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Chapter Thirty:
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I don’t know when or where or even how it happened, but all I know is that while I was standing there, indignantly bitching at the guard before me, it suddenly hit me that little Lizzie left the building and I don’t know when or if she’s ever coming back.
“What do you mean he’s been transferred?”
The uniform clad guard behind a desk doesn’t even look at me, he keeps staring at his well-lit little computer monitor. “My records say-”
“I think I would know if he was transferred! I am his daughter!” The closest family he has left. You would think that “I would have been informed if he was transferred.”
“Ma’am,” he stands up now just to show that he’s a whole head taller than me, “will you calm down.”
Cross my arms across my chest and huff before the guard finally sits back down in his seat. “Now my records say here that-”
And I just don’t understand. I caught a bus, bought the ticket, sat in a window seat by myself for hours so that I could come here, during visiting hours and visit with my daddy. And here this guy is telling me that I can’t see him because he’s not here? How can he not be here? “I was in here … less than a week ago. I saw him, here, less than a week ago.”
“Ma’am,” he says ma’am but he says it in that tone that’s more like ‘hey you’ or ‘hey kid’ or something equally belittling. I huff at him on the inside. “My records say that he was transferred yesterday. It’s cleared and finished. There’s nothing I can do for you.”
But I just … I don’t … I … “why wasn’t I notified?”
He punches more keys in his keyboard and stares at his computer screen again before he smiles again and says, “it says right here there have been three notifications sent out through postal mail of this transfer sent to an address on … Antarian Avenue in Roswell, New Mexico.”
Well … I never really got mail while living in that house. Does that mean that I had gotten them, I just never asked Juanita for mail. No, that can’t be because I’m sure that Juanita would have told me if I got mail. She wouldn’t not tell me. But I haven’t really been in the house again since that one morning. But then, decisions like this don’t really happen in the span of a couple of days, do they? I don’t think so. So you know what? I just, “I didn’t get them.”
“Are you sure?” he gives me this skeptical look. A quirked eyebrow, the disbelieving eyes. “307 Antarian Avenue?”
“307?” That’s not my address. That’s Max’s … Why in hell would-
“Liz. Oh, thank God.” And I turn toward the voice in time to see Alex right before he grabs my arm and starts dragging me away. “Max has been going out of his mind looking for you!”
Out of his mind? I’m sorry but it’s hard to imagine Max out of his mind. At least, not the king Max I’ve seen around lately. Not that his high and mighty attitude is a bad thing. I mean, confidence is good when it comes to politics, right? Alien politics, but still, politics. And even though Max isn’t ‘in power’ he still grew up in that lifestyle. What does that mean anyway that Max isn’t ‘in power’? Who is this Khivar guy? And am I really as important as Max and Alex are making me out to be?
Questions galore and still no answers. At least, they aren’t coming fast enough. But then, am I actually actively looking for the answers? Or do the thoughts of those answers scare me that much? I think we all know the answer to that question. I am a coward, above all else.
“You really shouldn’t do that, Liz,” Alex starts lecturing me while we pile into his car.
Sit down, slam the door, fasten the seatbelt and cross my arms over my chest. “Do what, Alex?”
“Disappear like that.” He starts the engine and I turn in my seat to look at him.
“I did not disappear.” Where would he get that? Disappear? “Is that what Max told you? That I disappeared?”
“Liz,” he has that ‘I really don’t want to put up with this right now’ tone. “Just …”
He shuts up after that. Weird. If Alex is this wigged out about me going to go visit my dad, I wonder how Max must be.
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“You could have at least told me where you were going!” He’s pacing. I’m in his study, sitting in a chair, and he’s pacing in front of me. Alex drove and dropped me off at Max’s front door before he left and I went inside and was told by Larek that he was to inform me that I was to report to Master Evan’s study as soon as I arrived home. So I went straight to his study. Straight into a chair. And now Max is pacing in front of me, telling me how irresponsible I am.
But you know what? I was not irresponsible. Because I didn’t just disappear. Because “I wrote you a note. Or did you not see it?”
He stops. He stares. Straight at me. “I saw it. But it wasn’t much of a note, was it?”
Shrug. “But it got the point across.” Small smile. I know, I should either be indignantly defiant and speak out about the overprotection and lack of freedom I’m receiving or not receiving. Or I should be nervous because of his staring and his upset attitude because Max can be scary. Just not right now. Right now, he’s cute. Not that he couldn’t seem scary at this moment to someone else. It’s just that, right now, to me, he’s a cute little mad Max.
“Saying that you needed to get away and that you’ll be back later doesn’t explain a goddamn thing. You know what’s up in the air right now. You know I worry.” He huffs and puffs and runs his fingers through his hair.
He does look a little out of his mind. He does look worried. The note didn’t really tell him where I was going. It just told him I was going. Did he think I was going to leave him again? Is that it? Because that’s not true. Doesn’t he know that I can’t leave him anymore? Doesn’t he see that? That I need him. Because even I see that, and I’m the last person to admit to something like that. I’m not going to leave him again, “I just wanted to see my daddy.”
“I know.” He sits down in the chair, facing me, and his hand goes on my knee. “I’m sorry I yelled. I was just so … worried.”
It’s times like these that I really do believe that he really does care about me. I just forget myself and nothing else matters. Max is amazing. He really is.
“How about I take you to him?”
My eyes go up to meet his. “What?”
Take me to him? “He was transferred to a different facility,” apparently. “And Alex dragged me out of there before I could ask which facility.” And even if I did know which one, I couldn’t visit him now. It’s dark and the window of opportunity for visiting in prisons are very narrow.
“I know,” he stands up and puts his hand out for me to take. “Let’s go.”
And suddenly I’m reminded of the guard guy telling me that the transfer notices all went to Max’s address. Place my hand in his and let him lead me out of the study. “What do you mean you know?”
“I think you know what I mean.” He lets go of my hand and opens the door into the garage as he gets into his car. The top is up. It makes me think of prom night. A night that feels like it was so long ago, but it, in fact, was pretty recent.
I follow his lead and get into the passenger side. “Max …” Turn towards him and he’s giving me this look in return, a look that tells me not to push it. Lean back in the seat and sigh while he backs out of the driveway. “How long will it take to get there?”
“Half an hour.” He puts the car in drive and we speed off.
Half an hour? My dad is that close to me? Half an hour …
Feel him reach over and grab my hand and I freeze for a second before I turn my head and stare at the spot in between us, where my left hand and his right hand are joined together, fingers entwined.
I can hear my heart pounding in my ears. Deep breath and stare straight ahead. This isn’t a big deal. I mean, I’ve held hands with Max before. I’ve done a lot more than held hands with Max before. Why am I so nervous?
I’m sure all couples do this, hold hands. Then why does it feel so special, so significant that Max’s hand is holding my hand? Maybe it’s because what Max and I have is special, right? Maybe that’s why people refer to their other half as their ‘significant’ other. Maybe I’m just crazy.
“Don’t worry. It’s going to be okay.”
“Huh?” Head pops up and I look at him.
And he has this smirk on his face, staring out at the road. “You’re tense. I know you’re probably nervous about seeing your dad. But don’t worry so much, okay? I’m here. Everything will be fine.”
I’m not nervous about seeing my daddy. Why would I be nervous about seeing my daddy? After all, he’s my daddy, right? I don’t need Max for support when seeing my daddy. I don’t need him for protection. Max is just driving me to my daddy. That’s all. Because Max knows where he is. By the way, “how do you know where my dad is?”
He doesn’t say anything.
And you know what I decide? I don’t care how he knows. I just want to see my daddy.
“I had Larek move some of your things into my room.” He still doesn’t look at me, just keeps his eyes on the road. Not because he wants to be a safe driver, but because he doesn’t want to see me stare him down.
“That’s very presumptuous of you.” I mean, that he assumed that I wanted to sleep with him from now on just because I slept with him these past few nights.
“Let’s just say I was being very … hopeful.” He’s got a smirk on his face and he turns his head to look at me and winks before staring back out at the road.
I just shake my head and smile. Max’s bed is where I planned on sleeping tonight anyway. I’ve only spent a handful of nights with him and I’m hooked. What can I say? It’s crazy and it’s absurd, completely unlike me and a huge step for me to admit, but … I love him. And I want to spend the rest of my nights with him. Just like last night.
Don’t jump to any farfetched conclusions. Although I did kind of … put out easy where he’s concerned, nothing happened last night. Well, something happened, but nothing sexual. Well … to put it frankly, we didn’t fuck. Because, at any rate, last night wasn’t about fucking. It was a lot deeper than that. Last night and subsequently this morning was the morning after that neither Max nor I got that first time around. Or the second time, for that matter.
The first few nights I spent in Max’s room, were spent with me on the bed and Max on the floor. But last night, we were both in bed, together. It just happened. Last night, he laid me in his bed, held me in his arms, and I was safe, loved, and cherished. Last night, he kissed me softly and watched over me while I slipped into sleep. Last night was a promise… a surrender… a love that spans beyond the galaxies. And the morning kisses and caresses just cemented all that last night stood for.
I finally gave myself to Max. Not physically, but much more. Sex skims the surface. Love runs deep.
I threw my love at him. I opened up and gave him it all and yet I still feel whole inside. And there’s no turning back now.
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“So I was starting to think I was figuring things out. But … apparently I wasn’t. I don’t know what I’m doing any more. I feel more confused than I was after Mom died. I know that sounds bad, but it’s the truth.”
He just nods his head at me from where he’s sitting on the couch. The television isn’t on and he’s actually looking at me. That’s how I can tell that he’s really, really focused on me. Because normally Daddy multitasks. But he’s just looking at me right now. It’s very unnerving.
Lean back into the loveseat that I’m sitting in with a huff. “What am I going to do?”
“Well,” he stands up from the couch and goes to open the mini-fridge. “I can’t answer that for you, Lizzie-bear. Did you want a coke or something?”
Sigh. “Sure.” Even Daddy doesn’t have the answers I want.
I sit up and he places a can of cherry coke and a bottle of Tabasco sauce in front of me. And he sits down slowly, watching me.
Quirk my eyebrow and point. “What’s the Tabasco for?”
“It’s how your mom liked it,” he says it slowly and he makes his point. I get what he’s trying to say, that he knows and that he’s always known. The Mom being an alien thing. But I kind of figured that he knew. But maybe he didn’t know that I would be like my mom in that alien sense. Or maybe he hoped that I wouldn’t be like that.
Does Daddy see me as an alien? Like how I saw Max as an alien? I … I don’t want that. Stare right back at him and speak slowly, “maybe I won’t like it.”
“You’ll like it.”
… Deep breath. Alien. I never … never once ever thought that my daddy wouldn’t accept me. Never. Because I’m alien.
Fuck that! I’m not alien. I’m not. I am Lizzie Philips and I am normal, goddamnit!
“Here,” he leans forward and uncaps the bottle of Tabasco, opens the cherry coke, and pours a few drops in the can before swishing it around a little and putting it back on the table in front of me.
I stare at it. This is it, the deciding factor. Either I don’t drink it and stay his little honey-bear, or take the swig and condemn myself.
Look at my daddy and he nods towards the can of Tabasco laced cherry coke on the coffee table.
I want to cry. I want to drop down and beg him to let me stay Lizzie, at least to him. But I can’t. I can’t.
Reach out for the drink, hold my breath, bring it to my lips, and tilt the can until a few drops spill into my mouth.
Swallow.
Tear.
“How was it?”
I am damned.
The can is pulled out of my hands. “Elizabeth, it’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with liking it.”
Elizabeth. He calls me Elizabeth. Not Lizzie-bear. Not honey-bear. Or Liz even. No, he calls me by the name my mother gave me.
Tear.
“Honey-bear, it’s a part of you that you can’t ignore anymore. I know. I realize that now. To deny it would be denying yourself.”
“But … you’re my daddy.” He can’t deny that, can he? It’s not something that you can take back, right? Just because I liked the Tabasco coke? It was tangy, fizzy, awkward, but good.
“I’ll always be your dad. I just can’t help you in that part of your life. The only thing I could probably do is tell you all the weird combinations of foods your mom used to eat. And I’ll tell ya, what a pregnant alien woman craves is just … out of this world.” He laughs at his own little joke.
Huh … wait … “You were … okay with Mom’s whole alien thing?”
He rubs his hands on his pants and sits back. “To tell you the truth, when I first met your mom, I fell so hard.” He sighs with a smile and you can see the memories flooding his eyes. “She was just … beautiful. I was only planning on passing through Roswell, but then ended up staying an extra two weeks, just ‘cause of her.”
He smiles a small sad smile.
“It didn’t even matter to me that she was married,” he shakes his head. That’s a shocker because Daddy’s all about morals and hitting on a married lady would be a big no-no. “She obviously didn’t love him. And … you could just tell there was something just … wrong about her being with him.” Edward Harding. Even if she didn’t love him, he was obsessed with her and her perfection. In a marriage like that, I think I would have left too.
“And when I found out about the whole ‘alien’ thing, I hightailed it out of there quicker than you could imagine.”
“Really?” Dad freaked? Rough and tough and big ole Hank Philips freaked? Funny.
“Yeah,” he laughs. “But I couldn’t get your mom out of my head. I went back a week later and got her to run away with me, leave it all behind. And she did.”
“… Why?”
“Because I asked her to, I guess.” He lowers his eyes. “I miss her.”
Nod my head slowly. “I miss her too, Daddy.”
The silence is awkward. Dad and I have never been that great at emotional stuff. Mom was always dramatic enough for the both of us. But she’s … not … … It’s awkward. “So … this is a nice room you have here.” I look around and comment at the hotel that Max drove me to and up to the top floor where I found my dad.
“Nice is an understatement,” he smiles. “This is great. Heaven compared to the inside of a jail cell.”
And I just … “how is this allowed?” I mean, “not that I don’t want you to live as comfortably as possible. It’s just this seems … very … ritzy.”
“That’s what I thought too,” he leans back and switches on the TV. “I get my own kitchen, big bed, mini-bar, ESPN.”
“They just let you out of prison?” Or did he escape? No, the guard said he got transferred. But transferred to a five star hotel suite? I just don’t get it.
“Sadly, no.” He doesn’t turn the TV off, but he puts it on mute and turns towards me. “I’m just getting to enjoy some star-treatment while they make room for me in a prison near Roswell. Go ahead, take a look,” he points to an envelope on the coffee table.
Pick it up and read over the letter inside. “It says you’re getting transferred to the Roswell Correctional Facility. You get to go from a penitentiary to a correctional facility?”
“Yup.” He sits down with a beer and un-mutes the TV.”
“And in the mean time, you get to stay in a very expensive hotel suite because there’s no room for you yet?”
“Uh-huh,” he nods.
“Dad, that just …” rack my brain and … “that just doesn’t make sense. Are they setting you free or …”
“They’re just letting me relax a little before I get sent to a … less harsh of a prison.” He just writes it off as just that. “There’s a guard outside the room right now, to watch me. Sort of.”
I saw the guy outside. I thought he was the elevator attendant. I don’t get it. That’s just … “that’s very lenient.” I mean, they would let a prisoner convicted of murder to stay in a hotel suite with just a nonchalant-looking guard outside.
“You …” Deep breath. “You didn’t kill mom, right?”
He turns his head and just stares at me. I hold my breath. He told me he didn’t do it before. And I didn’t want to bring it up again. But if he really didn’t do it, then “I just … I don’t see why you don’t try to appeal if you didn’t do it …”
He turns the TV off. He’s in serious mode again. “The case against me makes that kind of … impossible.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m sure you have the resources, honey-bear. Why don’t you take a look at my case yourself and you’ll see. It’s pretty much open shut. But hey, maybe you’ll find something that that dipstick lawyer didn’t see. You’re a smart girl, Lizzie.” And he leans forward and pats my cheek just like he always did when I was little.
I don’t want that burden. He’s putting his freedom in my hands. That’s not exactly fair.
There’s a knock on the door and I stand up to answer it. It’s Max. He looks at me with worry. Probably because I look a little worried myself. “Are you ready to go?”
Nod my head. “Yeah, let me just say bye to my dad.”
Turn and go in and hug him good-bye. “I’ll come visit you again soon, okay, Dad?”
“Okay.” He smiles. “Take care of yourself and keep up with your schoolwork.”
I smile back. “Okay, Daddy.” And I walk away, choosing to ignore that last comment and not tell him that nerdy little Lizzie has been ditching school since he saw me last. I don’t think he would understand why I would need a week off from school to … ‘adjust’.
Head towards the door to follow Max out.
“Goodbye, Mr. Philips.” He waves to my dad and I wait for my daddy to scowl at him because I’m his baby girl and no boy is good enough for me.
But it doesn’t come. Instead, “Bye, Max. Chess next week?”
“You’re on,” Max nods and he turns and walks towards the elevator.
Look back at my daddy before I follow Max out. What the hell was that?
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The Denial Game (ML,MATURE) AN [9/11]
Moderators: Anniepoo98, ISLANDGIRL5, truelovepooh, Forum Moderators
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Chapter Thirty One:
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|| My memory is fuzzy. I think Mom and I were in the living room that night. That last night. The television was on in the background, but we weren’t watching it. We weren’t watching regular TV. I think we had a movie in. What movie was it? Gattaca? Maybe? That was her favorite movie. We did watch it a lot. I could practically quote the movie line by line.
Yeah, I think it was Gattaca playing. Ethan Hawke and Jude Law. My mom loved that movie. The movie was about a guy doing all he could to be able to go into outer space. Funny, isn’t it?
Our Christmas tree was still up. Which didn’t mean much, considering it stayed up for nearly half the year. It was one of those plastic fake trees that you store in a box in the attic. We’d put it up early November and wouldn’t get to putting it away until maybe March or so.
Mom was doing something on the couch. Reading a magazine? Painting her toe-nails? No. Mom wouldn’t paint her toe-nails on the coffee table. It’s unlady-like. She was doing something, I can’t remember. But I was doing my homework on the kitchen table.
I could still hear the television on in the background, but I was in the dining room. Dinner was cooking in the kitchen. And Mom went back and forth from the kitchen to the living room, to the kitchen and the living room and back again, checking on dinner.
What was she making? It smelled like potatoes. Was it a stew? She had bought a chicken earlier that day. What was for dinner? I don’t remember. I just remember she had something in the oven, a pot simmering on the stove, and a pan cooking something else.
I remember because I remember taking a break from studying to get a drink and seeing the pan and it reminding me of the day before with the burn but no burn thing that happened with me and Mom and Dad fighting over it. And I took my drink with me and went back to studying.
What was I drinking? Diet coke, I think. What was I studying? Health? No. I wasn’t taking health at the time. History, I think.
And Mom was cooking dinner for Dad because he was supposed to be home any minute. They had fought the day before, but they always fight, over stupid stuff, namely me.
And money, sometimes. Well, more with my dad than with my mom. Mom didn’t really care about money. That’s just how she was.
She was making another round of going into the kitchen to check on dinner when he came home. Which was weird because … why was it weird again? Did he ring the doorbell, or did he knock? My memory is fuzzy, but it was weird because he didn’t have his keys on him.
Which, I thought was weird at the time, because Mom was the forgetful one. I was too, but I inherited that from Mom because Dad wasn’t like that.
I remember closing my book to start setting the table. Yeah, it was my history book. I remember because the cover is an ugly orangey thing. But I closed it and I stood up to set the table. But I waited because normally when Dad came home, Mom would tell me to set the table. She didn’t.
I walked out to the living room. And Dad was still standing at the front door. He was upset. Very, very upset. Which he gets that way when they fight, but they hadn’t even said anything to each other yet.
Normally, the day after they fight, Dad would come home looking tired and guilty kind of. They might fight again later, but they wouldn’t start off the night fighting for no reason.
Maybe they had a reason that I didn’t know about. Maybe Dad knew something. Maybe Dad found out about Mom’s secret. Mom’s secrets.
But he already knew she was from Roswell. He already knew her ‘other-worldly’ status. I was the one that didn’t know about that stuff yet. Whatever had Dad upset, I didn’t get to find out.
Mom took one look at me coming out into the living room and ordered me up to my room. She yelled the second time. One look at Dad and I don’t argue, I just go.
I think Mom knew they were going to have another fight. A big one, from the looks of Dad’s face.
And that’s when it all went down. The door slammed. The gun shot. And I was in my room, in my bed, trying to block it all out.
But Daddy says he didn’t do it. And for some reason, I believe him. ||
“Okay. Well, here we are.” He parks the car in front of the mailbox of a nice and pretty house.
I look at him and look at the house and look at him again. I asked Alex to help me with something and he takes me here? “Where is here?”
“This is Philip Guerin’s house.” He turns off the car engine, waiting for me.
Wait … “Guerin?”
“Yup,” the p pops at the end of the word and I’m just thinking that it’s such an Alex thing to do. “Michael and Isabel’s dad.” He nods.
I nod too. “Okay.”
And I wait. He looks at me. “He is Annabelle Harding’s …” pause while he corrects himself, “was Annabelle Harding’s attorney here. I don’t know if he still kept up with her when she left, but … I don’t know, there’s a possibility. I’m sure he has the file you want.”
“Okay.” Deep breath and I unbuckle my seatbelt. My hand goes to the door handle but I stop and look at Alex, who’s just sitting there. “Wait, are you not coming in with me?”
“Mmm …” he makes a clicking sound in his cheek and taps the steering wheel of the car. “I’ve got homework.”
“Wait,” what? Homework? “You’ve been going to back to school?” When did he start going back to school? I don’t go to school. Max doesn’t go to school. When did Alex go back to school?
“Yeah … the school year’s almost over and it’s our senior year,” he just shrugs it off, “I might as well finish.”
Huh? Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that too. But then, “should I go back to school?”
“Well, your grades are perfect, even if you didn’t go back for the rest of the school year, you’d still graduate,” he shrugs it off again.
And I sit back in the car to think. “What about college?”
He shrugs. “If you want, you could go to college. It’s not really what I have planned.”
Alex has his life planned out, but what am I going to do with mine? I mean, I always just assumed I’d go to college. But “I haven’t even applied anywhere. I …” I don’t know. It’s my senior year, but I think I just “forgot.” I mean, “the year’s been a busy one.” With everything that’s happened and all.
Alex nods at me, “I know.” I think his smile looks sympathetic. Whatever.
“So …” glance at the house again. “I bet Isabel’s inside. Since I can see her nice and shiny car parked in the driveway.” I’m taunting him. I’m teasing. I’m trying to get him to go inside the nice and pretty house with me.
Watch his eyes go to her car, to the house, and to me again. “Yeah … well …”
Wait, what’s with that look, “are you and she not together …”
“We are. It’s …” He shrugs again. Alex is playing it off. He’s being cool and nonchalant. That’s not an Alex thing to do.
