it into his now open locker, grabbing his apron and donning it with quick, irritated jerks.
“ I’m on a break, space boy.”
“ Huh. And I’m betting that that’s exactly what Agnes would say too.” He says. I grin. He’s baiting her. And by the way her eyes are darkening, she’s taking it, hook line and meltdown.
“ You know what? NEVER MIND, Michael! I have precisely 4 minutes and counting BEFORE I have to go back into purgatory and back to serving the minions of Satan and I’m not going to waste them by arguing with you!”
Michael by this time, has finished tying a bandana around his head. He smirks at Maria.
“ Actually, you just did. And guess what? You only have…two minutes and counting left.”
He saunters off, leaving Maria incredibly incensed and me recovering enough from my giggles to vacate the room and change into my own uniform. As I change, I wait for the impending shriek.
“ MICHAEL GUERIN, YOU ARE A COMPLETE AND TOTAL ASS!”
Grin. Actually, Maria’s edited the content of that shriek quite a bit. Usually, it’s much more colorful. Fastening the last of the snaps, I re-enter the break room from the changing room to find Maria sniffing her oils like it’s going out of style.
“ All better?” I ask innocently.
Maria waves a hand in the air. “ I wonder… why do I put up with him?”
“ Because you’re madly, insanely, totally head over heels in love with him.” I answer calmly, arranging the antennae I’m hoping to get my uncle to drop the next time he decides to remodel the uniforms on my head. “ And because you know he feels the same way about you.”
This settles her, and a smile overpowers the frown on her face.
“ Oh yeah.” Then she shakes her head, in the process, shaking away the dreamy look on her face. “ You alright? We missed you at lunch today.”
That would probably be because I spent lunch hour in the library. Oh well. I nod and smile sheepishly at her.
“ Sorry. I was in the library.”
“ Ah.” Blue green eyes twinkle at me. “ Last minute research, huh?”
Uh huh. She’s being waaaayyy too understanding about this. Immediately on alert, I give her a cautious smile. “ You could say that.”
“ Right. So listen. You and me. A bowl of ice cream. Tonight. What do you say?”
I want to say no. I REALLY want to say no. The results of our LAST ice cream talk weren’t exactly…uh…well, at least it was everything I had expected. I nod and smile again.
“ Sure. I’ll grab the ice cream. You get the toppings okay?”
“ Excellent.” Maria agrees, flashing that dimpled smile.
The break room door opens just then, revealing an exhausted and very disheveled Dina, who’s mumbling something about ‘demons from the underworld’. I glance at Maria’s sympathy filled face as Dina stumbles over to the couch and plops wearily down on it. The sympathy immediately turns into a grimace as she looks out into the eating area of the café. I’m sensing hesitation here. Exactly which or maybe, WHAT customers do we have?
“ Maria. Is there something I’m missing here? I mean, The Crash isn’t usually that busy on a week day.”
Maria sighs and takes my arm.
“ Yeah, well, we usually don’t have to deal with,” She pauses as she throws the door open with a flourish, giving me my first good look at the chaos lucky Dina has just escaped from. “ A field trip from the retirement center and an orthodontist’s convention at the same time. And that’s not even counting the fact that apparently, THIS is the night, out of all nights, that every family with at least five kids decided to pick THIS café to eat at.”
Yep.
It’s a nut house, alright.
I groan as I grab an order pad and march to the nearest table that’s hollering for attention.
It’s going to be a long night.
“ Hi, welcome to the CrashDown, my name is Liz, I’ll be your waitress for today. What drinks can I get
you, or would you like to order now?”
“ It’s about time!” The red haired lady in front of me snaps. She’s cradling a squalling infant in her arms while the man across from her, undoubtedly her husband, is beseeching a fidgeting toddler to sit still. Okay. I can handle this. I beam at her with my patented, I’m-a-happy-waitress smile and diligently take their orders while she and her hubby make waspish remarks about the ‘service’ here. But that’s okay. I can handle that too. It’s only when I feel a wet, squishy substance being emptied into my shoe, and look down to see ANOTHER toddler, identical to the first, pouring mustard all over my feet, that I think about amending that statement.
“ Well? Are you going to go or not?” The man scowls.
Oh yeah.
It’s going to be a very long night.
*******************************
“ Miss, we’d like to order now!”
“ Waitress, this isn’t what I ordered!”
“ Can we get some service here!”
“ Miss? Miss!”
There’s just nothing like dealing with the CrashDown gone mad WITH a perpetual smile in place to take your mind off certain… things. I shake my head. The clamor of obnoxious voices has permanently damaged my hearing, I swear! I cannot believe this hasn’t died down yet. I mean, seriously, the people with kids are STILL here, haven’t they ever heard of something called bedtime? My uncle and aunt on the other hand, are over the moon about the number of people who are terrorizing their staff. I wonder if they would be willing to hand me a raise if I ask for it now?
“ I’ll be right there, sir,“ I hear Maria say in a strained voice. I’ll bet you anything that a gargoyle grin has replaced her usually bright smile. And then all I hear are heavy stomps, going to the pickup window.
“ Michael, WHERE is that galaxy sub?!” Maria half-yells, on the verge of shrieking.
She is definitely NOT a happy waitress. Hell, she’s not even a happy Maria. Not that I would be happy if a juvenile infant spilled soda all over me as I was serving the ungrateful little squirt, resulting in an unsightly stain on my uniform, but I can’t worry about Maria right now. I have my own sanity to think about.