My eyes narrow at him. “What’s going on? Why won’t you go in with me?” I want Alex to come in with me. I need him to come in with me. I have to have Alex come in with me. I mean, I don’t know this lawyer guy. What am I supposed to do? Walk into his house and just say, hey yo, I’m Liz and you used to be my mom’s attorney before she died?
He doesn’t say anything for a while and when he looks back at me, “I’m scared of her dad.”
I don’t hear my own laughing, it just comes out. What? Alex? Scared? I’m sorry … wait … “what?”
“Hey, yeah, well, it’s intimidating meeting with him.” He huffs and puffs, “I mean, I’m dating his only daughter for Pete’s sake. Aside from like a two week thing with Maria in like the seventh grade, I’ve never had a girlfriend like Isabel.”
Wait … What!? “You dated Maria?!”
Alex makes a face. “I know, don’t ask how it happened.”
But … no. That’s … eww …
“Come on, Liz,” he’s whining, “cut me some slack. You can go in by yourself, right?”
I know that if I say no, Alex would suck it in and go with me. Because Alex is like that. Protective big brother and all. I know he would do whatever I wanted. But I couldn’t do that to him.
Look at him and narrow my eyes. “Fine.” Pull on the door handle and step out. I close the door and stick my head back through the opened window. “Chicken.”
He just shrugs and I turn to walk up the walkway. It’s starting to get dark, but the porch light is on. I stand before the door and take a deep breath. My finger goes to push the doorbell, but the door comes open before I even get the chance to.
Michael’s standing there, holding the door open.
Look at him and his unmistakenably unruly hippie hair. How did he know I was here?
He looks at me. “I saw you parked out front with Alex.” He opens the door wider and turns inside. “Dad, Liz is here to see you.”
I step in the nicely kept house and Michael closes the door behind me. Michael’s dad comes out into the living room and looks at me. “Liz.” He’s smiling, but I can see how Alex could say he’s intimidating. It’s one of those scrutinizing kind of smiles. “I was wondering when you were going to be paying me a visit. Come into my office. This way.”
Wondering when I was going to visit him? Were they expecting me? I look at Michael. He points towards his dad, who is walking away. I follow.
He holds the door open for me and points to a chair that I sit in. He closes the door and takes a seat behind his desk. He sits, elbows on the desk, fingers laced together, and stares.
Nervous doesn’t describe how I feel. “So …”
“I’m sorry,” he sits up. Doesn’t stop staring, but sits up. “You just look so much like her. I just …” He shakes his head.
And I nod. I know what he’s talking about. “My mom?” I mean, I look just like her. Except for Daddy’s eyes. And it hits me. Because that means that “you know?”
“Yes.” He nods.
Small pause. “You’ve … known.”
He nods his head I again. I nod my head too.
He’s admitting to a lot of questions that aren’t even being verbalized. He’s known that I’m my mother’s daughter. He’s known my mom’s real identity. Anna Philips. Annabelle Harding. Annabelle Ross. He’s known all this time and “you’ve never told anyone?” Max. Alex. Edward. Even I didn’t figure it out until recently.
He nods again. But this time, he shrugs too. “I made a promise to your mother and I’ve kept it. She kept in contact with me still, even after she went missing,” he explains.
“But,” my mind churns, Kyle said that “everyone freaked when she went missing, looking for her and not knowing where she was.” Everyone except Mr. lawyer man here, Phillip Guerin.
“I knew,” he admits.
“But …” I’m still not quite sure what answers I’m looking for.
But Mr. Guerin answers them anyway. “I had a loyalty to your mother.”
To my mother? “Above your … planet” or whatever?
“Yes.” He nods. “We had history.”
“History?” Look into his eyes, his face, his vibe, his demeanor. And I know. Ugh. Just like my dad. Just like Edward. He had a thing for my mom.
“It was complicated,” he sighs. “She didn’t feel the same. I moved on. But, she still meant a lot to me. She loved your father greatly.” He’s got a nice poker face but he tenses a little when he says that last bit of dialogue.
Huh … “So …”
“But that’s not why you’re here.” He picks up a picture off of his desk, a picture of Isabel and Michael, opens the back of it, takes a key out from between the backing and the picture inside, unlocks a drawer in his desk, opens up something in the drawer, takes out another key, stands up, moves his big file cabinet over, feels for something on the ground, sticks the key in, opens up a hidden compartment in the ground, and pulls a black box out of it.
And I’m just thinking, wow. He smiles at me. I’m still just staring at the box. “That’s very …” what’s the word, “complex.”
He chuckles. I think he’s impressed with himself. “You don’t know how desperately people were looking for your mother.”
Wow. It’s all I can say.
He sits back down and opens up the box, pulling all the paperwork out of it. “Let’s get started, shall we?” He looks through the heap of paperwork and pulls out a file, opening it up. “So, we’ll see what your mother left her in her will.”
Wait … that’s not why I’m here.
“Let’s see …” he’s flipping through the papers.
But it couldn’t hurt, right?
“Well,” he looks in the black box again and pulls out a small envelope and hands it to me. It has Elizabeth written on the outside of it. In my mom’s handwriting. Pretty and neat.
“That’s a key to a safety deposit box located in Santa Fe. Here’s the number and address,” he hands me a slip of paper.
Santa Fe? “But … that’s like six hours away.”
He shrugs. “I don’t know what’s in it. She never said. But,” he glances through the paperwork again, “everything else of hers was all left to you.”
He opens up another envelope and starts going through the contents.
But, I remember, “I went through some of my mom’s will with Mrs. Deluca.” Shake my head. “There wasn’t all this.”
He nods, explaining. “That was for Anna Philips’s will. Annabelle Harding was a lot more well off.”
Huh.
“Here’s a key to a car located in her family’s house on Antarian Avenue,” he hands a black key to me with a purple rabbit’s foot attached to the key ring. This was my mom’s? “I don’t know if the car still works, since it’s been sitting idle there for years. Here’s the title to the car.” He puts a piece of paper in front of me. “I’ll have it transferred over to your name. The house,” he hands me more papers, “was with your family but was under Edward Harding. But since he’s …” I think he’s thinking of the right words to use, “no longer with us.” Good choice of words. “It’s also yours.”
I don’t even look at the deed. “I don’t want it.”
He nods. “I understand. But everything within the house is also your property. Edward Harding’s attorney-”
“Jesse Ramirez,” I think was his name.
“Right,” he nods. “He handled all of Edward Harding’s estate. Nothing of Edward’s was left to you in his will.” He gives me a funny look. “It’s all left to a daughter he never had, which was supposed to be you, essentially. But, we’re fighting for claim.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want anything of his.” Nothing.
Philip nods. “You know about your mother’s part investment in the Crashdown, correct?” He’s looking at another piece of paper.
I nod. Mrs. Deluca told me.
“I’m negotiating with Charles Whitman in selling your ownership in that.” It’s funny that he says that because, apparently, these are my things, but he’s doing stuff with them. But I just nod because I think it’s probably the good decision. “He’s being very generous.”
And I nod. Mr. Whitman is very generous. He’s a push over too. I think that’s where his son gets it from.
“Your mother had extra saved up in a savings account.” He keeps on going through the papers. “The amount has only grown since she left. The account will be transferred over into your name.”
And I shake my head because “I don’t have a bank account.”
He looks at me. “You do now.”
Oh. Okay. “How much?”
“Here was her bank statement two months ago.” More papers come my way. “The money has just been sitting there and accumulating.”
I look at the number. Oh. Okay. Wow. “I guess I’m set for a while, huh?”
He nods but then frowns. “There should be about twenty times this amount in a separate checking account that was your grandparents’, but when she married Edward Harding, his name was added to that account. And when your mother left, he had her name taken off. But,” he points to the paper I’m holding, “we’ve kept this separate savings account secret from him. The rest of the will is all laid out here.” And I get another pack of papers listing things out.
And I’m just … I just … Hand some of the papers back to him. “I’m good. I … don’t know anything about any of this. You can handle it all, right?” He’s a lawyer, after all.
He smiles and nods his head. “Gladly.”
So “if you were my mom’s lawyer, does that make you my lawyer now too?” If he’s handling things for me now, right?
“If you’ll have me,” he nods.
It’s a good decision, right? Since “you know more about all this than I do.”
He nods. I trust him. After all, my mother did.
“Okay,” he stands up from behind his desk. “If that’s it, you’re welcome to stay for dinner if you’d like.”
“No,” well, wait, “actually, this,” wave my hands around at all the paperwork on his desk. “This isn’t why I came.”
“Oh?” His eyebrows go up.
And if he really cared about my mother like he says, I’m sure he has it. “I’m looking to get a copy of my mom’s murder case file.”
He nods. He goes into another file cabinet, flips through the drawer, and pulls out large manila folders. “Here you go.”
I take it from him. It’s heavy. I nod my thanks.
“I’ve combed through it too. I couldn’t believe the news,” he sighs, still standing, his hands go into his pockets. “But it’s all there.”
And I suddenly remember what the files about. He cared so much about my mom, right? I wonder if he hates my dad. But then, “he didn’t do it, you know.”
He doesn’t believe me. He just stands there, crossing his hands over his chest. “Read the file, Liz. You’ll see.”
I will. But I know in my heart my dad didn’t … couldn’t …
“Oh, wait.” He goes through his desk again. “I have more papers for you to sign, but I want to get this one out of the way, while you’re here.” He unclicks a pen and pulls out even more papers. “It’s papers to change your name. I’m sure you don’t want Harding anymore.”
I look down at the papers. The paperwork says Ross on it.
“It was your mother’s maiden name.” Mr. lawyer-man points out.
That’s my mother. Not me. I don’t sign it. I won’t sign it. I push the papers back. “Could you have it changed to Philips, instead?”
He nods. But I can sense a bit of tension. Yeah, I’m pretty sure he hates my dad.
I look down at the desk filled with folders, packet, and just everything. “You have all of this, but why didn’t you ever tell me?” I mean, I think I would have figured a few more things out easier if I had known. Well, he would have explained a few more things out easier.
“I would have,” he explains, “eventually. At least, by the time you were eighteen. I just wanted to give you time to grieve.”
I nod. I think he’s still grieving my mother’s death himself.
Strange.
He walks me to the door and I leave outside. Alex isn’t there. He must have driven off. The front door opens again. Michael steps out. He has keys in his hands.
I look at him.
He looks at me. “I’m driving you home.”
Oh. “Okay.”
He walks over and unlocks his door. “Max’s house, right?”
I walk over to the passenger side. Max isn’t home though. Max is at another meeting again. “Actually, could you take me to Alex?”
Michael starts the engine. He’s looking straight ahead. “Alex is in Isabel’s room right now.”
What? “But his car isn’t-”
“It’s parked around the corner,” he puts the car in reverse. “He snuck in while you were in the study with my dad.”
“Oh.” I pull my seatbelt on.
That dog. He told me that he didn’t want to face her dad just so that I would distract Mr. Guerin and he could go in to mess around with Isabel behind our backs. I’m actually … shocked. By Alex. I mean, I have a lot of words that I associate with Alex. Sly has never been one of them. Until now.
Michael drives and he pulls his car into Max’s driveway. He puts his car into park.
I sit there. It’s weird being alone with Michael. He’s just so … whatever. “Um … thanks.” My hand goes to the door handle.
“Oh, give me the key to your house and car.”
What? I sit back and look at him. “Why?”
It’s weird the way he talks because he doesn’t seem to have any other mood other than moody. “My dad wants me to check out your car for you.”
Oh. “Okay.” Drop my stack of envelopes and papers into my lap and pull the two keys out of my pocket. “Here. Thanks, Michael.”
“Yeah, well,” he drops the keys in his change compartment. They clink on the quarters, dimes, nickels, and pennies that he keeps in there. “It’s dinner time. I’ll check it out tomorrow.”
Okay. “Thanks.” Exit the car and head for the door.
Max isn’t home. He’s at a meeting. Again. But Larek opens the door for me when I ring the doorbell.
--------------
Did you know that potatoes are a strictly earth veggie. I did not know that. But Larek is just packed with interesting little tidbits like that. He’s teaching me how to make mashed potatoes from scratch. I’ve never made mashed potatoes from scratch before. It’s absurdly simple with the potatoes and the mashing and all.
“So … no potatoes at all?” I think I’ve asked him for like the fifth time already.
“None,” he shakes his head. “Which is fine by me. Earth food is fattening.”
But … “it tastes so good.”
He smiles. I like Larek. He’s like the grandpa/uncle I never had.
We’re peeling potatoes over the sink. It’s something I used to do with my mom. I would peel. Mom would cook. Sigh. New topic. “Wait, so you don’t have French fries either?”
“No,” he shakes his head some more. “Nor baked potatoes. Nor hash browns.”
He says it funny. He rolls the R. I laugh. He smiles. This cooking together with Larek is weird. But nice. But I don’t know if it will last long because I’ve been thinking a lot lately and “I don’t think I should be living here.” I mean, people are bound to be talking and … I just don’t feel all that comfortable here. It’s Max’s home, not mine. And I just … I don’t know.
Larek picks up the last potato to peel. “But you’re more than welcome to stay.”
I know this. He knows I know this. “But my mother had a lot of money set aside for me. I was thinking about getting my own place.” Money really isn’t an issue anymore.
He just nods. “Whatever you desire.”
I walk over to the stove and look at the pot of boiling water. What did she have boiling in the pot? It smelled like potatoes. Was it stew?
“So what are you going to do with this new place you want?” He’s chopping up the potatoes on a cutting board on the counter now.
I go to the sink to wash my hands. “I was thinking about college too.” I mean, I just always expected to go to college. But “I’m kind of late on the applications though.”
He nods, chopping away. “You’re a very intelligent girl. I’m sure you’ll be accepted to whichever school you apply.”
I smile. He thinks I’m smart. Smart enough to go to “an Ivy league?” I mean, I can afford the tuition now.
He shrugs and finishes up cutting the potatoes into cubes. “I don’t know much about schools here on earth. But,” he puts all the potato cubes into a bowl and brings the bowl over to the boiling pot, “our galaxy had some very prestigious ones too, especially on Antar,” he adds that last bit on a light note, pouring the bowl’s contents into the boiling pot.
“Did you go to one?” Do they have butler degrees on Antar?
“No,” he smiles anyway. “My job was secured from birth.”
“Oh. Do you mind being a butler?” He seems like he doesn’t. He seems like he’s happy with this life.
“Mind? Not at all,” he’s shaking his head. “It’s very respectable, caring for the future throne.”
“But Max isn’t …” at least, not anymore.
“He will.” Larek seems so sure.
But “what do you mean?”
“At the moment,” he explains, “things are a bit … shaky. But the people won’t accept Khivar. I’m sure of it.” He adds all these seasonings and thing and puts the lid on the pot and walks to the fridge.
I follow. “How do you know?”
“I may be care taker to the royal family, but I am still a rightful citizen. I don’t accept his rule. I’m sure no one else will either.” He pulls a juice box out of the fridge and hands it to me.
I take it from him. What am I, five? I sit down on a stool and try to poke the straw through. It won’t go. I try again.
Larek takes it from me and he magically gets it done with all his butler skills. “I’m sure of it,” he repeats.
I sip on my juice box and narrow my eyes at him. “I think you’re biased though.”
“Perhaps,” he nods. He has this secretive voice that Juanita has too. Maybe they’re both secret spies in a super secret spy ring.
He sits down on the stool next to me. We’re waiting. What are we waiting for? The potatoes to get done. Why are we making potatoes at this late an hour when dinner’s already over and done? Because I wanted it, gosh-darn-it.
Max isn’t home yet.
Larek pulls out a pencil and starts crossing things off on a pad of paper. The pencil reminds me of Kyle, so I ask him “so what can you do?”
“Do, Miss Liz?” He doesn’t look at me. He’s still crossing things off on his pad of paper.
You know, do. “Like special powers.”
“Oh,” he puts the pad of paper away in his pocket, laughing and shaking his head. “I am not Antarian.”
Wait … “You’re not?” So only people from Antar can do stuff?
“No,” he’s still smiling and shaking his head. “I’m from Vyntra.”
“Oh.” Well. Okay, then.
“But I married an Antarian,” he adds in.
“So … your wife has powers.” Because, you know, she’s Antarian. And apparently, Antarians can, like, do stuff.
He nods his head. “And so did my daughter, yes.”
“So,” wait, “it’s genetic?” He answers me with a nod and it makes sense. Because then it explains the pencil thing I did.
“So …” still waiting for the potatoes to finish, as nonchalantly as possible, “what happened to your daughter?”
He’s looking forward, not at me. He sighs. Am I prying? I am. But I want to know. “She was kidnapped back home.”
Home? What does he consider home? “Antar or … Vvvv-”
“Vyntra,” he says it slow. Alien pronunciations.
I nod. “Right.”
“Neither. We were vacationing on Xenith when it happened,” he just nods, telling me. He doesn’t sound as though he minds me asking. “She was taken from us.”
Taken? But “then …”
“They never found her body,” he answers the question I didn’t ask.
Kidnapping a child? It’s sad. “But I thought your people weren’t the violent type.” Both Larek and Max have said the same thing.
“Antarians aren’t. Xenithians are a different story,” he says it like he’s had some rough and tumble tales with those types.
I just … “Oh.” Larek had said his daughter passed away. “But, if her body was never found, then she could still be-”
“That’s a hope that I gave up on a long time ago,” he talks like a war torn soldier. There’s a lot more to Larek than meets the eye. “She was a very special little girl.”
Really? Like how Max tells me I’m special? Was it because of “her powers?” Or was it something else?
“Yes,” he nods. “She had a very rare ability. She was the only child I’d ever known to have that power.” He sounds proud.
Did my dad ever talk about me like that? What is my special ability? I can move a pencil.
“Her favorite …” he’s looking up. He’s reminiscing. There’s a smile on his face. “Her favorite was changing into a stuffed bear.”
Changing into “a stuffed bear?” What?
He laughs. “You have to understand. She was only a five when we lost her. Still a baby, really.”
Five? What was I doing when I was five? Learning to ride a bike? Having tea-parties with my mom? I can’t even imagine.
“And my wife,” he keeps going, “she passed away two years after the kidnapping.”
Oh. Double sorry. How does Larek hide all this pain? I lived in my head and walled away mine until I was climbing the walls, but … Larek doesn’t seem like the type to do that.
He stands up from the stool with a sigh. “It’s all in the past. I’ve cared for Maxwell since his birth. He’s like a son to me now.”
And I nod. The protectiveness. The care. “I see that.” This isn’t really work for him then, is it? “Where is Max,” anyway? It’s getting late.
“Another meeting,” Larek checks on the potatoes.
I stay seated on the stool. I nod. I know. “There are a lot of those lately.”
Larek nods. He turns down the heat. “They have a lot to discuss.”
“What do they talk about?” Khivar? Planets and thrones?
I look at him and Larek is giving me a funny look. “They’re trying to convince Maxwell to give you up.”
“What?” And what Max told me at Alex’s replays in my head. Alien babies and special blood. I shudder.
“No worries, poppet,” he smiles at me. “I know Maxwell. He won’t budge. He won’t hand you over to Khivar.” He sighs.
I sigh. Is this my fate?
Larek has a serious look on his face. “Most everyone on earth doesn’t want that for you either. Some are just … worried. It isn’t your fault that you are who you are. You had no idea. For all your superior genetics, you were raised human. It’s all you’ve ever known.”
Superior genetics? I’m my mother’s child alright. With Daddy’s muddy eyes. How can they want me? I’ve seen myself through my eyes. I can’t see myself through theirs. I’m a short, plain, mousy nerd. And people are arguing over me and discussing my fate in some secret building? It’s laughable. I mean, “What could honestly happen if I’m not handed overto Khivar?”
“That’s to be seen.” He turns off the stove. “Maxwell’s father left Maxwell to run the earth colony. As a test run at ruling, I suppose.
“Max runs the earth … colony?”
Larek laughs. “Passively, if at all. We govern ourselves. The Council take a more active role.”
“Council,” yeah, “right.”
He takes the lid off the pot and I can smell the potatoes. “It’s only recently Max has shown interest in his position,” he shrugs like it’s no big deal.
But I know. It’s “because of me?”
“Possibly,” he says, softly.
But I know. I stand up and walk over to him, my juice box abandoned. “So what’s the worst that could happen with Khivar?”
“The very worst?” his eyes go big and he’s thinking. “I guess, we could all be killed, for defiance. But that’s highly unlikely.”
What?! “Killed?”
“Highly unlikely,” he repeats firmly, the way all old people know how to do.
But … “how do you know for sure?” Killed?
Larek shakes his head. “We aren’t violent people.”
But, but, “but you said Zzz-”
“Xenith,” again with the slow pronunciation.
“Right, Xenith,” the evil planet. “You said Xenith was different.” They are grr. And “isn’t that the planet that rebelled, the planet Khivar is from?”
He nods and opens up a drawer.
Killed? What is Max thinking?
I look at Larek. He’s holding up this thing with a circle kind of grid on one side of it with a smile, “mashing time.”
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Chapter Thirty One:
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|| My memory is fuzzy. I think Mom and I were in the living room that night. That last night. The television was on in the background, but we weren’t watching it. We weren’t watching regular TV. I think we had a movie in. What movie was it? Gattaca? Maybe? That was her favorite movie. We did watch it a lot. I could practically quote the movie line by line.
Yeah, I think it was Gattaca playing. Ethan Hawke and Jude Law. My mom loved that movie. The movie was about a guy doing all he could to be able to go into outer space. Funny, isn’t it?
Our Christmas tree was still up. Which didn’t mean much, considering it stayed up for nearly half the year. It was one of those plastic fake trees that you store in a box in the attic. We’d put it up early November and wouldn’t get to putting it away until maybe March or so.
Mom was doing something on the couch. Reading a magazine? Painting her toe-nails? No. Mom wouldn’t paint her toe-nails on the coffee table. It’s unlady-like. She was doing something, I can’t remember. But I was doing my homework on the kitchen table.
I could still hear the television on in the background, but I was in the dining room. Dinner was cooking in the kitchen. And Mom went back and forth from the kitchen to the living room, to the kitchen and the living room and back again, checking on dinner.
What was she making? It smelled like potatoes. Was it a stew? She had bought a chicken earlier that day. What was for dinner? I don’t remember. I just remember she had something in the oven, a pot simmering on the stove, and a pan cooking something else.
I remember because I remember taking a break from studying to get a drink and seeing the pan and it reminding me of the day before with the burn but no burn thing that happened with me and Mom and Dad fighting over it. And I took my drink with me and went back to studying.
What was I drinking? Diet coke, I think. What was I studying? Health? No. I wasn’t taking health at the time. History, I think.
And Mom was cooking dinner for Dad because he was supposed to be home any minute. They had fought the day before, but they always fight, over stupid stuff, namely me.
And money, sometimes. Well, more with my dad than with my mom. Mom didn’t really care about money. That’s just how she was.
She was making another round of going into the kitchen to check on dinner when he came home. Which was weird because … why was it weird again? Did he ring the doorbell, or did he knock? My memory is fuzzy, but it was weird because he didn’t have his keys on him.
Which, I thought was weird at the time, because Mom was the forgetful one. I was too, but I inherited that from Mom because Dad wasn’t like that.
I remember closing my book to start setting the table. Yeah, it was my history book. I remember because the cover is an ugly orangey thing. But I closed it and I stood up to set the table. But I waited because normally when Dad came home, Mom would tell me to set the table. She didn’t.
I walked out to the living room. And Dad was still standing at the front door. He was upset. Very, very upset. Which he gets that way when they fight, but they hadn’t even said anything to each other yet.
Normally, the day after they fight, Dad would come home looking tired and guilty kind of. They might fight again later, but they wouldn’t start off the night fighting for no reason.
Maybe they had a reason that I didn’t know about. Maybe Dad knew something. Maybe Dad found out about Mom’s secret. Mom’s secrets.
But he already knew she was from Roswell. He already knew her ‘other-worldly’ status. I was the one that didn’t know about that stuff yet. Whatever had Dad upset, I didn’t get to find out.
Mom took one look at me coming out into the living room and ordered me up to my room. She yelled the second time. One look at Dad and I don’t argue, I just go.
I think Mom knew they were going to have another fight. A big one, from the looks of Dad’s face.
And that’s when it all went down. The door slammed. The gun shot. And I was in my room, in my bed, trying to block it all out.
But Daddy says he didn’t do it. And for some reason, I believe him. ||
“Okay. Well, here we are.” He parks the car in front of the mailbox of a nice and pretty house.
I look at him and look at the house and look at him again. I asked Alex to help me with something and he takes me here? “Where is here?”
“This is Philip Guerin’s house.” He turns off the car engine, waiting for me.
Wait … “Guerin?”
“Yup,” the p pops at the end of the word and I’m just thinking that it’s such an Alex thing to do. “Michael and Isabel’s dad.” He nods.
I nod too. “Okay.”
And I wait. He looks at me. “He is Annabelle Harding’s …” pause while he corrects himself, “was Annabelle Harding’s attorney here. I don’t know if he still kept up with her when she left, but … I don’t know, there’s a possibility. I’m sure he has the file you want.”
“Okay.” Deep breath and I unbuckle my seatbelt. My hand goes to the door handle but I stop and look at Alex, who’s just sitting there. “Wait, are you not coming in with me?”
“Mmm …” he makes a clicking sound in his cheek and taps the steering wheel of the car. “I’ve got homework.”
“Wait,” what? Homework? “You’ve been going to back to school?” When did he start going back to school? I don’t go to school. Max doesn’t go to school. When did Alex go back to school?
“Yeah … the school year’s almost over and it’s our senior year,” he just shrugs it off, “I might as well finish.”
Huh? Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that too. But then, “should I go back to school?”
“Well, your grades are perfect, even if you didn’t go back for the rest of the school year, you’d still graduate,” he shrugs it off again.
And I sit back in the car to think. “What about college?”
He shrugs. “If you want, you could go to college. It’s not really what I have planned.”
Alex has his life planned out, but what am I going to do with mine? I mean, I always just assumed I’d go to college. But “I haven’t even applied anywhere. I …” I don’t know. It’s my senior year, but I think I just “forgot.” I mean, “the year’s been a busy one.” With everything that’s happened and all.
Alex nods at me, “I know.” I think his smile looks sympathetic. Whatever.
“So …” glance at the house again. “I bet Isabel’s inside. Since I can see her nice and shiny car parked in the driveway.” I’m taunting him. I’m teasing. I’m trying to get him to go inside the nice and pretty house with me.
Watch his eyes go to her car, to the house, and to me again. “Yeah … well …”
Wait, what’s with that look, “are you and she not together …”
“We are. It’s …” He shrugs again. Alex is playing it off. He’s being cool and nonchalant. That’s not an Alex thing to do.
My eyes narrow at him. “What’s going on? Why won’t you go in with me?” I want Alex to come in with me. I need him to come in with me. I have to have Alex come in with me. I mean, I don’t know this lawyer guy. What am I supposed to do? Walk into his house and just say, hey yo, I’m Liz and you used to be my mom’s attorney before she died?
He doesn’t say anything for a while and when he looks back at me, “I’m scared of her dad.”
I don’t hear my own laughing, it just comes out. What? Alex? Scared? I’m sorry … wait … “what?”
“Hey, yeah, well, it’s intimidating meeting with him.” He huffs and puffs, “I mean, I’m dating his only daughter for Pete’s sake. Aside from like a two week thing with Maria in like the seventh grade, I’ve never had a girlfriend like Isabel.”
Wait … What!? “You dated Maria?!”
Alex makes a face. “I know, don’t ask how it happened.”
But … no. That’s … eww …
“Come on, Liz,” he’s whining, “cut me some slack. You can go in by yourself, right?”
I know that if I say no, Alex would suck it in and go with me. Because Alex is like that. Protective big brother and all. I know he would do whatever I wanted. But I couldn’t do that to him.
Look at him and narrow my eyes. “Fine.” Pull on the door handle and step out. I close the door and stick my head back through the opened window. “Chicken.”
He just shrugs and I turn to walk up the walkway. It’s starting to get dark, but the porch light is on. I stand before the door and take a deep breath. My finger goes to push the doorbell, but the door comes open before I even get the chance to.
Michael’s standing there, holding the door open.
Look at him and his unmistakenably unruly hippie hair. How did he know I was here?
He looks at me. “I saw you parked out front with Alex.” He opens the door wider and turns inside. “Dad, Liz is here to see you.”
I step in the nicely kept house and Michael closes the door behind me. Michael’s dad comes out into the living room and looks at me. “Liz.” He’s smiling, but I can see how Alex could say he’s intimidating. It’s one of those scrutinizing kind of smiles. “I was wondering when you were going to be paying me a visit. Come into my office. This way.”
Wondering when I was going to visit him? Were they expecting me? I look at Michael. He points towards his dad, who is walking away. I follow.
He holds the door open for me and points to a chair that I sit in. He closes the door and takes a seat behind his desk. He sits, elbows on the desk, fingers laced together, and stares.
Nervous doesn’t describe how I feel. “So …”
“I’m sorry,” he sits up. Doesn’t stop staring, but sits up. “You just look so much like her. I just …” He shakes his head.
And I nod. I know what he’s talking about. “My mom?” I mean, I look just like her. Except for Daddy’s eyes. And it hits me. Because that means that “you know?”
“Yes.” He nods.
Small pause. “You’ve … known.”
He nods his head I again. I nod my head too.
He’s admitting to a lot of questions that aren’t even being verbalized. He’s known that I’m my mother’s daughter. He’s known my mom’s real identity. Anna Philips. Annabelle Harding. Annabelle Ross. He’s known all this time and “you’ve never told anyone?” Max. Alex. Edward. Even I didn’t figure it out until recently.
He nods again. But this time, he shrugs too. “I made a promise to your mother and I’ve kept it. She kept in contact with me still, even after she went missing,” he explains.
“But,” my mind churns, Kyle said that “everyone freaked when she went missing, looking for her and not knowing where she was.” Everyone except Mr. lawyer man here, Phillip Guerin.
“I knew,” he admits.
“But …” I’m still not quite sure what answers I’m looking for.
But Mr. Guerin answers them anyway. “I had a loyalty to your mother.”
To my mother? “Above your … planet” or whatever?
“Yes.” He nods. “We had history.”
“History?” Look into his eyes, his face, his vibe, his demeanor. And I know. Ugh. Just like my dad. Just like Edward. He had a thing for my mom.
“It was complicated,” he sighs. “She didn’t feel the same. I moved on. But, she still meant a lot to me. She loved your father greatly.” He’s got a nice poker face but he tenses a little when he says that last bit of dialogue.
Huh … “So …”
“But that’s not why you’re here.” He picks up a picture off of his desk, a picture of Isabel and Michael, opens the back of it, takes a key out from between the backing and the picture inside, unlocks a drawer in his desk, opens up something in the drawer, takes out another key, stands up, moves his big file cabinet over, feels for something on the ground, sticks the key in, opens up a hidden compartment in the ground, and pulls a black box out of it.
And I’m just thinking, wow. He smiles at me. I’m still just staring at the box. “That’s very …” what’s the word, “complex.”
He chuckles. I think he’s impressed with himself. “You don’t know how desperately people were looking for your mother.”
Wow. It’s all I can say.
He sits back down and opens up the box, pulling all the paperwork out of it. “Let’s get started, shall we?” He looks through the heap of paperwork and pulls out a file, opening it up. “So, we’ll see what your mother left her in her will.”
Wait … that’s not why I’m here.
“Let’s see …” he’s flipping through the papers.
But it couldn’t hurt, right?
“Well,” he looks in the black box again and pulls out a small envelope and hands it to me. It has Elizabeth written on the outside of it. In my mom’s handwriting. Pretty and neat.
“That’s a key to a safety deposit box located in Santa Fe. Here’s the number and address,” he hands me a slip of paper.
Santa Fe? “But … that’s like six hours away.”
He shrugs. “I don’t know what’s in it. She never said. But,” he glances through the paperwork again, “everything else of hers was all left to you.”
He opens up another envelope and starts going through the contents.
But, I remember, “I went through some of my mom’s will with Mrs. Deluca.” Shake my head. “There wasn’t all this.”
He nods, explaining. “That was for Anna Philips’s will. Annabelle Harding was a lot more well off.”
Huh.
“Here’s a key to a car located in her family’s house on Antarian Avenue,” he hands a black key to me with a purple rabbit’s foot attached to the key ring. This was my mom’s? “I don’t know if the car still works, since it’s been sitting idle there for years. Here’s the title to the car.” He puts a piece of paper in front of me. “I’ll have it transferred over to your name. The house,” he hands me more papers, “was with your family but was under Edward Harding. But since he’s …” I think he’s thinking of the right words to use, “no longer with us.” Good choice of words. “It’s also yours.”
I don’t even look at the deed. “I don’t want it.”
He nods. “I understand. But everything within the house is also your property. Edward Harding’s attorney-”
“Jesse Ramirez,” I think was his name.
“Right,” he nods. “He handled all of Edward Harding’s estate. Nothing of Edward’s was left to you in his will.” He gives me a funny look. “It’s all left to a daughter he never had, which was supposed to be you, essentially. But, we’re fighting for claim.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want anything of his.” Nothing.
Philip nods. “You know about your mother’s part investment in the Crashdown, correct?” He’s looking at another piece of paper.
I nod. Mrs. Deluca told me.
“I’m negotiating with Charles Whitman in selling your ownership in that.” It’s funny that he says that because, apparently, these are my things, but he’s doing stuff with them. But I just nod because I think it’s probably the good decision. “He’s being very generous.”
And I nod. Mr. Whitman is very generous. He’s a push over too. I think that’s where his son gets it from.
“Your mother had extra saved up in a savings account.” He keeps on going through the papers. “The amount has only grown since she left. The account will be transferred over into your name.”
And I shake my head because “I don’t have a bank account.”
He looks at me. “You do now.”
Oh. Okay. “How much?”
“Here was her bank statement two months ago.” More papers come my way. “The money has just been sitting there and accumulating.”
I look at the number. Oh. Okay. Wow. “I guess I’m set for a while, huh?”
He nods but then frowns. “There should be about twenty times this amount in a separate checking account that was your grandparents’, but when she married Edward Harding, his name was added to that account. And when your mother left, he had her name taken off. But,” he points to the paper I’m holding, “we’ve kept this separate savings account secret from him. The rest of the will is all laid out here.” And I get another pack of papers listing things out.
And I’m just … I just … Hand some of the papers back to him. “I’m good. I … don’t know anything about any of this. You can handle it all, right?” He’s a lawyer, after all.
He smiles and nods his head. “Gladly.”
So “if you were my mom’s lawyer, does that make you my lawyer now too?” If he’s handling things for me now, right?
“If you’ll have me,” he nods.
It’s a good decision, right? Since “you know more about all this than I do.”
He nods. I trust him. After all, my mother did.
“Okay,” he stands up from behind his desk. “If that’s it, you’re welcome to stay for dinner if you’d like.”
“No,” well, wait, “actually, this,” wave my hands around at all the paperwork on his desk. “This isn’t why I came.”
“Oh?” His eyebrows go up.
And if he really cared about my mother like he says, I’m sure he has it. “I’m looking to get a copy of my mom’s murder case file.”
He nods. He goes into another file cabinet, flips through the drawer, and pulls out large manila folders. “Here you go.”
I take it from him. It’s heavy. I nod my thanks.
“I’ve combed through it too. I couldn’t believe the news,” he sighs, still standing, his hands go into his pockets. “But it’s all there.”
And I suddenly remember what the files about. He cared so much about my mom, right? I wonder if he hates my dad. But then, “he didn’t do it, you know.”
He doesn’t believe me. He just stands there, crossing his hands over his chest. “Read the file, Liz. You’ll see.”
I will. But I know in my heart my dad didn’t … couldn’t …
“Oh, wait.” He goes through his desk again. “I have more papers for you to sign, but I want to get this one out of the way, while you’re here.” He unclicks a pen and pulls out even more papers. “It’s papers to change your name. I’m sure you don’t want Harding anymore.”
I look down at the papers. The paperwork says Ross on it.
“It was your mother’s maiden name.” Mr. lawyer-man points out.
That’s my mother. Not me. I don’t sign it. I won’t sign it. I push the papers back. “Could you have it changed to Philips, instead?”
He nods. But I can sense a bit of tension. Yeah, I’m pretty sure he hates my dad.
I look down at the desk filled with folders, packet, and just everything. “You have all of this, but why didn’t you ever tell me?” I mean, I think I would have figured a few more things out easier if I had known. Well, he would have explained a few more things out easier.
“I would have,” he explains, “eventually. At least, by the time you were eighteen. I just wanted to give you time to grieve.”
I nod. I think he’s still grieving my mother’s death himself.
Strange.
He walks me to the door and I leave outside. Alex isn’t there. He must have driven off. The front door opens again. Michael steps out. He has keys in his hands.
I look at him.
He looks at me. “I’m driving you home.”
Oh. “Okay.”
He walks over and unlocks his door. “Max’s house, right?”
I walk over to the passenger side. Max isn’t home though. Max is at another meeting again. “Actually, could you take me to Alex?”
Michael starts the engine. He’s looking straight ahead. “Alex is in Isabel’s room right now.”
What? “But his car isn’t-”
“It’s parked around the corner,” he puts the car in reverse. “He snuck in while you were in the study with my dad.”
“Oh.” I pull my seatbelt on.
That dog. He told me that he didn’t want to face her dad just so that I would distract Mr. Guerin and he could go in to mess around with Isabel behind our backs. I’m actually … shocked. By Alex. I mean, I have a lot of words that I associate with Alex. Sly has never been one of them. Until now.
Michael drives and he pulls his car into Max’s driveway. He puts his car into park.
I sit there. It’s weird being alone with Michael. He’s just so … whatever. “Um … thanks.” My hand goes to the door handle.
“Oh, give me the key to your house and car.”
What? I sit back and look at him. “Why?”
It’s weird the way he talks because he doesn’t seem to have any other mood other than moody. “My dad wants me to check out your car for you.”
Oh. “Okay.” Drop my stack of envelopes and papers into my lap and pull the two keys out of my pocket. “Here. Thanks, Michael.”
“Yeah, well,” he drops the keys in his change compartment. They clink on the quarters, dimes, nickels, and pennies that he keeps in there. “It’s dinner time. I’ll check it out tomorrow.”
Okay. “Thanks.” Exit the car and head for the door.
Max isn’t home. He’s at a meeting. Again. But Larek opens the door for me when I ring the doorbell.
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Did you know that potatoes are a strictly earth veggie. I did not know that. But Larek is just packed with interesting little tidbits like that. He’s teaching me how to make mashed potatoes from scratch. I’ve never made mashed potatoes from scratch before. It’s absurdly simple with the potatoes and the mashing and all.
“So … no potatoes at all?” I think I’ve asked him for like the fifth time already.
“None,” he shakes his head. “Which is fine by me. Earth food is fattening.”
But … “it tastes so good.”
He smiles. I like Larek. He’s like the grandpa/uncle I never had.
We’re peeling potatoes over the sink. It’s something I used to do with my mom. I would peel. Mom would cook. Sigh. New topic. “Wait, so you don’t have French fries either?”
“No,” he shakes his head some more. “Nor baked potatoes. Nor hash browns.”
He says it funny. He rolls the R. I laugh. He smiles. This cooking together with Larek is weird. But nice. But I don’t know if it will last long because I’ve been thinking a lot lately and “I don’t think I should be living here.” I mean, people are bound to be talking and … I just don’t feel all that comfortable here. It’s Max’s home, not mine. And I just … I don’t know.
Larek picks up the last potato to peel. “But you’re more than welcome to stay.”
I know this. He knows I know this. “But my mother had a lot of money set aside for me. I was thinking about getting my own place.” Money really isn’t an issue anymore.
He just nods. “Whatever you desire.”
I walk over to the stove and look at the pot of boiling water. What did she have boiling in the pot? It smelled like potatoes. Was it stew?
“So what are you going to do with this new place you want?” He’s chopping up the potatoes on a cutting board on the counter now.
I go to the sink to wash my hands. “I was thinking about college too.” I mean, I just always expected to go to college. But “I’m kind of late on the applications though.”
He nods, chopping away. “You’re a very intelligent girl. I’m sure you’ll be accepted to whichever school you apply.”
I smile. He thinks I’m smart. Smart enough to go to “an Ivy league?” I mean, I can afford the tuition now.
He shrugs and finishes up cutting the potatoes into cubes. “I don’t know much about schools here on earth. But,” he puts all the potato cubes into a bowl and brings the bowl over to the boiling pot, “our galaxy had some very prestigious ones too, especially on Antar,” he adds that last bit on a light note, pouring the bowl’s contents into the boiling pot.
“Did you go to one?” Do they have butler degrees on Antar?
“No,” he smiles anyway. “My job was secured from birth.”
“Oh. Do you mind being a butler?” He seems like he doesn’t. He seems like he’s happy with this life.
“Mind? Not at all,” he’s shaking his head. “It’s very respectable, caring for the future throne.”
“But Max isn’t …” at least, not anymore.
“He will.” Larek seems so sure.
But “what do you mean?”
“At the moment,” he explains, “things are a bit … shaky. But the people won’t accept Khivar. I’m sure of it.” He adds all these seasonings and thing and puts the lid on the pot and walks to the fridge.
I follow. “How do you know?”
“I may be care taker to the royal family, but I am still a rightful citizen. I don’t accept his rule. I’m sure no one else will either.” He pulls a juice box out of the fridge and hands it to me.
I take it from him. What am I, five? I sit down on a stool and try to poke the straw through. It won’t go. I try again.
Larek takes it from me and he magically gets it done with all his butler skills. “I’m sure of it,” he repeats.
I sip on my juice box and narrow my eyes at him. “I think you’re biased though.”
“Perhaps,” he nods. He has this secretive voice that Juanita has too. Maybe they’re both secret spies in a super secret spy ring.
He sits down on the stool next to me. We’re waiting. What are we waiting for? The potatoes to get done. Why are we making potatoes at this late an hour when dinner’s already over and done? Because I wanted it, gosh-darn-it.
Max isn’t home yet.
Larek pulls out a pencil and starts crossing things off on a pad of paper. The pencil reminds me of Kyle, so I ask him “so what can you do?”
“Do, Miss Liz?” He doesn’t look at me. He’s still crossing things off on his pad of paper.
You know, do. “Like special powers.”
“Oh,” he puts the pad of paper away in his pocket, laughing and shaking his head. “I am not Antarian.”
Wait … “You’re not?” So only people from Antar can do stuff?
“No,” he’s still smiling and shaking his head. “I’m from Vyntra.”
“Oh.” Well. Okay, then.
“But I married an Antarian,” he adds in.
“So … your wife has powers.” Because, you know, she’s Antarian. And apparently, Antarians can, like, do stuff.
He nods his head. “And so did my daughter, yes.”
“So,” wait, “it’s genetic?” He answers me with a nod and it makes sense. Because then it explains the pencil thing I did.
“So …” still waiting for the potatoes to finish, as nonchalantly as possible, “what happened to your daughter?”
He’s looking forward, not at me. He sighs. Am I prying? I am. But I want to know. “She was kidnapped back home.”
Home? What does he consider home? “Antar or … Vvvv-”
“Vyntra,” he says it slow. Alien pronunciations.
I nod. “Right.”
“Neither. We were vacationing on Xenith when it happened,” he just nods, telling me. He doesn’t sound as though he minds me asking. “She was taken from us.”
Taken? But “then …”
“They never found her body,” he answers the question I didn’t ask.
Kidnapping a child? It’s sad. “But I thought your people weren’t the violent type.” Both Larek and Max have said the same thing.
“Antarians aren’t. Xenithians are a different story,” he says it like he’s had some rough and tumble tales with those types.
I just … “Oh.” Larek had said his daughter passed away. “But, if her body was never found, then she could still be-”
“That’s a hope that I gave up on a long time ago,” he talks like a war torn soldier. There’s a lot more to Larek than meets the eye. “She was a very special little girl.”
Really? Like how Max tells me I’m special? Was it because of “her powers?” Or was it something else?
“Yes,” he nods. “She had a very rare ability. She was the only child I’d ever known to have that power.” He sounds proud.
Did my dad ever talk about me like that? What is my special ability? I can move a pencil.
“Her favorite …” he’s looking up. He’s reminiscing. There’s a smile on his face. “Her favorite was changing into a stuffed bear.”
Changing into “a stuffed bear?” What?
He laughs. “You have to understand. She was only a five when we lost her. Still a baby, really.”
Five? What was I doing when I was five? Learning to ride a bike? Having tea-parties with my mom? I can’t even imagine.
“And my wife,” he keeps going, “she passed away two years after the kidnapping.”
Oh. Double sorry. How does Larek hide all this pain? I lived in my head and walled away mine until I was climbing the walls, but … Larek doesn’t seem like the type to do that.
He stands up from the stool with a sigh. “It’s all in the past. I’ve cared for Maxwell since his birth. He’s like a son to me now.”
And I nod. The protectiveness. The care. “I see that.” This isn’t really work for him then, is it? “Where is Max,” anyway? It’s getting late.
“Another meeting,” Larek checks on the potatoes.
I stay seated on the stool. I nod. I know. “There are a lot of those lately.”