“…twenty six, twenty seven, twenty eight…”
I fight the urge to glare at the woman in front of me, a woman who is dead resolved on testing the limits of my patience and goodwill by INSISTING she pay exactly the amount she was charged, which means she has to count out PENNIES to make an exact fee of ten dollars and fifty-two cents. Meanwhile, other customers are shooting me dirty looks, no doubt thinking that I am the worst waitress ever, depriving them of their daily fix of CrashDown fare by just standing still and smiling inanely at this lady in front of me.
Whatever.
Obviously, they can’t see the muscle twitching in my right temple, proof of my furious headache and my urge to just chuck this lady out of the café. Plus, there is still mustard in my shoe. Did I mention that?
I take a deep breath and hitch up the compulsory smile that’s threatening to crack my face off.
“ Ma’am, we DO have change here. It’s not necessary to-”
“ …thirty, thirty one, thirty two…”
…did she just ignore me completely? She did. She ignored me completely. To hell with the customer always being right, I’m going to-
Two dimes fall on the pile of pennies in front of me, and a male voice says,
“ And here’s two dimes to bring the total to ten dollars and fifty two cents. Thank you for visiting the CrashDown, please come again.”
And then she’s gone, being ushered away by the angel of mercy who provided the blessed two dimes. I think I’m gaining a whole new appreciation of dimes. I think I may even start up a dime appreciation day. I look up, relief drawing out my first genuine smile since…whenever, ready to say a heartfelt thank you to whoever rescued me when I freeze.
I’m…I’m not…I’m not ready for this.
“Max.”
He doesn’t say anything and after that embarrassing little squeak that came out of my mouth just a second ago, I choose to remain silent too. So now, here I am staring at a person yet again, but this time, I’m not fighting the urge to glare. I’m not quite sure what I’m fighting, although, I have a sneaking suspicion that it’s my urge to flee, but I’m pretty sure I’m losing the battle. In a desperate attempt to find something to say, I cast about and my mind lands on the fact that the last time I saw him was when he was in his underwear. And let’s not even go to the fact that it was vice versa.
Oh god.
And yes, folks, I’m blushing.
“ Um…hey. Thanks for…you know. H-How’s it going?”
Why is he just standing there? Didn’t he hear me?
“ Max?”
Max stares at me intently for a while longer before nodding his head. And shooting me a fleeting half smile. I mean, I think he did. It barely touched his lips so I can’t be sure…his lips? I’m thinking about his lips? …STOP IT! Stop it, stop it, stop it!
“ It’s good.” He answers quietly.
“ Oh okay. Good. That’s…good.”
And we’re in awkward silence land. I’ve never actually managed to figure out what’s worse. Is it the staring or the awkward silence? Maybe it’s a combination of the two. Maybe it’s a combination of the two while you’re standing in a busy as all get out café… or maybe…
“ Liz. About last night.”
Or maybe it’s when the person you’re trying to not fall for brings up a moment of weakness when you kissed said person that’s the worst thing of all. Damn it. It looks like my time is up.
Forcing my gaze to meet his, I notice something strange. Max’s eyes…they’re not…normal. I mean, they’re normal but…they’re not as they usually are.
“ About that,” I start, nervously fiddling with my order pad and steadfastly ignoring at least two tables that are clamoring for attention. “ I-”
“ Max, Liz! Come on you two!” The sudden yell startles us both and we turn to see my aunt gesturing to all the tables that need serving. “ You can chat later! We’ve got work.”
“ Sorry Mrs. Parker,” Max calls out. He glances at me and then seems to come to a decision. He grabs my hand and pulls me after him into the break room. He’s not paying attention to the tables either.
“ Miss!”
“ Waitress, over here!”
“ Max,” I call weakly, hoping to stall. I’m not ready for this. What am I supposed to say? “ The customers?”
Max turns abruptly directs a one thousand dollar smile to the tables. “ She’ll be right back.” And then we’re off again. We pass by a frazzled Maria, who simply stares as I shoot her a helpless look. And then we’re in the back room.
Alone.
And he’s still holding my hand.
As if realizing this just NOW, he drops it and paces forward a few steps and then turns back to me.
“ You have plans tonight?”
“ I do. I mean…Maria has plans. She and I. We both do. We have plans.” Oh boy. I am an idiot. I take a deep breath and ignore the slight amusement coloring Max’s face at my expense. “Maria and I are going to eat ice cream after closing. That is, if we ever do close.”
Oh good! My brain hasn’t been permanently disconnected from my mouth. Always a good thing to know.
“ Yeah. Your uncle called and said he needed all hands on deck. I think even Alex and Isabel are coming to help out.”
“ They are? That’s great then. I think Maria’s an inch away from committing murder. Not that I’m that far behind.”
He does that half-smile thingy again but it doesn’t have it’s usual knee-weakening, heart pounding effect on me. It’s the lack of sparkle in his eyes that’s doing it. It just doesn’t seem complete.
“ So can I come over after you two finish then? I’ll meet you on your balcony. We…we need to talk Liz.”
“ I know. I know we do. It’s just-”
“ Please.”
Aw, hell. I never could say no to the eyes.
“ Sure.”
Lord give me strength. Something tells me I’ll need it.
TBC
Part 11 Recap
1. Flashback to 4 years ago, just after Max comforts Liz in the classroom (they are in junior high). We get to see an outside party's assessment of the gang plus Jessica, from special guest star Katherine Topolsky herself
2. Jordan Connor makes another appearance, making good on his plan to switch into Liz's English class to secure her assistance
3. We see more of what happened at the reservoir after Jordan left Max and Liz there, particularly Liz's freak out about it
4. We find out that Liz kissed Max in some fit of madness, and we end with Max requesting they speak about the incident after their shift
Anyway…you said something about Max ignoring you? Is he…at home?
! Where do you get these things?