Larek nods. He turns down the heat. “They have a lot to discuss.”
“What do they talk about?” Khivar? Planets and thrones?
I look at him and Larek is giving me a funny look. “They’re trying to convince Maxwell to give you up.”
“What?” And what Max told me at Alex’s replays in my head. Alien babies and special blood. I shudder.
“No worries, poppet,” he smiles at me. “I know Maxwell. He won’t budge. He won’t hand you over to Khivar.” He sighs.
I sigh. Is this my fate?
Larek has a serious look on his face. “Most everyone on earth doesn’t want that for you either. Some are just … worried. It isn’t your fault that you are who you are. You had no idea. For all your superior genetics, you were raised human. It’s all you’ve ever known.”
Superior genetics? I’m my mother’s child alright. With Daddy’s muddy eyes. How can they want me? I’ve seen myself through my eyes. I can’t see myself through theirs. I’m a short, plain, mousy nerd. And people are arguing over me and discussing my fate in some secret building? It’s laughable. I mean, “What could honestly happen if I’m not handed overto Khivar?”
“That’s to be seen.” He turns off the stove. “Maxwell’s father left Maxwell to run the earth colony. As a test run at ruling, I suppose.
“Max runs the earth … colony?”
Larek laughs. “Passively, if at all. We govern ourselves. The Council take a more active role.”
“Council,” yeah, “right.”
He takes the lid off the pot and I can smell the potatoes. “It’s only recently Max has shown interest in his position,” he shrugs like it’s no big deal.
But I know. It’s “because of me?”
“Possibly,” he says, softly.
But I know. I stand up and walk over to him, my juice box abandoned. “So what’s the worst that could happen with Khivar?”
“The very worst?” his eyes go big and he’s thinking. “I guess, we could all be killed, for defiance. But that’s highly unlikely.”
What?! “Killed?”
“Highly unlikely,” he repeats firmly, the way all old people know how to do.
But … “how do you know for sure?” Killed?
Larek shakes his head. “We aren’t violent people.”
But, but, “but you said Zzz-”
“Xenith,” again with the slow pronunciation.
“Right, Xenith,” the evil planet. “You said Xenith was different.” They are grr. And “isn’t that the planet that rebelled, the planet Khivar is from?”
He nods and opens up a drawer.
Killed? What is Max thinking?
I look at Larek. He’s holding up this thing with a circle kind of grid on one side of it with a smile, “mashing time.”
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Last edited by Evelynn on Mon Aug 27, 2007 1:47 am, edited 3 times in total.
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Chapter Thirty Two:
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Max didn’t come home last night. Was I worried? Only a lot.
Slept in my designated room. Larek came in to wake me up in the morning.
“Breakfast, Miss Elizabeth,” he says, pulling back the curtains.
But I was already awake. Or did I just not sleep? Either way, I’m up.
Stand up from the bed and Larek goes about making it for me. “Mr. Alex Whitman is waiting for you in the kitchen.”
Nod my head and head down the stairs in my pajamas to meet him, grabbing my backpack along the way. Alex is here. Why is he here? Because it’s Saturday and I asked him to come.
Alex smiles from where he’s seated in a stool.
Sit down next to him and put my backpack on the counter.
“My dad’s thinking about replacing you,” he opens up, sipping on a cup of coffee.
Wait… “What?” Where did this come from?
He puts his cup down. “It’s just that you haven’t been to work for a while and they weren’t sure if you’d want to come back.”
Not want to come back? “But-”
“It’s not like you need the money.” He’s pointing out the obvious.
And if all the Mr. Guerin said was true, then Alex is right. I don’t really need the money anymore. “But-”
“Do you still want to work?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” I mean, I liked working. It gave me something to do. It gave me a bit of purpose. It helped me settle a bit. But, should I really worry about working right now? When I don’t really need the money?
“Well,” he gives me his lopsided apologetic grin, “just thought I’d let you know.”
I nod because Alex is right. I mean I haven’t been in to work in a while and the Crashdown needs all the waitstaff it has. But… how could Mr. Whitman fire me? I know it’s not settled yet, but I still have some claim to the place. At least, a small percentage anyway.
Which gets me thinking. “Did your parents know about me?”
“Know what about you?” He waves his hand over his coffee cup and I can see steam coming from the top from the heated liquid inside.
And I stare. “Did you just make steam come out of your hand?”
“No.” He laughs. “I heated up the coffee. What you do is-”
“Alex,” I have to stop him before he babbles on and I lose my train of thought, “explain it to me some other time. It’s just that, Philip Guerin knew my mom’s real identity and so knew that I was… kind of… like you. But did your parents know? Since my mom, like, invested into your parent’s restaurant. And that was under the name Anna Philips. So did your parents know who she really was?”
“I don’t think so,” he shakes his head. “Your mom’s investment in the Crashdown was one of Philip’s doing, under her name and money. I think. There’s a lot of investments he’s made. Like, the movie theater. And the UFO museum, which, although it doesn’t look like it, makes a whole lot of money.”
Huh… “wow.”
“So is that all you called me over for, Liz?” He downs his coffee. “Because it’s Saturday morning and I’m missing my cartoons here.”
IGlare at him and pull open my backpack. “So I was going through my father’s case, right?”
“Yeah,” he nods.
“And all of the other paperwork that Mr. Guerin gave me yesterday?”
“Yeah,” he nods again.
“And I don’t understand it.” I pull out the huge stack of paperwork. It’s not that I don’t really understand it. It’s more like it gives me a headache when I look at the mountain of paperwork.
Alex starts with the top file and starts going through it with all his super geniusness while Larek is busy making us breakfast. And I’m sitting there, dangling my feet. Because, you know, I’m short like that.
A “huh” comes from Alex.
What does that mean? Huh?
“Well,” his eyes are still going over all the lines at his super-genius speed reading pace, his lips quirked to one side, “it’s pretty open-shut, Liz. Well, as open-shut as a case can be.”
Everyone says that. But what does that mean? Open-shut.
Larek puts plates of food on the counter in front of us and leaves the kitchen.
“I mean,” Alex grabs a piece of toast off of his plate and somehow manages to eat and talk at the same time. “There were witnesses of neighbors seeing your father come home that night. Many neighbors reporting that your parents were very prone to fighting often.” He flips the page, eyes roaming over more text and more food entering his mouth. “The gun even had your father’s fingerprints on it. You were even just upstairs when it happened. And you told the police that you remember seeing your father just minutes before the gun went off.” He’s watching me while throwing the last few facts out there.
And I just… I shake my head. “But my dad didn’t do it.”
Alex gives me a look. I know he doesn’t believe me. But “I just feel it in my heart. I know my dad didn’t do it.”
Alex takes a deep breath and I watch my feet dangle a bit. “What it says probably happened was that,” he takes another deep breath. “It seems that your mother might have been having an affair and your father found out and was… upset about it.”
“Affair?” the word tastes foreign to me.
“Yeah.” He nods.
Wait… “what?”
“Well, according to these reports,” he’s flipping back and looking back through the pages again, “your mom frequently left for lengthy trips out of town, right?”
Nod my head. Mom’s little vacations.
“Well, I don’t know what to tell you, Liz.” And he gives me this sympathetic smile.
Shake my head. My parents had their problems and arguments but mom wouldn’t… and dad… “my dad didn’t do it.”
He turns away from the stack of papers and faces me. “Where would your mom go when she left town?”
Shake my head and shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know.”
He gives me a funny look. “Who would she go see?”
Shrug my shoulders and shake my head. “I don’t know.”
Again with another funny look. “What would she do?”
Shake my shoulders and shrug my head. “I don’t know.”
I think he might be getting the point that I don’t know very much about mom’s little vacations. “How often would she leave?”
That answer I knew. “Every few months.”
I sit and wait and Alex goes back to combing through the papers again. After a while, he speaks up. “Well, your phone records have calls to Santa Fe in clumps every few months.” He looks at me. “Do you know anyone in Santa Fe?”
I think about it for a second and shake my head. “Nope, can’t say that I do.”
“Did your mom or dad?” He asks, flipping through more of the paperwork.
Not that I know of. Dad pretty much kept to some of his beer buddies in town. Other than the Parkers, I don’t think he kept in contact with anyone else. So it had to be mom. And then I remember something.
I go through my bag and pull out an envelope. The one with Elizabeth written on it. In her handwriting. Hand it to Alex. “It’s a key to a safety deposit box my mom left me. It’s in Santa Fe.”
“Well,” he stops looking through the mountain of paperwork and looks inside the envelope, “if you want answers, I think that’s our first place to look.”
I don’t know. There are just so many questions and so much I don’t know. So much that I never bothered to try to find out. And my mom had this whole other life that I had no clue of. I just… I don’t understand it. If she was such a big person, played such a big role in this alien society, then “how come they never found her?”
“What do you mean?” Alex is staring at the key.
“I mean, everyone was looking for her, right?” At least, that’s what Kyle told me. They were using all their resources, government officials, everything. “How did she go hidden for so long?”
He finally puts the key back into the envelope and shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know. Unless…” You can just see his mighty brain working. “Unless, she had help on the inside. Someone to steer everyone in the wrong direction. Because from what I read and remember, it was rumored that she was in California.”
Shake my head. “We’ve never been to California.” So he thinks someone helped keep my mom from being found. “Philip Guerin?”
“No,” Alex laughs. “I doubt Mr. Guerin could have helped her in hiding. He doesn’t have that much power.”
Not much power, but he knew where she was. He told me. And that everyone searched everywhere for her and he knew. But he never told. Conclusion, Philip Guerin is a very good liar.
So if it wasn’t him, then “do you think someone else helped her?” I ask.
“What do you think is in Santa Fe?” Alex seems obsessed with the key.
Shake my head. “I have no idea.” Maybe it’s jewels or stacks of cash or bars of gold. Who knew what my mom kept locked up.
“Well,” Alex smiles at me, standing up, “we’re going to find out.” He pulls out his keys.
Wait, we’re going to Santa Fe? “Right now?”
He nods. “No better time than the present.”
I think it over. But there’s not really a lot that I have to think about. “Okay. Let me go change.”
Rush upstairs, still in my pajamas and I walk in to find Larek in my room, dusting and what-not.
He sees me going through my drawers and pulling out clothes. “Are you leaving, Miss Elizabeth?”
“Yes,” I nod, busy finding clothes. “Alex and I are going out of town. We’ll be back tonight… I think.” I’m not quite sure. Maybe I should pack extra clothes, just in case.
“Well, perhaps you should inform Master Evans. He was extremely worried the last time you left town.” Larek picks up the phone and holds it out for me.
I look at him. Max was pretty worried. And I mean, I am staying in his house. And Larek has this parenting look on his face. And I give in. “Okay.”
Larek dials the number for me and hands me the phone.
I take it from him, holding it to my ear. He leaves the room.
It rings once. Twice. Three times. No answer. Hang up the phone. Larek can tell him where I am.
I change into jeans and a t-shirt. Pool all my papers into my backpack and walk with Alex out of the house and to his car.
--------------
I planned on going through the papers some more on the long drive to Santa Fe. But it didn’t work out that way. No, I ended up asleep most of the time. Or, rather, the whole ride there, until Alex wakes me up five hours later.
“We’re here,” he says in a chippery voice.
I sit up, groggy with various parts of my body still asleep. “Where’s here?”
He holds up the key to the safety deposit box. “Key. Box. Answers.”
“Oh.” And that wakes me up and I get out of the car.
Alex and I then spend the next half an hour looking for box number 174636 until we finally opt to ask for help.
“I’m sorry. We don’t have that box number,” says the lady behind the counter.
“What?” Both Alex and I say at the same time.
“Our boxes end at 174635,” the woman speaks in a slow voice. “We don’t have that box number.”
“But…” Alex digs in his pockets, “this paper has this address and this box number with this key.” Alex seems flustered. Alex seems angry.
“May I see?” Alex hands her the paper. She looks at it. She looks at us. And then she goes back into the back area and hands the paper off to a Native American dude, pointing our way.
He walks towards us. His name tag says R.D. He eyes Alex down and then looks at me. “I am sorry, ma’am, but our boxes end at 174635,” he says a little too loudly.
And then he leans forward and whispers, “meet me out back in an hour.” And with that, he leaves to go back into the back room.
Alex and I both turn and walk away slowly, out the door. We walk out to the back of the building and sit there on the curb, counting the seconds down.
And after at least fifteen rounds of twenty questions, the back door opens and the guy with R.D. on his name tag comes through the door, carrying a big metal box. He puts the box down beside me, eyes Alex down again, and walks right back through the door.
There’s this tension in the air. What’s in the box? What’s mom hiding? Tick tick tick.
Alex pulls out the key and hands it to me. I think we’re both holding our breaths while I stick the key in the slot. Twist the key… but it won’t go. “Alex,” call him while I’m struggling with the stuck key. “It’s stuck. It won’t turn.”
“What?” He takes over and I watch while he can’t get the key to turn either until he finally gives up and we both slump back on the corner, a sense of anticlimactic-ness in the air.
Alex carries the box to the front of the building and I follow. We get into the car and I think we’re both a little disappointed.
Alex starts the engine and pulls out of the parking lot.
I think he wanted to see what was in the box more than I did.
“It’s not a loss.” I’m trying to cheer him up. “I mean, we got the box, we just have to find another way to open it.”
He sighs. “Yeah. It’s just… I don’t know.”
It’s funny because this is my mom’s secret life and yet “you really want to see what’s in that box, don’t you? Why?”
He thinks the question over a bit… “I saw something.”
“Saw what?” Saw something in the box?
He seems very agitated. Very frustrated. “When you handed me the key this morning, I got a flash.”
“A flash?” What?
“Never mind. I’ll explain it to you later.” Alex is in a grumpy mood and when Alex is this way, you don’t push the issue. “Let’s find something to eat. I think I saw a fast food place down this way.” He stops at the light and signals left.
My hand goes to the steering wheel, this weird sense coming over me, like a tingling in the back of my head. “Go right.”
Alex switches the signal to turn right but gives me this weird look. “Why?”
Shake my head. “I don’t know.” I can’t explain it. But I just… “I want to go right.”
The light turns green and he turns the steering wheel, going down the direction I wanted.
We drive down the road for a few more minutes and then I get the tingling feeling in the back of my head again. Maybe I’m just really hungry. Maybe I’m so hungry that I can just sense the food because soon, we drive up to a small diner. I point at it. “Let’s eat there.”
Alex signals and turns into the small parking lot.
Why I want to eat here? I have no idea. Maybe it’s the fact that it looks kind of oddly similar in structure to the Crashdown. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just so hungry I want to eat anywhere. I don’t know. But I don’t dwell over it because Alex is already getting out of the car and I follow suit.
A bell chimes when we open the door and a sign that says ‘Please Seat Yourself’ has us picking a booth near the front.
There aren’t many other people in the diner. Two guys in a booth across the way talking in angry hushed voices to each other. One table and a booth filled with what are obviously tourists, having maps on the table and cameras around their necks. And another guy with wavy goldish brown hair, sitting with his back to us at the counter wearing a nice suit and looking out of place.
The one waitress behind the counter takes her time in getting to us. And I can only think that if any one of us were this slow and inhospitable at the Crashdown, Mr. Whitman would be on our asses.
She puts two menus on the table. “Welcome. Soup of the day is clam chowder. Can I start you off with a beverage?”
Something feels funny. I look over at the counter, at the man in the suit. He’s sitting straight, sipping his coffee.
Then my eyes go to the two men sitting in the booth, obviously arguing and mad at each other. They’re getting louder. It’s to the point where I can start to pick up bits and pieces of their conversation. They’re arguing over money. One of the guys wants it. The other one can’t give it.
“Liz. Liz!”
My head picks up. Huh? “What?”
Turn to see Alex waving a hand in front of my face. The waitress gone. “Are you okay? You zoned out there for a bit. I ordered you a cherry coke.”
“Oh.” Okay. “Thanks.”
A beeping noise goes off and I watch Alex as he pulls a cell phone out of his pant pocket. He looks at the screen to see who’s calling and mouths the word ‘Max’ to me before pushing the talk button, bringing the phone up to his ear. “Talk to me.”
And I would have rolled my eyes and scoffed at Alex’s choice of words if my eyes weren’t already going back to the man in the suit and then to the two men fighting, with an ear open to Alex’s conversation.
Alex goes, “wait. What?”
The man in the suit sips his coffee.
The man who wants his money is pounding the table, talking in a loud voice.
The other man is arguing back, talking just as loud.
Alex goes, “Max you need to calm down. Now one at a time, explain.”
The man in the suit turns and looks at me with familiar eyes.
The man who wants his money is standing up in the booth and yelling down at the other man for his money.
The other man stands up too, telling him he’ll never get his money.
Alex goes, “oh god. Max-”
The man in the suit gives me a knowing smile.
The man who wants his money pulls out a gun, cocking it and is about to pull the trigger.
The other man shoves the guy’s arm away, the gun pointing at me.
BANG!
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Chapter Thirty Two:
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Max didn’t come home last night. Was I worried? Only a lot.
Slept in my designated room. Larek came in to wake me up in the morning.
“Breakfast, Miss Elizabeth,” he says, pulling back the curtains.
But I was already awake. Or did I just not sleep? Either way, I’m up.
Stand up from the bed and Larek goes about making it for me. “Mr. Alex Whitman is waiting for you in the kitchen.”
Nod my head and head down the stairs in my pajamas to meet him, grabbing my backpack along the way. Alex is here. Why is he here? Because it’s Saturday and I asked him to come.
Alex smiles from where he’s seated in a stool.
Sit down next to him and put my backpack on the counter.
“My dad’s thinking about replacing you,” he opens up, sipping on a cup of coffee.
Wait… “What?” Where did this come from?
He puts his cup down. “It’s just that you haven’t been to work for a while and they weren’t sure if you’d want to come back.”
Not want to come back? “But-”
“It’s not like you need the money.” He’s pointing out the obvious.
And if all the Mr. Guerin said was true, then Alex is right. I don’t really need the money anymore. “But-”
“Do you still want to work?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” I mean, I liked working. It gave me something to do. It gave me a bit of purpose. It helped me settle a bit. But, should I really worry about working right now? When I don’t really need the money?
“Well,” he gives me his lopsided apologetic grin, “just thought I’d let you know.”
I nod because Alex is right. I mean I haven’t been in to work in a while and the Crashdown needs all the waitstaff it has. But… how could Mr. Whitman fire me? I know it’s not settled yet, but I still have some claim to the place. At least, a small percentage anyway.
Which gets me thinking. “Did your parents know about me?”
“Know what about you?” He waves his hand over his coffee cup and I can see steam coming from the top from the heated liquid inside.
And I stare. “Did you just make steam come out of your hand?”
“No.” He laughs. “I heated up the coffee. What you do is-”
“Alex,” I have to stop him before he babbles on and I lose my train of thought, “explain it to me some other time. It’s just that, Philip Guerin knew my mom’s real identity and so knew that I was… kind of… like you. But did your parents know? Since my mom, like, invested into your parent’s restaurant. And that was under the name Anna Philips. So did your parents know who she really was?”
“I don’t think so,” he shakes his head. “Your mom’s investment in the Crashdown was one of Philip’s doing, under her name and money. I think. There’s a lot of investments he’s made. Like, the movie theater. And the UFO museum, which, although it doesn’t look like it, makes a whole lot of money.”
Huh… “wow.”
“So is that all you called me over for, Liz?” He downs his coffee. “Because it’s Saturday morning and I’m missing my cartoons here.”
IGlare at him and pull open my backpack. “So I was going through my father’s case, right?”
“Yeah,” he nods.
“And all of the other paperwork that Mr. Guerin gave me yesterday?”
“Yeah,” he nods again.
“And I don’t understand it.” I pull out the huge stack of paperwork. It’s not that I don’t really understand it. It’s more like it gives me a headache when I look at the mountain of paperwork.
Alex starts with the top file and starts going through it with all his super geniusness while Larek is busy making us breakfast. And I’m sitting there, dangling my feet. Because, you know, I’m short like that.
A “huh” comes from Alex.
What does that mean? Huh?
“Well,” his eyes are still going over all the lines at his super-genius speed reading pace, his lips quirked to one side, “it’s pretty open-shut, Liz. Well, as open-shut as a case can be.”
Everyone says that. But what does that mean? Open-shut.
Larek puts plates of food on the counter in front of us and leaves the kitchen.
“I mean,” Alex grabs a piece of toast off of his plate and somehow manages to eat and talk at the same time. “There were witnesses of neighbors seeing your father come home that night. Many neighbors reporting that your parents were very prone to fighting often.” He flips the page, eyes roaming over more text and more food entering his mouth. “The gun even had your father’s fingerprints on it. You were even just upstairs when it happened. And you told the police that you remember seeing your father just minutes before the gun went off.” He’s watching me while throwing the last few facts out there.
And I just… I shake my head. “But my dad didn’t do it.”
Alex gives me a look. I know he doesn’t believe me. But “I just feel it in my heart. I know my dad didn’t do it.”
Alex takes a deep breath and I watch my feet dangle a bit. “What it says probably happened was that,” he takes another deep breath. “It seems that your mother might have been having an affair and your father found out and was… upset about it.”
“Affair?” the word tastes foreign to me.
“Yeah.” He nods.
Wait… “what?”
“Well, according to these reports,” he’s flipping back and looking back through the pages again, “your mom frequently left for lengthy trips out of town, right?”
Nod my head. Mom’s little vacations.
“Well, I don’t know what to tell you, Liz.” And he gives me this sympathetic smile.
Shake my head. My parents had their problems and arguments but mom wouldn’t… and dad… “my dad didn’t do it.”
He turns away from the stack of papers and faces me. “Where would your mom go when she left town?”
Shake my head and shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know.”
He gives me a funny look. “Who would she go see?”
Shrug my shoulders and shake my head. “I don’t know.”
Again with another funny look. “What would she do?”
Shake my shoulders and shrug my head. “I don’t know.”
I think he might be getting the point that I don’t know very much about mom’s little vacations. “How often would she leave?”
That answer I knew. “Every few months.”
I sit and wait and Alex goes back to combing through the papers again. After a while, he speaks up. “Well, your phone records have calls to Santa Fe in clumps every few months.” He looks at me. “Do you know anyone in Santa Fe?”
I think about it for a second and shake my head. “Nope, can’t say that I do.”
“Did your mom or dad?” He asks, flipping through more of the paperwork.
Not that I know of. Dad pretty much kept to some of his beer buddies in town. Other than the Parkers, I don’t think he kept in contact with anyone else. So it had to be mom. And then I remember something.
I go through my bag and pull out an envelope. The one with Elizabeth written on it. In her handwriting. Hand it to Alex. “It’s a key to a safety deposit box my mom left me. It’s in Santa Fe.”
“Well,” he stops looking through the mountain of paperwork and looks inside the envelope, “if you want answers, I think that’s our first place to look.”
I don’t know. There are just so many questions and so much I don’t know. So much that I never bothered to try to find out. And my mom had this whole other life that I had no clue of. I just… I don’t understand it. If she was such a big person, played such a big role in this alien society, then “how come they never found her?”
“What do you mean?” Alex is staring at the key.
“I mean, everyone was looking for her, right?” At least, that’s what Kyle told me. They were using all their resources, government officials, everything. “How did she go hidden for so long?”
He finally puts the key back into the envelope and shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know. Unless…” You can just see his mighty brain working. “Unless, she had help on the inside. Someone to steer everyone in the wrong direction. Because from what I read and remember, it was rumored that she was in California.”
Shake my head. “We’ve never been to California.” So he thinks someone helped keep my mom from being found. “Philip Guerin?”
“No,” Alex laughs. “I doubt Mr. Guerin could have helped her in hiding. He doesn’t have that much power.”
Not much power, but he knew where she was. He told me. And that everyone searched everywhere for her and he knew. But he never told. Conclusion, Philip Guerin is a very good liar.
So if it wasn’t him, then “do you think someone else helped her?” I ask.
“What do you think is in Santa Fe?” Alex seems obsessed with the key.
Shake my head. “I have no idea.” Maybe it’s jewels or stacks of cash or bars of gold. Who knew what my mom kept locked up.
“Well,” Alex smiles at me, standing up, “we’re going to find out.” He pulls out his keys.
Wait, we’re going to Santa Fe? “Right now?”
He nods. “No better time than the present.”
I think it over. But there’s not really a lot that I have to think about. “Okay. Let me go change.”
Rush upstairs, still in my pajamas and I walk in to find Larek in my room, dusting and what-not.
He sees me going through my drawers and pulling out clothes. “Are you leaving, Miss Elizabeth?”
“Yes,” I nod, busy finding clothes. “Alex and I are going out of town. We’ll be back tonight… I think.” I’m not quite sure. Maybe I should pack extra clothes, just in case.
“Well, perhaps you should inform Master Evans. He was extremely worried the last time you left town.” Larek picks up the phone and holds it out for me.
I look at him. Max was pretty worried. And I mean, I am staying in his house. And Larek has this parenting look on his face. And I give in. “Okay.”
Larek dials the number for me and hands me the phone.
I take it from him, holding it to my ear. He leaves the room.
It rings once. Twice. Three times. No answer. Hang up the phone. Larek can tell him where I am.
I change into jeans and a t-shirt. Pool all my papers into my backpack and walk with Alex out of the house and to his car.
--------------
I planned on going through the papers some more on the long drive to Santa Fe. But it didn’t work out that way. No, I ended up asleep most of the time. Or, rather, the whole ride there, until Alex wakes me up five hours later.
“We’re here,” he says in a chippery voice.
I sit up, groggy with various parts of my body still asleep. “Where’s here?”
He holds up the key to the safety deposit box. “Key. Box. Answers.”
“Oh.” And that wakes me up and I get out of the car.
Alex and I then spend the next half an hour looking for box number 174636 until we finally opt to ask for help.
“I’m sorry. We don’t have that box number,” says the lady behind the counter.
“What?” Both Alex and I say at the same time.
“Our boxes end at 174635,” the woman speaks in a slow voice. “We don’t have that box number.”
“But…” Alex digs in his pockets, “this paper has this address and this box number with this key.” Alex seems flustered. Alex seems angry.
“May I see?” Alex hands her the paper. She looks at it. She looks at us. And then she goes back into the back area and hands the paper off to a Native American dude, pointing our way.
He walks towards us. His name tag says R.D. He eyes Alex down and then looks at me. “I am sorry, ma’am, but our boxes end at 174635,” he says a little too loudly.
And then he leans forward and whispers, “meet me out back in an hour.” And with that, he leaves to go back into the back room.
Alex and I both turn and walk away slowly, out the door. We walk out to the back of the building and sit there on the curb, counting the seconds down.
And after at least fifteen rounds of twenty questions, the back door opens and the guy with R.D. on his name tag comes through the door, carrying a big metal box. He puts the box down beside me, eyes Alex down again, and walks right back through the door.
There’s this tension in the air. What’s in the box? What’s mom hiding? Tick tick tick.
Alex pulls out the key and hands it to me. I think we’re both holding our breaths while I stick the key in the slot. Twist the key… but it won’t go. “Alex,” call him while I’m struggling with the stuck key. “It’s stuck. It won’t turn.”
“What?” He takes over and I watch while he can’t get the key to turn either until he finally gives up and we both slump back on the corner, a sense of anticlimactic-ness in the air.
Alex carries the box to the front of the building and I follow. We get into the car and I think we’re both a little disappointed.
Alex starts the engine and pulls out of the parking lot.
I think he wanted to see what was in the box more than I did.
“It’s not a loss.” I’m trying to cheer him up. “I mean, we got the box, we just have to find another way to open it.”
He sighs. “Yeah. It’s just… I don’t know.”
It’s funny because this is my mom’s secret life and yet “you really want to see what’s in that box, don’t you? Why?”
He thinks the question over a bit… “I saw something.”
“Saw what?” Saw something in the box?
He seems very agitated. Very frustrated. “When you handed me the key this morning, I got a flash.”
“A flash?” What?
“Never mind. I’ll explain it to you later.” Alex is in a grumpy mood and when Alex is this way, you don’t push the issue. “Let’s find something to eat. I think I saw a fast food place down this way.” He stops at the light and signals left.
My hand goes to the steering wheel, this weird sense coming over me, like a tingling in the back of my head. “Go right.”
Alex switches the signal to turn right but gives me this weird look. “Why?”
Shake my head. “I don’t know.” I can’t explain it. But I just… “I want to go right.”
The light turns green and he turns the steering wheel, going down the direction I wanted.
We drive down the road for a few more minutes and then I get the tingling feeling in the back of my head again. Maybe I’m just really hungry. Maybe I’m so hungry that I can just sense the food because soon, we drive up to a small diner. I point at it. “Let’s eat there.”
Alex signals and turns into the small parking lot.
Why I want to eat here? I have no idea. Maybe it’s the fact that it looks kind of oddly similar in structure to the Crashdown. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just so hungry I want to eat anywhere. I don’t know. But I don’t dwell over it because Alex is already getting out of the car and I follow suit.
A bell chimes when we open the door and a sign that says ‘Please Seat Yourself’ has us picking a booth near the front.
There aren’t many other people in the diner. Two guys in a booth across the way talking in angry hushed voices to each other. One table and a booth filled with what are obviously tourists, having maps on the table and cameras around their necks. And another guy with wavy goldish brown hair, sitting with his back to us at the counter wearing a nice suit and looking out of place.
The one waitress behind the counter takes her time in getting to us. And I can only think that if any one of us were this slow and inhospitable at the Crashdown, Mr. Whitman would be on our asses.
She puts two menus on the table. “Welcome. Soup of the day is clam chowder. Can I start you off with a beverage?”
Something feels funny. I look over at the counter, at the man in the suit. He’s sitting straight, sipping his coffee.
Then my eyes go to the two men sitting in the booth, obviously arguing and mad at each other. They’re getting louder. It’s to the point where I can start to pick up bits and pieces of their conversation. They’re arguing over money. One of the guys wants it. The other one can’t give it.
“Liz. Liz!”
My head picks up. Huh? “What?”
Turn to see Alex waving a hand in front of my face. The waitress gone. “Are you okay? You zoned out there for a bit. I ordered you a cherry coke.”
“Oh.” Okay. “Thanks.”
A beeping noise goes off and I watch Alex as he pulls a cell phone out of his pant pocket. He looks at the screen to see who’s calling and mouths the word ‘Max’ to me before pushing the talk button, bringing the phone up to his ear. “Talk to me.”
And I would have rolled my eyes and scoffed at Alex’s choice of words if my eyes weren’t already going back to the man in the suit and then to the two men fighting, with an ear open to Alex’s conversation.
Alex goes, “wait. What?”
The man in the suit sips his coffee.
The man who wants his money is pounding the table, talking in a loud voice.
The other man is arguing back, talking just as loud.
Alex goes, “Max you need to calm down. Now one at a time, explain.”
The man in the suit turns and looks at me with familiar eyes.
The man who wants his money is standing up in the booth and yelling down at the other man for his money.
The other man stands up too, telling him he’ll never get his money.
Alex goes, “oh god. Max-”
The man in the suit gives me a knowing smile.
The man who wants his money pulls out a gun, cocking it and is about to pull the trigger.
The other man shoves the guy’s arm away, the gun pointing at me.
BANG!
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Last edited by Evelynn on Sat Sep 16, 2006 6:46 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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Chapter Thirty Three:
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You know how they say your life flashes before your eyes when you are about to die?
That is not true. Well, at least it wasn’t in this case. My last near death experience just opened up some pushed away memories. But this time, nothing. I couldn’t even breathe. All I could do was wait for the pain that I knew was coming…
It never came.
I look around the diner again and Alex is frantic and yelling and screaming into the phone at Max. He’s trying to say something but all he can get out is, “oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.”
The table and booth of tourists are frantic and trying to duck away, covering their mouths and faces with their hands.
The waitress behind the counter is frozen still, her body trembling and a look of horror on her face.
But the two men fighting are gone. No gun. No trace of them. Just vanished. Were they even there? Or was I just imagining it?
And I’m left with everyone either gawking and staring at me, horrified, or covering their eyes in fear.
The man in the suit stands from his seat at the counter, facing me with a knowing smile on his lips.
Recognition pops in my head from the wavy goldish brown hair and cold eyes, but not knowing where I remember him from.
He walks over slowly and it’s as though everyone else is frozen in time, staring in my direction as though I’d been shot.
…But I hadn’t. I’m fine.
The man in the suit comes to standing before me. He looks down at me from where I’m seated in the booth, staring at him. His voice is clean but rough with a hint of an accent. “Come with me, Elizabeth.”
And I can just stare at him. Is this a dream? “What’s going on?”
He ignores my question. “Come with me, love.”
And I can just shake my head and stare at Alex before my eyes go to the man standing in front of me again with his stylish suit and cold eyes.
He’s waiting for my answer, as though I needed to give it to him. “No.”
Confusion is written on my face while his is adorned with a knowing smile and cold eyes. His hand reaches out and strokes my cheek, softly.
I can’t stop him. And I can only stare back at the man, mesmerized by his clean but rough voice. “You say that now. Just wait, love. You’ll change your mind soon enough.”
And with that, he walks out through the front door. The bell dinging above it seems to wake everyone from their stupor and people start moving in real time again, all staring my way once more.
“Oh my god!” Alex is screaming again and all eyes are on me.
The two men fighting pop back up again where they should have been, but weren’t a second ago.
Both of them run out the door.
My eyes are wide and I look to Alex. “We have to go.”
“What?” He’s still frantic and shocked and staring at me.
“We have to go.” I think the distress in my voice and face left no room for questions. He grabs my arm and rushes me out, hopping into the car and screeches away.
Once we covered at least half a mile’s distance and our breathing was normal again, Alex spoke up. “What the hell happened back there?”
I could just shake my head, my voice coming out in a low whisper, “I don’t know.”
--------------
I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep for even a wink the entire return trip back. Alex’s phone goes off for like maybe the tenth time in his pocket. I didn’t hear it at first because my mind was just out of it. “Are you going to get that?”
Something tells me that Alex’s brain was running away from him too. “What? Huh?”
“Your phone.” I point towards his vibrating pant pocket.
“Oh, yeah.” He’s blinking a lot. I think he’s trying to blink himself back into conscious reality. He shifts down in his seat and pulls the phone out, pushing a button and holding it to his ear. “Yeah?”
And I can hear Max’s voice booming over so loudly that Alex has to hold the phone away from his ear in order to hear him.
And Max screams, “what the hell is going on?!”
And I watch Alex as he shakes his head, even though Max can’t see him. “I don’t know, man.”
And Max asks, “Is Liz okay?”
Alex looks over at me, looking me up and down, confusion and worry in his eyes, his voice shaky, “she… yeah, she looks fine.”
And Max’s voice gets a little softer, just a little, “let me talk to her.”
Alex looks at me and I think the look that I give him makes him put the phone right back to his ear. “She’s pretty shook up, man. I’ll tell her call you again once she’s calmed down.”
I don’t hear the rest of their conversation.
Alex is right. I’m still feeling strange from the whole thing. Although the man in the suit barely touched me, there was just a sense of violation in it all.
Alex hangs up the phone and the questions start. “So… Liz… what did happen back there?”
“What do you mean?” I play dumb. I know what he means. I just… feel as though I shouldn’t talk about it. Like, whoever that man was, he was… someone big… I don’t know. As though I should know who he is, only he doesn’t want me to know yet. And once he’s ready, I’ll find out.
It’s so confusing.
“Back in the diner,” there’s agitation in his voice now. “I mean, I was talking to Max. And those guys with the gun. And BAM! And I saw it hit you Liz. I saw the bullet hit you. I saw blood coming out. Blood. Red icky looking blood.”
I watch his hands on the steering wheel, his knuckles white from holding too hard.
“And then,” he’s caught up in the memory of it, gabbering on and on. “And then… and then… nothing. And then you’re sitting there like nothing happened. No blood, no bullet, nothing. I just…” he lets out a big overdramatic sigh. “I know what I saw, Liz. But what did you see happen?”
I turn to stare out the passenger side window. “I’ll tell you later, Alex.”
He doesn’t push it. I think he’s still trying to process everything out himself as well.
We spend the rest of the trip home in silence.
--------------
It was dark by the time we got back into town. Both of us were tired and hungry. Well, at least I knew that I was tired and hungry.
Alex drives down Antarian Avenue to drop me off at Max’s house. The light is on and the garage door is open to the house across the street, the house that used to be my house. Yeah… whatever…
Michael kind of waves at us, looking up from under the hood of a car. Apparently, what was my mother’s car, now my car. Do I even remember how to drive? Is my license still active?
Alex pulls into the Max’s driveway and parks his car. I open the car door and pull my backpack and duffle bag out with me. Alex carries the big metal safety deposit box to the front door.
Larek opens the door without us having to knock or ring the doorbell. He does this with his super-duper butler skills. He takes the box from Alex.
I look at Alex and he looks at me and we just grunt our goodbyes. We’re both exhausted. I mean, Alex did just spend ten hours driving there and back. And I sat right there next to him the whole time. Exhausted.
Larek puts the box down somewhere and takes my bags from me, following me up the stairs to my room. I think he was making sure I wasn’t going to faint and hit my head somewhere. Exhausted.
“Miss Elizabeth,” I can hear him behind me, but I just keep walking. If I can keep my legs moving, I think I can make it to my bed before I collapse. “Would you like a drink? Water, perhaps? Or something to eat?”
I think I’m more hungry than thirsty. But I know I’m more tired than anything else. My body wins the battle and sleep is of the utmost importance now. I manage to shake my head before I fall onto the bed.
Close my eyes but Larek is still in the room, taking my backpack and duffel bag and putting them somewhere. On the desk, I think.
He talks in a low voice, “Maxwell requested that you call him the instant you arrive home,” he hesitates because he knows I’m already almost asleep, “would you like me to dial the number?”
I think I manage to mumble something like, “later, Larek. Sleep.”
And his voice sounds far off as he turns off the bedroom light, “as you wish, Miss Elizabeth.”
--------------
When I woke up late the next morning, it suddenly came to me that I hadn’t seen or talk to Max since Thursday. And today was Sunday.
Why I note that, I’m not quite sure. But I did.
Maybe, it’s because I’m… kind of… sort of… maybe… just a little bit… missing him like crazy. No biggie. Just a lot, that’s all.
By the time I brushed my teeth, changed, and got downstairs, my breakfast had already gotten cold. Or so Larek informs me.
“Sorry, Larek,” comes my lame excuse for an apology for sleeping in so late. “I was just really tired.”
Larek nods, pouring me a cup of juice and placing it on the counter in front of me. I down it and he gives me a refill.
“So… where’s Max?” I try for nonchalant, but know that I missed horribly when Larek gives me this knowing look.
I watch while he adds chopped up jalapenos and mustard to the pancake mix and then I look away. I don’t question the ingredients to anything he makes anymore. I just eat it. And… it’s good, really good.
“Maxwell didn’t come home last night.”
Huh? Max didn’t come home last night. “Again?”
Larek just nods.
“So… what’s he doing?” And my question earns me another knowing look from Larek, the super butler.
“Since you’ve thoroughly rested,” he walks over to me with a bottle of syrup and a plate of what I think are pancakes, but don’t quite smell like the ones that dad used to make. “Why don’t you give him a call now?”
I nod my head, picking up my fork. “I will.” Just… not right now.
Larek sits down next to me with a newspaper and a cup of coffee.
I drench my plate in syrup and take one bite. Pancakes have never tasted so good.
Look over at Larek and he flips the page of his newspaper. “These are really good, Larek. Thank you.
“Oh,” he doesn’t even look at me. “You are very welcome.”
I think he’s used to getting compliments for his food.
I take another bite. And I wonder, “has Alex called or come over?” I mean, he was kind of very interested in what mysteries that box we got from Santa Fe held. I figured he’d be here already, prying the thing open.
“No.” And Larek sips his black coffee. I watch and cringe as he adds Tabasco sauce to it and swirls it around with his spoon.
“So Larek,” I barely finish chewing before I ask the question, “with the special power thing? Is the ability to slow time or like… make people see something that isn’t actually happening, among them?” Because that’s what Alex said, right? He saw me get shot, but I didn’t.
Larek thinks for a second before answering. “Sure.”
“Oh.” Okay. “And you said that only… Antarians have these special powers, right?”
“That is correct.” He flips another page of his newspaper.
“Oh.” Okay. “So that guy… the evil one that wants to kill everyone…” I wait for him to help fill in the blank.
“Khivar,” he says it so nonchalantly.
“Yeah. Him. Khivar,” take a breath. “He’s from Zz-”
“Xenith,” Larek pronounces it slowly for me again.
“Right. Xenith.” Nod my head. “So they don’t have… powers like that, right?” To slow down time or make people see stuff that isn’t really happening?
Larek answers me with a nod and a “thank god.”
Huh. Yeah. That’s good.
I’m not that ignorant. I mean, ignorance is bliss and all. And I firmly believe in that saying. But things still figure in my head. And of all the aliens out there, there’s only one evil alien king that wants to impregnate me with his evil alien baby… that I know of. And that isn’t Max.
But the man in the suit in the diner with the wavy goldish brown hair and cold eyes couldn’t be Khivar, could it? Since only Antarians have special abilities and Khivar isn’t Antarian, it couldn’t be him. Right?
And Max. Where the hell is he and what the hell is he doing?
If this evil guy is hell-bent on having me so that the alien people will accept his taking over, why isn’t any one worried about him just abducting me? Why am I not worried? I mean, I come and go as I please. Max and Alex like to keep tabs on me, but I still leave the house when I want. And Max’s home is kind of the most obvious place to find me, if anyone really wanted to find me, that is.
Or is this whole thing just some made up hidden camera reality show with really good special effects?
And Max is having meeting after meeting after meeting with these Council people and I don’t really know who they are, or what they’re discussing, or even what the hell is going on at all.
Ignorance is bliss, right?
Sigh. Ignorance is bliss alright.
Larek finishes with his paper and coffee and stands up, taking my forgotten pancakes away. “Don’t worry, poppet,” he says, putting the plate in the sink. “Everything will work out in the end.”
I think he can tell that my mind is troubled. That I am troubled. That everything is troubled.
The doorbell rings and Larek goes to answer it while I sit there with my head in my hands, my juice cup empty.
He comes back into the kitchen a moment later. “Miss Elizabeth, a Mr. Michael Guerin is here to see you.”
My head picks up. Michael, the hippie haired boy? What’s he doing here?
Slide off the stool, because, you know, my feet don’t really touch the ground. Shortness and all. Head to the front door to find Michael leaning against the frame, looking bored.
When I make it to the door, I stand there and wait. And after an eternity later of staring at each other, he finally speaks. “I fixed your car. It works.” He tosses me the keys and I nearly miss them. Let’s just say, catch was never my forte.
“Thank you, Michael.” I try to offer him a smile. It’s great that I have a car, but… you know, an expired license and the inability to drive kind of hinders the excitement. So, yeah. Great.
He nods and just stands there, staring. It’s nerve-wrecking.
“O-kay… so…” um… this is awkward.
He finally straightens up. “Come with me.”
And I go… “what?”
“Let’s go,” and he’s already turning like he wants to leave. “A group of us want to talk to you.”
“What do you mean?” the words come out slowly.
I’m not usually scared of Michael. I mean, the hippie hair and the uninterested attitude kind of leave him lacking. But when boys you don’t really know tell you to follow them to an unknown mystery location where a group of his friends are waiting to talk to you… kind of makes a girl feel just a little bit nervous.
He takes this deep breath and I think I see him rolling his eyes before he lets it out. “Please?”
I follow then, closing the door behind me, not just because I’m curious, but also because… come on. It’s Michael. And he said please.
--------------
Five minutes later I’m driven to the Guerin’s home. How do I know? Because I’ve been there before.
Follow Michael inside and into the living room where a sudden feeling of bombardment comes over me when all eyes in the room turn my way and I’m immediately the center of attention in a room filled with Tess and Kyle on the couch, Brad standing next to the fireplace, and Michael right behind me.
Wigging out doesn’t exactly describe what I’m feeling right now. “Um…what’s going on?”
“Well,” Tess starts up, with a leader-like aura about her. “We have some questions.”
And I look at each person in the room. “We?” She makes it sound like some kind of cult gathering. Freaky.
“Yeah,” this time Michael speaks up, now standing a few feet away to the right of me. “We,” he motions to each person standing in the room, “the future Council for the earth colony.”
“Or at least, the ones that are known,” Kyle adds in from his seat next to Tess on the couch. A part of me was expecting for him to call me Liz Parker again. The rest of me is very happy that he didn’t.
Future council. Earth colony. Those are the words that took me a while to process.
“Oh...” well then. If he thinks that clears up a lot of things, he’s wrong. Okay. So… “you had questions?”
“We have a lot of questions,” Brad says, pulling a folding chair out and placing it in the middle of the room. He’s the only one smiling at me. Everyone else is just staring. “Take a seat, Liz. This is going to take a while.”
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Chapter Thirty Three:
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You know how they say your life flashes before your eyes when you are about to die?
That is not true. Well, at least it wasn’t in this case. My last near death experience just opened up some pushed away memories. But this time, nothing. I couldn’t even breathe. All I could do was wait for the pain that I knew was coming…
It never came.
I look around the diner again and Alex is frantic and yelling and screaming into the phone at Max. He’s trying to say something but all he can get out is, “oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.”
The table and booth of tourists are frantic and trying to duck away, covering their mouths and faces with their hands.
The waitress behind the counter is frozen still, her body trembling and a look of horror on her face.
But the two men fighting are gone. No gun. No trace of them. Just vanished. Were they even there? Or was I just imagining it?
And I’m left with everyone either gawking and staring at me, horrified, or covering their eyes in fear.
The man in the suit stands from his seat at the counter, facing me with a knowing smile on his lips.
Recognition pops in my head from the wavy goldish brown hair and cold eyes, but not knowing where I remember him from.
He walks over slowly and it’s as though everyone else is frozen in time, staring in my direction as though I’d been shot.
…But I hadn’t. I’m fine.
The man in the suit comes to standing before me. He looks down at me from where I’m seated in the booth, staring at him. His voice is clean but rough with a hint of an accent. “Come with me, Elizabeth.”
And I can just stare at him. Is this a dream? “What’s going on?”
He ignores my question. “Come with me, love.”
And I can just shake my head and stare at Alex before my eyes go to the man standing in front of me again with his stylish suit and cold eyes.
He’s waiting for my answer, as though I needed to give it to him. “No.”
Confusion is written on my face while his is adorned with a knowing smile and cold eyes. His hand reaches out and strokes my cheek, softly.
I can’t stop him. And I can only stare back at the man, mesmerized by his clean but rough voice. “You say that now. Just wait, love. You’ll change your mind soon enough.”
And with that, he walks out through the front door. The bell dinging above it seems to wake everyone from their stupor and people start moving in real time again, all staring my way once more.
“Oh my god!” Alex is screaming again and all eyes are on me.
The two men fighting pop back up again where they should have been, but weren’t a second ago.
Both of them run out the door.
My eyes are wide and I look to Alex. “We have to go.”
“What?” He’s still frantic and shocked and staring at me.
“We have to go.” I think the distress in my voice and face left no room for questions. He grabs my arm and rushes me out, hopping into the car and screeches away.
Once we covered at least half a mile’s distance and our breathing was normal again, Alex spoke up. “What the hell happened back there?”
I could just shake my head, my voice coming out in a low whisper, “I don’t know.”
--------------
I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep for even a wink the entire return trip back. Alex’s phone goes off for like maybe the tenth time in his pocket. I didn’t hear it at first because my mind was just out of it. “Are you going to get that?”
Something tells me that Alex’s brain was running away from him too. “What? Huh?”
“Your phone.” I point towards his vibrating pant pocket.
“Oh, yeah.” He’s blinking a lot. I think he’s trying to blink himself back into conscious reality. He shifts down in his seat and pulls the phone out, pushing a button and holding it to his ear. “Yeah?”
And I can hear Max’s voice booming over so loudly that Alex has to hold the phone away from his ear in order to hear him.
And Max screams, “what the hell is going on?!”
And I watch Alex as he shakes his head, even though Max can’t see him. “I don’t know, man.”
And Max asks, “Is Liz okay?”
Alex looks over at me, looking me up and down, confusion and worry in his eyes, his voice shaky, “she… yeah, she looks fine.”
And Max’s voice gets a little softer, just a little, “let me talk to her.”
Alex looks at me and I think the look that I give him makes him put the phone right back to his ear. “She’s pretty shook up, man. I’ll tell her call you again once she’s calmed down.”
I don’t hear the rest of their conversation.
Alex is right. I’m still feeling strange from the whole thing. Although the man in the suit barely touched me, there was just a sense of violation in it all.
Alex hangs up the phone and the questions start. “So… Liz… what did happen back there?”
“What do you mean?” I play dumb. I know what he means. I just… feel as though I shouldn’t talk about it. Like, whoever that man was, he was… someone big… I don’t know. As though I should know who he is, only he doesn’t want me to know yet. And once he’s ready, I’ll find out.
It’s so confusing.
“Back in the diner,” there’s agitation in his voice now. “I mean, I was talking to Max. And those guys with the gun. And BAM! And I saw it hit you Liz. I saw the bullet hit you. I saw blood coming out. Blood. Red icky looking blood.”
I watch his hands on the steering wheel, his knuckles white from holding too hard.
“And then,” he’s caught up in the memory of it, gabbering on and on. “And then… and then… nothing. And then you’re sitting there like nothing happened. No blood, no bullet, nothing. I just…” he lets out a big overdramatic sigh. “I know what I saw, Liz. But what did you see happen?”
I turn to stare out the passenger side window. “I’ll tell you later, Alex.”
He doesn’t push it. I think he’s still trying to process everything out himself as well.
We spend the rest of the trip home in silence.
--------------
It was dark by the time we got back into town. Both of us were tired and hungry. Well, at least I knew that I was tired and hungry.
Alex drives down Antarian Avenue to drop me off at Max’s house. The light is on and the garage door is open to the house across the street, the house that used to be my house. Yeah… whatever…
Michael kind of waves at us, looking up from under the hood of a car. Apparently, what was my mother’s car, now my car. Do I even remember how to drive? Is my license still active?
Alex pulls into the Max’s driveway and parks his car. I open the car door and pull my backpack and duffle bag out with me. Alex carries the big metal safety deposit box to the front door.
Larek opens the door without us having to knock or ring the doorbell. He does this with his super-duper butler skills. He takes the box from Alex.
I look at Alex and he looks at me and we just grunt our goodbyes. We’re both exhausted. I mean, Alex did just spend ten hours driving there and back. And I sat right there next to him the whole time. Exhausted.
Larek puts the box down somewhere and takes my bags from me, following me up the stairs to my room. I think he was making sure I wasn’t going to faint and hit my head somewhere. Exhausted.
“Miss Elizabeth,” I can hear him behind me, but I just keep walking. If I can keep my legs moving, I think I can make it to my bed before I collapse. “Would you like a drink? Water, perhaps? Or something to eat?”
I think I’m more hungry than thirsty. But I know I’m more tired than anything else. My body wins the battle and sleep is of the utmost importance now. I manage to shake my head before I fall onto the bed.
Close my eyes but Larek is still in the room, taking my backpack and duffel bag and putting them somewhere. On the desk, I think.
He talks in a low voice, “Maxwell requested that you call him the instant you arrive home,” he hesitates because he knows I’m already almost asleep, “would you like me to dial the number?”
I think I manage to mumble something like, “later, Larek. Sleep.”
And his voice sounds far off as he turns off the bedroom light, “as you wish, Miss Elizabeth.”
--------------
When I woke up late the next morning, it suddenly came to me that I hadn’t seen or talk to Max since Thursday. And today was Sunday.
Why I note that, I’m not quite sure. But I did.
Maybe, it’s because I’m… kind of… sort of… maybe… just a little bit… missing him like crazy. No biggie. Just a lot, that’s all.
By the time I brushed my teeth, changed, and got downstairs, my breakfast had already gotten cold. Or so Larek informs me.
“Sorry, Larek,” comes my lame excuse for an apology for sleeping in so late. “I was just really tired.”
Larek nods, pouring me a cup of juice and placing it on the counter in front of me. I down it and he gives me a refill.
“So… where’s Max?” I try for nonchalant, but know that I missed horribly when Larek gives me this knowing look.
I watch while he adds chopped up jalapenos and mustard to the pancake mix and then I look away. I don’t question the ingredients to anything he makes anymore. I just eat it. And… it’s good, really good.
“Maxwell didn’t come home last night.”
Huh? Max didn’t come home last night. “Again?”
Larek just nods.
“So… what’s he doing?” And my question earns me another knowing look from Larek, the super butler.
“Since you’ve thoroughly rested,” he walks over to me with a bottle of syrup and a plate of what I think are pancakes, but don’t quite smell like the ones that dad used to make. “Why don’t you give him a call now?”
I nod my head, picking up my fork. “I will.” Just… not right now.
Larek sits down next to me with a newspaper and a cup of coffee.
I drench my plate in syrup and take one bite. Pancakes have never tasted so good.
Look over at Larek and he flips the page of his newspaper. “These are really good, Larek. Thank you.
“Oh,” he doesn’t even look at me. “You are very welcome.”
I think he’s used to getting compliments for his food.
I take another bite. And I wonder, “has Alex called or come over?” I mean, he was kind of very interested in what mysteries that box we got from Santa Fe held. I figured he’d be here already, prying the thing open.
“No.” And Larek sips his black coffee. I watch and cringe as he adds Tabasco sauce to it and swirls it around with his spoon.
“So Larek,” I barely finish chewing before I ask the question, “with the special power thing? Is the ability to slow time or like… make people see something that isn’t actually happening, among them?” Because that’s what Alex said, right? He saw me get shot, but I didn’t.
Larek thinks for a second before answering. “Sure.”
“Oh.” Okay. “And you said that only… Antarians have these special powers, right?”
“That is correct.” He flips another page of his newspaper.
“Oh.” Okay. “So that guy… the evil one that wants to kill everyone…” I wait for him to help fill in the blank.
“Khivar,” he says it so nonchalantly.
“Yeah. Him. Khivar,” take a breath. “He’s from Zz-”
“Xenith,” Larek pronounces it slowly for me again.
“Right. Xenith.” Nod my head. “So they don’t have… powers like that, right?” To slow down time or make people see stuff that isn’t really happening?
Larek answers me with a nod and a “thank god.”
Huh. Yeah. That’s good.
I’m not that ignorant. I mean, ignorance is bliss and all. And I firmly believe in that saying. But things still figure in my head. And of all the aliens out there, there’s only one evil alien king that wants to impregnate me with his evil alien baby… that I know of. And that isn’t Max.
But the man in the suit in the diner with the wavy goldish brown hair and cold eyes couldn’t be Khivar, could it? Since only Antarians have special abilities and Khivar isn’t Antarian, it couldn’t be him. Right?
And Max. Where the hell is he and what the hell is he doing?
If this evil guy is hell-bent on having me so that the alien people will accept his taking over, why isn’t any one worried about him just abducting me? Why am I not worried? I mean, I come and go as I please. Max and Alex like to keep tabs on me, but I still leave the house when I want. And Max’s home is kind of the most obvious place to find me, if anyone really wanted to find me, that is.
Or is this whole thing just some made up hidden camera reality show with really good special effects?
And Max is having meeting after meeting after meeting with these Council people and I don’t really know who they are, or what they’re discussing, or even what the hell is going on at all.
Ignorance is bliss, right?
Sigh. Ignorance is bliss alright.
Larek finishes with his paper and coffee and stands up, taking my forgotten pancakes away. “Don’t worry, poppet,” he says, putting the plate in the sink. “Everything will work out in the end.”
I think he can tell that my mind is troubled. That I am troubled. That everything is troubled.
The doorbell rings and Larek goes to answer it while I sit there with my head in my hands, my juice cup empty.
He comes back into the kitchen a moment later. “Miss Elizabeth, a Mr. Michael Guerin is here to see you.”
My head picks up. Michael, the hippie haired boy? What’s he doing here?
Slide off the stool, because, you know, my feet don’t really touch the ground. Shortness and all. Head to the front door to find Michael leaning against the frame, looking bored.
When I make it to the door, I stand there and wait. And after an eternity later of staring at each other, he finally speaks. “I fixed your car. It works.” He tosses me the keys and I nearly miss them. Let’s just say, catch was never my forte.
“Thank you, Michael.” I try to offer him a smile. It’s great that I have a car, but… you know, an expired license and the inability to drive kind of hinders the excitement. So, yeah. Great.
He nods and just stands there, staring. It’s nerve-wrecking.
“O-kay… so…” um… this is awkward.
He finally straightens up. “Come with me.”
And I go… “what?”
“Let’s go,” and he’s already turning like he wants to leave. “A group of us want to talk to you.”
“What do you mean?” the words come out slowly.
I’m not usually scared of Michael. I mean, the hippie hair and the uninterested attitude kind of leave him lacking. But when boys you don’t really know tell you to follow them to an unknown mystery location where a group of his friends are waiting to talk to you… kind of makes a girl feel just a little bit nervous.
He takes this deep breath and I think I see him rolling his eyes before he lets it out. “Please?”
I follow then, closing the door behind me, not just because I’m curious, but also because… come on. It’s Michael. And he said please.
--------------
Five minutes later I’m driven to the Guerin’s home. How do I know? Because I’ve been there before.
Follow Michael inside and into the living room where a sudden feeling of bombardment comes over me when all eyes in the room turn my way and I’m immediately the center of attention in a room filled with Tess and Kyle on the couch, Brad standing next to the fireplace, and Michael right behind me.
Wigging out doesn’t exactly describe what I’m feeling right now. “Um…what’s going on?”
“Well,” Tess starts up, with a leader-like aura about her. “We have some questions.”
And I look at each person in the room. “We?” She makes it sound like some kind of cult gathering. Freaky.
“Yeah,” this time Michael speaks up, now standing a few feet away to the right of me. “We,” he motions to each person standing in the room, “the future Council for the earth colony.”
“Or at least, the ones that are known,” Kyle adds in from his seat next to Tess on the couch. A part of me was expecting for him to call me Liz Parker again. The rest of me is very happy that he didn’t.
Future council. Earth colony. Those are the words that took me a while to process.
“Oh...” well then. If he thinks that clears up a lot of things, he’s wrong. Okay. So… “you had questions?”
“We have a lot of questions,” Brad says, pulling a folding chair out and placing it in the middle of the room. He’s the only one smiling at me. Everyone else is just staring. “Take a seat, Liz. This is going to take a while.”
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Last edited by Evelynn on Sun Sep 17, 2006 12:38 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Chapter Thirty Four:
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Major headache.
Everyone just keeps staring, aside from Kyle, who’s seen me do this before.
Brad goes, “can you-”
Michael goes, “I just-”
Tess goes, “can you do it again?”
I groan from where I’m sitting, in the center of the room, the center of attention, where they’re asking me to float a pencil for about the twentieth time. Not that I can make it float yet, but I sure can make it move.
“Okay.” Tess sits back from her seat on the couch in front of me. “I can accept that. You can levitate objects. But you still can’t be the future queen.”
I stare at her. “I’m not saying that I am.”
Michael speaks up. “The future queen is supposed to be the daughter of Annabelle Ross and Edward Harding. And that’s not you,” he points out the obvious.
Everyone stares again. I shake my head at all of them. “I never said that I was.”
“Sure,” Tess starts up, standing up and pacing the room. “You have powers, your mother was Antarian. But… that doesn’t make you the queen.”
And again, I repeat, “I never said that I was.”
“Explain your connection to Max,” Brad throws out.
I look at him, shaking my head. “Connection?” I met him when I first moved here. He likes me, I think. And I think we’re dating.
“It’s like…” he thinks about it for a second before he keeps going, “an almost tangible physical and emotional link. Is there one? Like there’s this feeling that makes you just… want to be with him, I guess?”
Pulls and tugs? Is that what they are? My connection to Max?
“Why is this so hard to believe, Tess?” Kyle speaks up from where he’s sitting casually on the couch, like this isn’t the interrogation that it is. Like they just invited me over for tea and crackers.
She stops her pacing again and glares at him. The intimidation factor of Tess, I don’t know if I ever noted it before, but it’s very, very high. “Because the genetics just don’t add up.”
Kyle just smiles at her, then turns to Michael. “Max was obsessed with her from the beginning, right Michael?”
“Yeah,” Michael nods, staring at me. “Overly obsessed.”
Shake my head. “How would you know?”
“Michael is his second in command,” Brad answers.
But… “I thought Alex was.”
“No, Alex is his advisor.” Tess finally sits down again. “In the order of command, in cases of diplomatic warfare, Michael is Max’s second in command as chosen here on earth.”
“My point is,” Kyle sits up now, “Max felt it from the beginning. That proves that she is who she says she is.”
Shake my head again. And I’ve decided that sounding like a broken record player isn’t fun, “I never said-”
“There has to be some way to test her,” Tess is thinking to herself, staring up at the ceiling. Her eyes suddenly come back down and she looks straight at me. It’s nerve-wrecking to say the least. “Show us what other powers you have.”
Shake my head again. “Other powers?”
Tess stands up, reminding me again that this isn’t just tea and crackers. Especially since Tess is standing, staring down at me. Michael is standing, staring down at me. Kyle is standing, staring down at me. Brad is standing, staring down at me. And little Lizzie, is sitting nicely in a metal folding chair, placed in the center of the room, the center of attention. And I repeat, “other powers?”
“If you are the queen then the amount of power you hold would be extraordinary,” Tess answers.
“Potentially extraordinary,” Kyle corrects her. “That’s all she’s ever been taught. Right, Liz Parker?”
Groan with the name calling, but I nod my head. Floating pencil is the only trick I know. And I’m not even good at it.
“And who taught it to you?” Tess asks.
I point at Kyle and he has this wary smile on his face while Tess eyes him.
“You’ve never tried anything else?” Brad asks, stepping closer. And the last thing I need is for them to start closing in on me.
Just shake my head.
“Nothing at all,” Tess asks and stares at me like she knows I’m lying.
I stare right back. “Why? What can you do?”
She closes her eyes and a second later, the guys disappear. She disappears. The entire room disappears. Everything is black except for one brown door that looks like it’s standing up all by itself. And I think I’m freaking out. I think I’m suffocating. I think I’m dizzy.
The brown door creaks open slowly. There’s a squeaking noise as he rolls in toward me, stopping a few yards away. Michael, in a clown suit, riding a unicycle.
And then the entire things drops and it’s back to how it should have been. The Guerin house. Interrogation. Chair. Brad. Kyle. Michael. Tess.
Stare at Tess while two things pop into my head. One, Tess has a wicked sense of humor. Two, what she just did had the same feel as what happened in the diner in Santa Fe.
“That’s what I can do,” she smiles at me, her arms folded across her chest. I get the feeling that no one else saw that but me. Because I don’t know if Michael would be amused right now.
“What was that?” I ask because if Tess can do that, then that man in the diner must have the same power as well, to make people see things that aren’t really happening. Like how Alex said he saw me get shot. But… no bullet, no blood.
“That was a mind warp,” she has a serious look on her face. It wigs me out. “Now you try it.”
Wait… what? “How the hell do I do that?”
“Just…” she looks frustrated, “you just do it.”
“Tess, give her a break,” Alex walks straight through the front door and I have to curve my happiness in seeing him, just in case Tess is just messing with me again with her mind warp stuff. But possibly imaginary Alex keeps talking, “her powers are infantile, at best. Unlike the rest of us, she hasn’t been properly trained.”
He stands right beside me and with big brother Alex here, the interrogation room doesn’t seem so scary anymore.
She stares at Alex. “I just, I can’t accept that she is the queen unless she can prove it to us somehow.” And then she looks at me, “and she hasn’t done that yet.”
Shake my head once again, “I never said that I was. Never.”
“I’m sorry, I just-” Tess sighs and sits down, her head going into her hands, her intimidation factor decreasing exponentially, “so much is in the air, Liz. So much that you don’t even know. I mean, everyone’s lives are on the line here.”
“Tess, that isn’t fair,” Alex speaks over her, over me. “She doesn’t know. It’s not her fault.” He stares down everyone in the room. And then looks down at me with a smile. “You know what? I get the feeling that you’ve been at this for hours and you’re probably exhausted, right Liz?” he doesn’t wait for the answer. “So I’m going to take you home.”
No one says anything. I stand up and follow Alex out of the house and into his car.
“I can’t believe they would try to pull that,” Alex is complaining, putting the keys into the ignition.
I pull my seatbelt on. “Why?” I mean, it was grueling, and, given the choice, I would opt out of this little question and answer thing I spent my morning going through. But still, given the circumstances, I think, I can kind of see why “they were curious.”
“They have no right,” Alex pulls out of the driveway. “They may already know that they will become members of the Council, but seeing as how the current members are still alive and well, those kids can’t be exercising the powers that they don’t have yet.”
Alex calls them ‘those kids’, even though they’re the same age as him. But it kind of, almost makes sense at times like these. Because, some of the time, and I do only mean some of the time, Alex is a lot older than his age.
I wonder what he’s had to have gone through, as Max’s advisor, to make him this way.
Alex parks his car and walks into Max’s house with me, because, you know, the metal box and all its mysteries has peaked Alex’s curiosity.
Larek meets us at the door. “Miss Elizabeth. Mr. Whitman. Shall I prepare lunch?”
“I’m not hungry, Larek,” I say, walking past him to the stairs.
“No, thanks, Larek.” I can hear Alex say behind me.
He follows me to my designated room where he proceeds to pull some tools out of his pocket, sit down on the ground, and work at opening Pandora’s box.
I sit on my bed and just watch him try to work his wonders.
It’s strange. With all the things up in the air. With so many questions swarming my mind that I can’t even begin to recount them or think straight, it still feels as though my life is at some sort of stand still. It feels like nothing is happening.
And if you look at all that’s happened in the past few months, and all the things that are still happening, you’d think I’d be happy that I feel… settled.
But it’s just… I don’t know. It’s strange.
Hear Alex curse a few times before I ask the question, “how’s it going?”
“It’s not going,” he says, still staring at the box. “I can’t get it to open. I don’t know. There’s something weird with the box.”
I smile. He looks flustered. I think he’s flustered.
I’m not sure if I should ask, but, “can’t you like… blast it open?”
He looks at me, quirking his lips. “No. That’s not something I can do.”
“Oh.” Sigh. It’s not something he can do. But he didn’t say it can’t be done.
Sigh. I feel like I’m on a sugar low. Sigh.
“Okay.” Alex puts the box aside for the first time since he’s got here. “I bite. What’s up?”
I sit up straight and go “huh?”
“Come on,” he stands up and sits on the bed with me. “The sighing and the distanced look in your eyes. I go through a gazillion of these talks with Max. What’s up?”
Shake my head. “No idea what you’re talking about, Alex.”
He smiles one of his Alex smiles. “I know everything’s complicated right now. Things don’t really make sense and all that everyone tells you is just confusing the hell out of you.”
“Yeah.” Nod my head. “But that’s the thing. It’s okay.” Kind of. Sort of. Maybe. “I mean, in a way, I accept it.”
“You accept it?” he asks. He doesn’t believe me.
I try to explain. “I mean, my mom passed away. But I’ve dealt with it… kind of.” Well, as much as I’m willing to deal with it anyway. “And my dad’s in jail, but we’re trying to get him out because he didn’t murder my mom.”
Again with the unbelieving look, but I keep talking, “I have to find the person that did murder her. My mom ended up being an alien” with a higher purpose, “which consequently made me an alien” with a higher purpose. “There’s a weird alien king who wants to impregnate me with his alien child because he,” and a lot of other people, “thinks that I’m this special girl that’s supposed to be a queen to worlds of planets. So he’s willing to go through a whole planet to get to me, but won’t come to me himself.” I finish my monologue.
And I’m surprised that I still have Alex’s attention. “How do you know that?”
I smile at him because I’m smarter than he thinks. Although I don’t always listen, the pieces do go clickety click in my head. “If he could just kidnap me, you and Max would have me hidden and locked away in some basement somewhere. But you don’t. I go as I please.”
Alex smiles and he doesn’t dispute it because we both know that it’s true.
“You know they say Khivar’s good looking,” he says it like Maria would, flipping his hair a little.
Smile and shake my head at him. “You’ve never met him?”
“No,” he says, but he’s thinking, “at least, I don’t think I have. But he’s supposed to be very handsome and charming.”
“Charming?” A man that wants to nuke an entire planet? Charming is the last word I’d use.
Alex laughs, shaking his head. “Well, I don’t know if charming was the right word, but persuasive.”
I nod. I think he would have to be.
“Persuasive enough to convince Pam to leave Max for him.” Alex says. Alex isn’t smiling anymore.
I don’t smile either. Pam and I weren’t the best of friends when she was here. But what she’s doing now kind of isn’t something that you wish on any girl.
If only Max would have loved her back. But then, “Michael said that Max was more than obsessed with me since we first met. Maybe Pam could see that too. And what would you do in a situation like that, if you were a girl?”
He shrugs.
I answer for him, my understanding of Pam’s decision. Pam’s only objective was to be with Max. But Max says that he didn’t feel the same. So “if the person you want to be with doesn’t want you, you find someone who does.”
“The rebound guy?” he’s looking at me dead on. As though this is a tough subject that he’s really contemplating over this. Oh, the inner workings of the female mind.
“Sort of.” I guess.
“If you can’t be with the one you love, be with the one you’re with?” He seems sad. Maybe Max wasn’t the only one who loved Pam.
“Kind of.” I guess. “Maybe. And, I mean, Max and I… there is something there… a connection,” like they said. “I just… since the first moment I met him, I felt a pull to him… this...” how do you describe it? A “need to be with him.”
“How do you know?” He doesn’t believe me.
I shrug. “I feel it.” That’s all I can say.
He stares at me. “Maybe you are the girl.”
And I know everything is just crazy and off the wall, but it kind of makes sense.
I just sigh. “I’m not saying that I am. I’m just saying-”
His watch beeps. He stands from the bed. “I’ve got the dinner shift.”
Nod my head. Oh, “okay.”
He stares at the metal box. He kicks it.
And I ask him the question that I know he’s thinking. “So what do you think is inside it?”
“I don’t know.” I think he’s sending death glares to the evil box of mysteries. “But it’s pissing me off.” He sighs and looks my way. “Do you want to come with me?”
I go… “what?”
“The dinner shift.” He points at his watch. “We’re short a waitress.”
I nod. I know, because the Sunday dinner shift is usually mine with Maria. Stand up. “Okay.”
--------------
He parks his car in the back because the front parking lot is full. Full diner. Maria must be going crazy.
Walk in to the craziness that is the dinner rush with a sense of comfort. Maria was busting around behind the counter, too busy to even look up when Alex and I walk in. But Mr. Whitman waves and smiles from behind the grill.
Alex goes on into the back, but I stop at the pick-up window to say hi to Mr. Whitman.
“Hello, Liz,” he says with his bright and peachy attitude. “Long time no see.”
Nod and smile back.
“Here to work?” he asks, putting another plate up for Maria to take, dinging the bell, but Maria’s busy bringing drinks to another table.
Nod my head again. “Yup.”
“Good.” He looks relieved. “Why don’t you go suit up and you can work the counter today. Maria will take the tables.”
Nod my head and start for the back. It feels good to be here, doing this again.
--------------
Music blares from the stereo, the chairs are all put up, and Maria is busy singing along while she mops the floor. And I’m behind the counter, refilling the sugar and ketchup bottles. Maria and Mr. Whitman didn’t bombard me with questions like I thought they might.
Makes me think that maybe they don’t know what’s going on.
“So…” Maria puts the mop up and joins me behind the counter to help refill sugar and ketchup. “I haven’t seen you in school at all.”
I nod. “Yeah, I’ve been-”
“Adjusting?” she says.
And I give her a look that says, what?
“I know, Liz,” she says it like it explains it all. “Alex told me. Well, I had to pretty much threaten him and finally drag it out of him. Mr. Whitman knows too,” she nods toward the chef’s window where Alex and Mr. Whitman are cleaning up the cook’s area. “They aren’t just announcing the news though, because they don’t want everyone to just start pointing fingers and talking nonsense.”
“I see.” I say it like I get it, but I don’t understand what the hell she’s talking about.
I was finishing up screwing on the last of the tops to the sugars and closing up the massive industrial sized sugar bag to put it back in the back storage area when there was a knock on the front door.
Through the glass door and past the turquoise green Crashdown logo decal on the door, I can see the blonde curls of Tess, standing tall at five foot nothing.
Groan while I walk over to unlock the door. It’s not that I dislike her or anything. I mean, Tess and I never had anything bad going on between us. It’s just after this morning’s episode, there’s only so much Tess I can take.
I crack the door open. Put on a pretty smile. “What can I do for you, Tess?”
“Are you done working?” she glances inside, and then looks back at me. “I need to talk things over with you.”
I didn’t mean to roll my eyes. “But-”
“It’s very, very important,” she says in her serious Tess tone.
Sigh. “Wait here, let me go get changed.”
She nods.
I head off to the back to dress out and grab my bag.
Sigh. What could she want now?
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Chapter Thirty Four:
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Major headache.
Everyone just keeps staring, aside from Kyle, who’s seen me do this before.
Brad goes, “can you-”
Michael goes, “I just-”
Tess goes, “can you do it again?”
I groan from where I’m sitting, in the center of the room, the center of attention, where they’re asking me to float a pencil for about the twentieth time. Not that I can make it float yet, but I sure can make it move.
“Okay.” Tess sits back from her seat on the couch in front of me. “I can accept that. You can levitate objects. But you still can’t be the future queen.”
I stare at her. “I’m not saying that I am.”
Michael speaks up. “The future queen is supposed to be the daughter of Annabelle Ross and Edward Harding. And that’s not you,” he points out the obvious.
Everyone stares again. I shake my head at all of them. “I never said that I was.”
“Sure,” Tess starts up, standing up and pacing the room. “You have powers, your mother was Antarian. But… that doesn’t make you the queen.”
And again, I repeat, “I never said that I was.”
“Explain your connection to Max,” Brad throws out.
I look at him, shaking my head. “Connection?” I met him when I first moved here. He likes me, I think. And I think we’re dating.
“It’s like…” he thinks about it for a second before he keeps going, “an almost tangible physical and emotional link. Is there one? Like there’s this feeling that makes you just… want to be with him, I guess?”
Pulls and tugs? Is that what they are? My connection to Max?
“Why is this so hard to believe, Tess?” Kyle speaks up from where he’s sitting casually on the couch, like this isn’t the interrogation that it is. Like they just invited me over for tea and crackers.
She stops her pacing again and glares at him. The intimidation factor of Tess, I don’t know if I ever noted it before, but it’s very, very high. “Because the genetics just don’t add up.”
Kyle just smiles at her, then turns to Michael. “Max was obsessed with her from the beginning, right Michael?”
“Yeah,” Michael nods, staring at me. “Overly obsessed.”
Shake my head. “How would you know?”
“Michael is his second in command,” Brad answers.
But… “I thought Alex was.”
“No, Alex is his advisor.” Tess finally sits down again. “In the order of command, in cases of diplomatic warfare, Michael is Max’s second in command as chosen here on earth.”
“My point is,” Kyle sits up now, “Max felt it from the beginning. That proves that she is who she says she is.”
Shake my head again. And I’ve decided that sounding like a broken record player isn’t fun, “I never said-”
“There has to be some way to test her,” Tess is thinking to herself, staring up at the ceiling. Her eyes suddenly come back down and she looks straight at me. It’s nerve-wrecking to say the least. “Show us what other powers you have.”
Shake my head again. “Other powers?”
Tess stands up, reminding me again that this isn’t just tea and crackers. Especially since Tess is standing, staring down at me. Michael is standing, staring down at me. Kyle is standing, staring down at me. Brad is standing, staring down at me. And little Lizzie, is sitting nicely in a metal folding chair, placed in the center of the room, the center of attention. And I repeat, “other powers?”
“If you are the queen then the amount of power you hold would be extraordinary,” Tess answers.
“Potentially extraordinary,” Kyle corrects her. “That’s all she’s ever been taught. Right, Liz Parker?”
Groan with the name calling, but I nod my head. Floating pencil is the only trick I know. And I’m not even good at it.
“And who taught it to you?” Tess asks.
I point at Kyle and he has this wary smile on his face while Tess eyes him.
“You’ve never tried anything else?” Brad asks, stepping closer. And the last thing I need is for them to start closing in on me.
Just shake my head.
“Nothing at all,” Tess asks and stares at me like she knows I’m lying.
I stare right back. “Why? What can you do?”
She closes her eyes and a second later, the guys disappear. She disappears. The entire room disappears. Everything is black except for one brown door that looks like it’s standing up all by itself. And I think I’m freaking out. I think I’m suffocating. I think I’m dizzy.
The brown door creaks open slowly. There’s a squeaking noise as he rolls in toward me, stopping a few yards away. Michael, in a clown suit, riding a unicycle.
And then the entire things drops and it’s back to how it should have been. The Guerin house. Interrogation. Chair. Brad. Kyle. Michael. Tess.
Stare at Tess while two things pop into my head. One, Tess has a wicked sense of humor. Two, what she just did had the same feel as what happened in the diner in Santa Fe.
“That’s what I can do,” she smiles at me, her arms folded across her chest. I get the feeling that no one else saw that but me. Because I don’t know if Michael would be amused right now.
“What was that?” I ask because if Tess can do that, then that man in the diner must have the same power as well, to make people see things that aren’t really happening. Like how Alex said he saw me get shot. But… no bullet, no blood.
“That was a mind warp,” she has a serious look on her face. It wigs me out. “Now you try it.”
Wait… what? “How the hell do I do that?”
“Just…” she looks frustrated, “you just do it.”
“Tess, give her a break,” Alex walks straight through the front door and I have to curve my happiness in seeing him, just in case Tess is just messing with me again with her mind warp stuff. But possibly imaginary Alex keeps talking, “her powers are infantile, at best. Unlike the rest of us, she hasn’t been properly trained.”
He stands right beside me and with big brother Alex here, the interrogation room doesn’t seem so scary anymore.
She stares at Alex. “I just, I can’t accept that she is the queen unless she can prove it to us somehow.” And then she looks at me, “and she hasn’t done that yet.”
Shake my head once again, “I never said that I was. Never.”
“I’m sorry, I just-” Tess sighs and sits down, her head going into her hands, her intimidation factor decreasing exponentially, “so much is in the air, Liz. So much that you don’t even know. I mean, everyone’s lives are on the line here.”
“Tess, that isn’t fair,” Alex speaks over her, over me. “She doesn’t know. It’s not her fault.” He stares down everyone in the room. And then looks down at me with a smile. “You know what? I get the feeling that you’ve been at this for hours and you’re probably exhausted, right Liz?” he doesn’t wait for the answer. “So I’m going to take you home.”
No one says anything. I stand up and follow Alex out of the house and into his car.
“I can’t believe they would try to pull that,” Alex is complaining, putting the keys into the ignition.
I pull my seatbelt on. “Why?” I mean, it was grueling, and, given the choice, I would opt out of this little question and answer thing I spent my morning going through. But still, given the circumstances, I think, I can kind of see why “they were curious.”
“They have no right,” Alex pulls out of the driveway. “They may already know that they will become members of the Council, but seeing as how the current members are still alive and well, those kids can’t be exercising the powers that they don’t have yet.”
Alex calls them ‘those kids’, even though they’re the same age as him. But it kind of, almost makes sense at times like these. Because, some of the time, and I do only mean some of the time, Alex is a lot older than his age.
I wonder what he’s had to have gone through, as Max’s advisor, to make him this way.
Alex parks his car and walks into Max’s house with me, because, you know, the metal box and all its mysteries has peaked Alex’s curiosity.
Larek meets us at the door. “Miss Elizabeth. Mr. Whitman. Shall I prepare lunch?”
“I’m not hungry, Larek,” I say, walking past him to the stairs.
“No, thanks, Larek.” I can hear Alex say behind me.
He follows me to my designated room where he proceeds to pull some tools out of his pocket, sit down on the ground, and work at opening Pandora’s box.
I sit on my bed and just watch him try to work his wonders.
It’s strange. With all the things up in the air. With so many questions swarming my mind that I can’t even begin to recount them or think straight, it still feels as though my life is at some sort of stand still. It feels like nothing is happening.
And if you look at all that’s happened in the past few months, and all the things that are still happening, you’d think I’d be happy that I feel… settled.
But it’s just… I don’t know. It’s strange.
Hear Alex curse a few times before I ask the question, “how’s it going?”
“It’s not going,” he says, still staring at the box. “I can’t get it to open. I don’t know. There’s something weird with the box.”
I smile. He looks flustered. I think he’s flustered.
I’m not sure if I should ask, but, “can’t you like… blast it open?”
He looks at me, quirking his lips. “No. That’s not something I can do.”
“Oh.” Sigh. It’s not something he can do. But he didn’t say it can’t be done.
Sigh. I feel like I’m on a sugar low. Sigh.
“Okay.” Alex puts the box aside for the first time since he’s got here. “I bite. What’s up?”
I sit up straight and go “huh?”
“Come on,” he stands up and sits on the bed with me. “The sighing and the distanced look in your eyes. I go through a gazillion of these talks with Max. What’s up?”
Shake my head. “No idea what you’re talking about, Alex.”
He smiles one of his Alex smiles. “I know everything’s complicated right now. Things don’t really make sense and all that everyone tells you is just confusing the hell out of you.”
“Yeah.” Nod my head. “But that’s the thing. It’s okay.” Kind of. Sort of. Maybe. “I mean, in a way, I accept it.”
“You accept it?” he asks. He doesn’t believe me.
I try to explain. “I mean, my mom passed away. But I’ve dealt with it… kind of.” Well, as much as I’m willing to deal with it anyway. “And my dad’s in jail, but we’re trying to get him out because he didn’t murder my mom.”
Again with the unbelieving look, but I keep talking, “I have to find the person that did murder her. My mom ended up being an alien” with a higher purpose, “which consequently made me an alien” with a higher purpose. “There’s a weird alien king who wants to impregnate me with his alien child because he,” and a lot of other people, “thinks that I’m this special girl that’s supposed to be a queen to worlds of planets. So he’s willing to go through a whole planet to get to me, but won’t come to me himself.” I finish my monologue.
And I’m surprised that I still have Alex’s attention. “How do you know that?”
I smile at him because I’m smarter than he thinks. Although I don’t always listen, the pieces do go clickety click in my head. “If he could just kidnap me, you and Max would have me hidden and locked away in some basement somewhere. But you don’t. I go as I please.”
Alex smiles and he doesn’t dispute it because we both know that it’s true.
“You know they say Khivar’s good looking,” he says it like Maria would, flipping his hair a little.
Smile and shake my head at him. “You’ve never met him?”
“No,” he says, but he’s thinking, “at least, I don’t think I have. But he’s supposed to be very handsome and charming.”
“Charming?” A man that wants to nuke an entire planet? Charming is the last word I’d use.
Alex laughs, shaking his head. “Well, I don’t know if charming was the right word, but persuasive.”
I nod. I think he would have to be.
“Persuasive enough to convince Pam to leave Max for him.” Alex says. Alex isn’t smiling anymore.
I don’t smile either. Pam and I weren’t the best of friends when she was here. But what she’s doing now kind of isn’t something that you wish on any girl.
If only Max would have loved her back. But then, “Michael said that Max was more than obsessed with me since we first met. Maybe Pam could see that too. And what would you do in a situation like that, if you were a girl?”
He shrugs.
I answer for him, my understanding of Pam’s decision. Pam’s only objective was to be with Max. But Max says that he didn’t feel the same. So “if the person you want to be with doesn’t want you, you find someone who does.”
“The rebound guy?” he’s looking at me dead on. As though this is a tough subject that he’s really contemplating over this. Oh, the inner workings of the female mind.
“Sort of.” I guess.
“If you can’t be with the one you love, be with the one you’re with?” He seems sad. Maybe Max wasn’t the only one who loved Pam.
“Kind of.” I guess. “Maybe. And, I mean, Max and I… there is something there… a connection,” like they said. “I just… since the first moment I met him, I felt a pull to him… this...” how do you describe it? A “need to be with him.”
“How do you know?” He doesn’t believe me.
I shrug. “I feel it.” That’s all I can say.
He stares at me. “Maybe you are the girl.”
And I know everything is just crazy and off the wall, but it kind of makes sense.
I just sigh. “I’m not saying that I am. I’m just saying-”
His watch beeps. He stands from the bed. “I’ve got the dinner shift.”
Nod my head. Oh, “okay.”
He stares at the metal box. He kicks it.
And I ask him the question that I know he’s thinking. “So what do you think is inside it?”
“I don’t know.” I think he’s sending death glares to the evil box of mysteries. “But it’s pissing me off.” He sighs and looks my way. “Do you want to come with me?”
I go… “what?”
“The dinner shift.” He points at his watch. “We’re short a waitress.”
I nod. I know, because the Sunday dinner shift is usually mine with Maria. Stand up. “Okay.”
--------------
He parks his car in the back because the front parking lot is full. Full diner. Maria must be going crazy.
Walk in to the craziness that is the dinner rush with a sense of comfort. Maria was busting around behind the counter, too busy to even look up when Alex and I walk in. But Mr. Whitman waves and smiles from behind the grill.
Alex goes on into the back, but I stop at the pick-up window to say hi to Mr. Whitman.
“Hello, Liz,” he says with his bright and peachy attitude. “Long time no see.”
Nod and smile back.
“Here to work?” he asks, putting another plate up for Maria to take, dinging the bell, but Maria’s busy bringing drinks to another table.
Nod my head again. “Yup.”
“Good.” He looks relieved. “Why don’t you go suit up and you can work the counter today. Maria will take the tables.”
Nod my head and start for the back. It feels good to be here, doing this again.
--------------
Music blares from the stereo, the chairs are all put up, and Maria is busy singing along while she mops the floor. And I’m behind the counter, refilling the sugar and ketchup bottles. Maria and Mr. Whitman didn’t bombard me with questions like I thought they might.
Makes me think that maybe they don’t know what’s going on.
“So…” Maria puts the mop up and joins me behind the counter to help refill sugar and ketchup. “I haven’t seen you in school at all.”
I nod. “Yeah, I’ve been-”
“Adjusting?” she says.
And I give her a look that says, what?
“I know, Liz,” she says it like it explains it all. “Alex told me. Well, I had to pretty much threaten him and finally drag it out of him. Mr. Whitman knows too,” she nods toward the chef’s window where Alex and Mr. Whitman are cleaning up the cook’s area. “They aren’t just announcing the news though, because they don’t want everyone to just start pointing fingers and talking nonsense.”
“I see.” I say it like I get it, but I don’t understand what the hell she’s talking about.
I was finishing up screwing on the last of the tops to the sugars and closing up the massive industrial sized sugar bag to put it back in the back storage area when there was a knock on the front door.
Through the glass door and past the turquoise green Crashdown logo decal on the door, I can see the blonde curls of Tess, standing tall at five foot nothing.
Groan while I walk over to unlock the door. It’s not that I dislike her or anything. I mean, Tess and I never had anything bad going on between us. It’s just after this morning’s episode, there’s only so much Tess I can take.
I crack the door open. Put on a pretty smile. “What can I do for you, Tess?”
“Are you done working?” she glances inside, and then looks back at me. “I need to talk things over with you.”
I didn’t mean to roll my eyes. “But-”
“It’s very, very important,” she says in her serious Tess tone.
Sigh. “Wait here, let me go get changed.”
She nods.
I head off to the back to dress out and grab my bag.
Sigh. What could she want now?
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Last edited by Evelynn on Sun Sep 17, 2006 1:07 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Chapter Thirty Five:
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“So where are we going?” I ask this because it’s obvious that we are going somewhere, and that somewhere is far, far out of town.
“Don’t worry, so much.” She says this, but she says it with a smirk, and that smirk is what is unsettling.
Tess is driving with me in the passenger seat of a cute, pretty silver car. And from the shininess of the outside and the shininess of the inside, the car looks new. So I ask, “Where’d you get the car from?
“My birthday was last month. It was a birthday present,” she says, her eyes staying on the road.
“Oh.” Weird. Seeing as how Tess doesn’t have parents and lives in an orphanage, who would she know that has enough money to buy her a car? But then again, she is a… Council-er-to-be?
We sit in silence for about ten more minutes while I think of the different ways Tess can tie me up, kill me, and leave me for the vultures to peck at. Then she suddenly pulls off the road and straight into the desert.
The place looks familiar. I mean, I’m sure all the big rocks and sand and dust of the desert all look alike, but I think I’ve been here before.
Was this where Max took me? After prom?
“Okay,” she puts the car in park and turns the headlights off. “Get out.”
I wonder for a second what Tess would do if I said no. The thought didn’t last long though because Tess is already walking away.
I think it was curiosity that had me following her. But curiosity killed the cat, Lizzie. You’d think I’d have learned that by now.
She sits down on this rock a few yards away from her car and motions for me to sit down on another one in front of her.
It’s dark, but the moon is shining bright. Still, I could barely see.
Sit down and Tess just stares at me from where she sits, a few feet away.
“Okay, let’s get started.” She bends down and picks up a rock off the ground and tosses it in front of me. “Levitate it.”
Groan. Is she kidding me? Haven’t we been over this already? Spent a whole morning, in fact, going over this? And if I could barely get the pencil going, “how the hell am I going to move a heavy rock?”
“You don’t think about it,” she spits out. “You just do it.”
Stare at her and sigh. “Look, it’s late, it’s dark, I’m tired, I don’t know what-”
She stands up and picks up a few more rocks, pulling them into a neat little pile and starts waving her hands around in this weird circular pattern and after a few moments, the rocks light up with a blue tint.
Sit there and stare.
The fact that she can light things up isn’t really what surprises me. What gets to me is, “how the hell do you light rocks on fire?”
“They aren’t on fire,” she sits down next to her glowing blue rocks, “they’re illuminated. It’s like they’re…” I think she’s thinking of the right words, “glowing in the dark.”
She motions for me to sit on the ground next to her and her magical blue rocks.
“We’ll start slow then.” She leans over and picks up a small pebble-like rock and puts it in front of her.
Groan and sit down beside her. “Why did you take me out here, Tess? We’ve already been over all this. I’m not claiming to have power. I’m not claiming to be your queen or whatever. I’m not claiming anything.”
“I just wanted to have a little talk with you one on one.” She shrugs.
And I think she can hardly blame me if I don’t believe her. Since, you know, we are, kind of, “in the middle of the desert.”
She shrugs again. “I wanted privacy and seclusion. What better place?”
Sigh. Lean forward on my knees, my head in my hands. “So… what’s up?”
Again, she shrugs, just watching me. “Nothing much.”
“How’s it going?” I ask, feigning small talk, like she said she brought me out here for.
“Good.” She nods. “I got a new car, so it makes getting around a lot easier.” She smiles. “Not that Roswell’s that big of a place or anything to have to get around in. But it makes it easier.”
“Yeah,” apparently, “my mom left me a car too.” The awkward silence starts up with Tess just watching me again. So I go… “how’s the orphanage” and all its fun-ness?
Shrug. Shrug. Shrug. “It’s okay. It’s getting a little empty, but that just means single rooms for everyone, and less traffic in the bathroom, so I guess I can’t complain much.”
Oh, wow. Because when I was there, I had to share a room with Tess and the bathrooms in the mornings were a war zone. Must be quiet now. “Are there a lot of people adopting?”
“Sure. Well,” she stops. She thinks. She’s watching me and choosing her words. “Not so much getting adopted, more so their parents are pulling them back home,” she says it slow, I guess to see if I understand.
And I don’t. Because “the orphanage’s orphans’ parents are pulling them back home?” Shake my head while my brain turns. “That doesn’t make sense, Tess. How are they orphans if they have parents?”
“Nothing is what it seems, Liz,” she says it deliberately. “That’s the first thing you need to learn, especially in this town. Everything about Roswell is one big facade.”
Wait… “what?”
She draws in a deep breath. “Like, take Max for instance. To us, he is… was future ruler of a planetary realm, but as far as earth is concerned, he’s just another teenager, living in a small-town, single parent family.”
Sit and take it all in. “Single parent?”
She nods. “In all of his earth documents, Larek is his legal guardian.”
Larek. Legal guardian. Huh. But that’s Max, “what about you?”
She smiles and tells me her well rehearsed front of “I’m an orphan. They found me abandoned on the side of a road.”
Stare, brain churning. “But why? Why set up this whole elaborate conspiratorial society? Why are there aliens on earth?”
“To learn,” she takes another deep breath and starts her monologue. “When our scientist found life on this far away planet, they wanted to know more. And what better way than living amongst the planet’s beings to learn all we can about them? It’s the quest of knowledge. Our government decided to set up a colony here on earth, not just to learn more about earth life, but also to kind of set up a trial model colony, almost, without government interference. Well, not exactly without, I mean, there’s Max and,” she point to herself, “the Council, but they don’t really exert that much control, not like they do at home.”
And… “home for you is Antar?”
“Yes,” she nods. “I am Antarian.”
So they’re living here on earth among the earth beings. “Then does the government know about the town?”
“The US government?” She asks.
I nod.
She nods back. “Yes, of course. I mean, we’re on your territory, of course we asked permission. We have a good relationship with the head officials here. We give them some of our technology, and in exchange, they let us live freely among the people. In secret though. Earthlings have so much fear and paranoia.”
She gives me this look that I choose to ignore. Because my brain is filled with information that must be sorted. So “nothing is what it seems. Then what’s the orphanage?”
“Like…” her lips quirk, “a boarding house, I guess. We were given the opportunity to experience the earth culture and life. And if our parents didn’t come with us, we had to stay somewhere to be looked after.”
It kind of… I don’t know… makes sense.
“So... do you want to try now?” Her foot sticks out and kicks the little pebble at me again.
Groan.
“Look, Liz. I can see it. I can…” she’s pausing to choose her words again, “accept that you’re one of us. Fine. And, you know what? The other thing, it might be a possibility too. Sure Max likes you. You like Max. Fine. But I’m not a hopeful romantic like Kyle is. I can’t just take everything blindly. So I have to see for myself.”
I stare at the stupid pebble.
“And aren’t you the least bit curious about what you can and can’t do.” I hear her voice.
My head picks up. “What do you mean?”
“Your abilities,” she makes this face. “Come on, Kyle isn’t the best of teachers.”
“So,” pick up the pebble and hold it in my hand, “you’re going to teach me?” Raise my eyebrows.
“I’m going to test you,” she corrects me. “And hopefully you’ll pick up a thing or two along the way. But I’ll be honest, managing and mastering your abilities aren’t things you can just pick up overnight. It takes years.”
I don’t even know if I understand what all she’s saying. It’s really confusing the alien/human thing and all it entails.
“So do you want to do this or not?” I hear her ask.
Toss the pebble around a bit in my hand. “Yes, I do.”
--------------
Tess ended up dropping me off at two in the morning.
We spent over three hours in that desert. And to Tess’s dismay and frustration, I didn’t pick up all too much of what we went over.
Not that the night wasn’t a total loss. I managed to blow up a pebble. How I did it, I’m still not sure. But it happened somewhere between Tess yelling at me again and me wanting to deck her.
Step out of her car and walk to the front door.
Max’s car wasn’t in the driveway. But what could I expect? His car hasn’t been around for the past few days. He hasn’t been around for the past few days.
Larek opens the door for me. He doesn’t ask any questions, just lets me in.
He takes my bag from me and I let him, being too tired to argue or even notice.
“Mr. Alex Whitman called. He said he’ll be by in the morning to pick you up. He says you’ve discussed this.”
Nod my head and try to make it up the stairs.
“I’ve collected admission forms to the colleges you wanted. They’re on your desk.”
Nod my head and try to make it up the stairs.
“Maxwell phoned you. He says he misses you.”
Stop at the top. And turn into my room.
--------------
Alex stopped by the next morning, just as he said he would. Good ole dependable Alex.
“Any luck with the box?” he asks from the driver seat of his car.
Shake my head. “Haven’t really tried since the last time.” Haven’t really thought about it since the last time. I mean, “what’s your obsession with it, anyway?”
“Aren’t you in the least bit curious?”
Curiosity killed the cat, Alex.
He parks the car and leans back in the seat. It’s tense. His fingers tap the steering wheel. “So are you sure you’re up for this?”
Sit. Sigh. Nod. “I need to make some sense in my life, Alex. And I think I’ll find it here.”
“Alright.” He opens his door. “Let’s go.”
I follow him as we walk down the paved sidewalk up the building.
He opens the door for me and pushes me inside. “Welcome back to West Roswell High.”
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Two classes and an uncountable number of stares and whispers and pointing later, I pull Alex aside with my mind made up. “I’m ready to go.”
He looks at me. “Are you sure? The day’s only half way done.”
Nod my head emphatically. The stares, the questions, the gossiping… “I’m done with this.”
“Alright.” His arm goes around my shoulder. “I’ll take you home then.”
We just walk out of the building and into the parking lot.
Not that it really mattered much. I mean, Alex said, I could skip out of the remainder of the school year and still graduate fine.
And then what?
Look at Alex, whose arm is still around my shoulders. “I’ve been looking over college admission forms.”
“Really?” he asks. His arm loosens its hold.
Nod my head and sigh. “Yeah.”
He thinks for a bit and then lets go of my shoulders to unlock the door while nodding his head. “I think it’s a good idea.”
Surprised, “you do?”
He nods. “Yeah. I think… I don’t know. All of this alien stuff…” he shakes his head. “You shouldn’t have to suddenly become a part of it. I mean, it is a part of you, your mom and all. But… you were human. You are human.”
He gets into the driver’s seat and I follow suit into the passenger side.
He buckles his seatbelt. “Oh, your dad has been transferred. You can visit him whenever you want.”
Dad’s been transferred? I can visit him? “I can?”
“Yeah,” he starts up the engine. “I can take you to him now if you want.”
Nod my head. “That’d be nice.”
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“So I’ve been looking at college applications,” I say, sitting in a chair in his single bed jail cell.
“Well, you should be,” he’s says, watering the potted plant I gave him. “You’ll be graduating in a month, right?”
In a month? Hopefully. I mean, “I think so.”
He puts the water can down, giving me his dad look. “What do you mean, you think so?”
“I mean… I…” Lower my head. “Yes.” I’ve decided that, while he’s still in here, it’s better to just let him hear what he wants to hear.
Open up my backpack and pull out a folder of papers. “Did you know about mom’s trips to Santa Fe?”
He sits down in a chair beside me. “I knew about all her trips. I didn’t know about Santa Fe.”
So then he wouldn’t know what she was doing there, and he wouldn’t know what the mysterious metal box contains.
Watch him. How does he expect me to figure this out? When there’s so much that doesn’t make sense to me. “What I don’t understand is how you said you weren’t there the day of…” deep breath. “The night it all happened.”
“Right.” He nods. “I wasn’t.”
I tap on the manila envelope on the table. “But the police reports say you were there. The neighbors remember seeing you. I remember seeing you!”
He gives me his silent brooding, ‘I don’t have to explain to you because I’m your father’ look. Sigh and flip through the pages of the police reports. “But you said to the police that…” my eyes skim over the words. “You said you were with someone else.”
He works his jaw. Then, nods his head. “I was.”
It’s funny, because I don’t know how I’m going to get any of this worked out if I can’t even get his cooperation. “Who were you with, dad?”
He sighs. His hand goes through his hair. “It isn’t important now.”
“Yes it is. If you can bring up this witness, I mean, it may not be much, but it maybe shows that you weren’t there.” Right? Even though everyone saw him there. Even though I saw him?
He gives me silence and it’s not that comfortable type of silence that we usually have. At least, that we did have.
He stares down at the table. His voice low, “she’s dead.”
I think my throat closes up. “She?”
More silence. Foreboding silence.
I don’t want to know the answer. But I have to hear him say it.
“I was having an affair.”
My mind jumps from my head. “What?!”
Stare at him and he only sits there.
“I’m only human, Liz.”
“But-”
“I loved your mother, more than anything.” Strong words. He uses strong words and a strong voice. But if he really loved my mom then why would he-
“She was hardly around. And when she was, we would always argue and fight. I mean, we fought the night before. And…” his head goes into his hands. “It was an escape. A means to an end, almost.”
Shove the paperwork into my bag and head towards the door. “I can’t be here right now.”
Motion towards the guard and he walks over with the key.
“Just remember honey-bear,” I can hear his voice, still seated at the table. “I have my faults too, but I’m still your father.”
I don’t turn. But I nod my head and leave.
Alex is waiting for me outside.
Walk past him and he gets up and follows. “Something wrong, Liz?”
Just shake my head.
“I take it, he didn’t know what was in the box?”
Shake my head.
The drive back to Max’s was slow.
Alex pulls the car up into the driveway.
He looks at me while I gather my bag. “So you want to take another whack at it?”
Shake my head.
“Okay,” he looks me straight in the eyes. “Whatever’s bothering you, sleep it off. You’ll feel better in the morning. And I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Larek didn’t question me when he opened the door and I stepped inside without a word.
I wonder if he just somehow knows what I’m thinking with his secret super-duper butler skills.
Walk up to my room and sink into my bed.
Why is this affecting me so much?
Mom and dad are only human. Well, at least, dad is. They both have their faults. But they both loved each other so much. You could see it in their eyes. The way he talked about her. How she left behind everything for him.
But if love led them to cheating and lies, what good is it?
The door opens and Larek places a tray of milk and cookies on my desk for me. He leaves again without a word.
I stay where I lie.
Where’s Max?
I lie there. Not thinking of anything or thinking too much of everything that I can’t discern the thoughts. One or the other.
The door opens hours later and Larek takes the untouched tray away.
I roll over and stay where I am.
The door opens again. And I wonder if Larek is going to make me eat something. But it closes. My heart beats a little faster. I hear footsteps creep to the bed. Turn. Freeze. Max.
“Max.”
He smiles. He takes off his shoes. And he lies down next to me.
Am I dreaming?
Turn towards him and reach my hand up, feeling the stubble growth on his chin. It’s prickly, but soft. “You’re real.”
He smiles. “Did you think you were imagining me?”
“Yes.” And I’m still not yet convinced that I’m not.
“I’m real.” He says and he pulls me closer to him, arm going around me. He’s warm.
One finger comes up and traces down my cheek. “Tears?”
Shake my head and scrub at my face. “I don’t even know why I’m crying.”
“Yes, you do. You just don’t want to tell me.” He holds me closer. And I let him. My nose nuzzles into his chest. He smells good.
One hand rubs my back and he runs his fingers through my hair with the other.
My hand pulls at his shirt. “Do you love me?”
I feel his hands tighten. “More than you’ll ever know.”
“And love conquers all?” My voice sounds small.
“I hope to god it does.” His voice is rough. I can feel his heart constrict. Weird, huh?
“Would you ever cheat on me?” Like I mean nothing. Like it didn’t matter. “Not that I’m saying that we’re together or–I mean-”
“We’re together,” he says. “We’re together now, aren’t we?”
Lick my lips. “I guess so.”
“Liz,” his hand tilts my head up, making me look straight into his eyes, into his soul. “You complete me in so many different ways, I can’t even begin to understand it or put it into words. And no one can take away what you mean to me, what you’ll always mean to me.” His voice deepens, “you’re the love of my life. And I can promise you right now, that there will never be another.”
My mouth opens and closes. My head goes from side to side. “Max… those are… big words.” Big words that hold a lot of meaning that can only make me hurt more in the end. Because, “I mean, you’re only eighteen.” Next year could be different. Next month could be different. Hell, tomorrow could bring something that will change his mind. “Who is to say-”
His finger goes to my lips. He’s soft. He’s gentle. He can see straight into my being and tickles my heart with his words. “There will never be another.”
And the funny thing about being in love with him too, is that… I believe him.
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Chapter Thirty Five:
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“So where are we going?” I ask this because it’s obvious that we are going somewhere, and that somewhere is far, far out of town.
“Don’t worry, so much.” She says this, but she says it with a smirk, and that smirk is what is unsettling.
Tess is driving with me in the passenger seat of a cute, pretty silver car. And from the shininess of the outside and the shininess of the inside, the car looks new. So I ask, “Where’d you get the car from?
“My birthday was last month. It was a birthday present,” she says, her eyes staying on the road.
“Oh.” Weird. Seeing as how Tess doesn’t have parents and lives in an orphanage, who would she know that has enough money to buy her a car? But then again, she is a… Council-er-to-be?
We sit in silence for about ten more minutes while I think of the different ways Tess can tie me up, kill me, and leave me for the vultures to peck at. Then she suddenly pulls off the road and straight into the desert.
The place looks familiar. I mean, I’m sure all the big rocks and sand and dust of the desert all look alike, but I think I’ve been here before.
Was this where Max took me? After prom?
“Okay,” she puts the car in park and turns the headlights off. “Get out.”
I wonder for a second what Tess would do if I said no. The thought didn’t last long though because Tess is already walking away.
I think it was curiosity that had me following her. But curiosity killed the cat, Lizzie. You’d think I’d have learned that by now.
She sits down on this rock a few yards away from her car and motions for me to sit down on another one in front of her.
It’s dark, but the moon is shining bright. Still, I could barely see.
Sit down and Tess just stares at me from where she sits, a few feet away.
“Okay, let’s get started.” She bends down and picks up a rock off the ground and tosses it in front of me. “Levitate it.”
Groan. Is she kidding me? Haven’t we been over this already? Spent a whole morning, in fact, going over this? And if I could barely get the pencil going, “how the hell am I going to move a heavy rock?”
“You don’t think about it,” she spits out. “You just do it.”
Stare at her and sigh. “Look, it’s late, it’s dark, I’m tired, I don’t know what-”
She stands up and picks up a few more rocks, pulling them into a neat little pile and starts waving her hands around in this weird circular pattern and after a few moments, the rocks light up with a blue tint.
Sit there and stare.
The fact that she can light things up isn’t really what surprises me. What gets to me is, “how the hell do you light rocks on fire?”
“They aren’t on fire,” she sits down next to her glowing blue rocks, “they’re illuminated. It’s like they’re…” I think she’s thinking of the right words, “glowing in the dark.”
She motions for me to sit on the ground next to her and her magical blue rocks.
“We’ll start slow then.” She leans over and picks up a small pebble-like rock and puts it in front of her.
Groan and sit down beside her. “Why did you take me out here, Tess? We’ve already been over all this. I’m not claiming to have power. I’m not claiming to be your queen or whatever. I’m not claiming anything.”
“I just wanted to have a little talk with you one on one.” She shrugs.
And I think she can hardly blame me if I don’t believe her. Since, you know, we are, kind of, “in the middle of the desert.”
She shrugs again. “I wanted privacy and seclusion. What better place?”
Sigh. Lean forward on my knees, my head in my hands. “So… what’s up?”
Again, she shrugs, just watching me. “Nothing much.”
“How’s it going?” I ask, feigning small talk, like she said she brought me out here for.
“Good.” She nods. “I got a new car, so it makes getting around a lot easier.” She smiles. “Not that Roswell’s that big of a place or anything to have to get around in. But it makes it easier.”
“Yeah,” apparently, “my mom left me a car too.” The awkward silence starts up with Tess just watching me again. So I go… “how’s the orphanage” and all its fun-ness?
Shrug. Shrug. Shrug. “It’s okay. It’s getting a little empty, but that just means single rooms for everyone, and less traffic in the bathroom, so I guess I can’t complain much.”
Oh, wow. Because when I was there, I had to share a room with Tess and the bathrooms in the mornings were a war zone. Must be quiet now. “Are there a lot of people adopting?”
“Sure. Well,” she stops. She thinks. She’s watching me and choosing her words. “Not so much getting adopted, more so their parents are pulling them back home,” she says it slow, I guess to see if I understand.
And I don’t. Because “the orphanage’s orphans’ parents are pulling them back home?” Shake my head while my brain turns. “That doesn’t make sense, Tess. How are they orphans if they have parents?”
“Nothing is what it seems, Liz,” she says it deliberately. “That’s the first thing you need to learn, especially in this town. Everything about Roswell is one big facade.”
Wait… “what?”
She draws in a deep breath. “Like, take Max for instance. To us, he is… was future ruler of a planetary realm, but as far as earth is concerned, he’s just another teenager, living in a small-town, single parent family.”
Sit and take it all in. “Single parent?”
She nods. “In all of his earth documents, Larek is his legal guardian.”
Larek. Legal guardian. Huh. But that’s Max, “what about you?”
She smiles and tells me her well rehearsed front of “I’m an orphan. They found me abandoned on the side of a road.”
Stare, brain churning. “But why? Why set up this whole elaborate conspiratorial society? Why are there aliens on earth?”
“To learn,” she takes another deep breath and starts her monologue. “When our scientist found life on this far away planet, they wanted to know more. And what better way than living amongst the planet’s beings to learn all we can about them? It’s the quest of knowledge. Our government decided to set up a colony here on earth, not just to learn more about earth life, but also to kind of set up a trial model colony, almost, without government interference. Well, not exactly without, I mean, there’s Max and,” she point to herself, “the Council, but they don’t really exert that much control, not like they do at home.”
And… “home for you is Antar?”
“Yes,” she nods. “I am Antarian.”
So they’re living here on earth among the earth beings. “Then does the government know about the town?”
“The US government?” She asks.
I nod.
She nods back. “Yes, of course. I mean, we’re on your territory, of course we asked permission. We have a good relationship with the head officials here. We give them some of our technology, and in exchange, they let us live freely among the people. In secret though. Earthlings have so much fear and paranoia.”
She gives me this look that I choose to ignore. Because my brain is filled with information that must be sorted. So “nothing is what it seems. Then what’s the orphanage?”
“Like…” her lips quirk, “a boarding house, I guess. We were given the opportunity to experience the earth culture and life. And if our parents didn’t come with us, we had to stay somewhere to be looked after.”
It kind of… I don’t know… makes sense.
“So... do you want to try now?” Her foot sticks out and kicks the little pebble at me again.
Groan.
“Look, Liz. I can see it. I can…” she’s pausing to choose her words again, “accept that you’re one of us. Fine. And, you know what? The other thing, it might be a possibility too. Sure Max likes you. You like Max. Fine. But I’m not a hopeful romantic like Kyle is. I can’t just take everything blindly. So I have to see for myself.”
I stare at the stupid pebble.
“And aren’t you the least bit curious about what you can and can’t do.” I hear her voice.
My head picks up. “What do you mean?”
“Your abilities,” she makes this face. “Come on, Kyle isn’t the best of teachers.”
“So,” pick up the pebble and hold it in my hand, “you’re going to teach me?” Raise my eyebrows.
“I’m going to test you,” she corrects me. “And hopefully you’ll pick up a thing or two along the way. But I’ll be honest, managing and mastering your abilities aren’t things you can just pick up overnight. It takes years.”
I don’t even know if I understand what all she’s saying. It’s really confusing the alien/human thing and all it entails.
“So do you want to do this or not?” I hear her ask.
Toss the pebble around a bit in my hand. “Yes, I do.”
--------------
Tess ended up dropping me off at two in the morning.
We spent over three hours in that desert. And to Tess’s dismay and frustration, I didn’t pick up all too much of what we went over.
Not that the night wasn’t a total loss. I managed to blow up a pebble. How I did it, I’m still not sure. But it happened somewhere between Tess yelling at me again and me wanting to deck her.
Step out of her car and walk to the front door.
Max’s car wasn’t in the driveway. But what could I expect? His car hasn’t been around for the past few days. He hasn’t been around for the past few days.
Larek opens the door for me. He doesn’t ask any questions, just lets me in.
He takes my bag from me and I let him, being too tired to argue or even notice.
“Mr. Alex Whitman called. He said he’ll be by in the morning to pick you up. He says you’ve discussed this.”
Nod my head and try to make it up the stairs.
“I’ve collected admission forms to the colleges you wanted. They’re on your desk.”
Nod my head and try to make it up the stairs.
“Maxwell phoned you. He says he misses you.”
Stop at the top. And turn into my room.
--------------
Alex stopped by the next morning, just as he said he would. Good ole dependable Alex.
“Any luck with the box?” he asks from the driver seat of his car.
Shake my head. “Haven’t really tried since the last time.” Haven’t really thought about it since the last time. I mean, “what’s your obsession with it, anyway?”
“Aren’t you in the least bit curious?”
Curiosity killed the cat, Alex.
He parks the car and leans back in the seat. It’s tense. His fingers tap the steering wheel. “So are you sure you’re up for this?”
Sit. Sigh. Nod. “I need to make some sense in my life, Alex. And I think I’ll find it here.”
“Alright.” He opens his door. “Let’s go.”
I follow him as we walk down the paved sidewalk up the building.
He opens the door for me and pushes me inside. “Welcome back to West Roswell High.”
--------------
Two classes and an uncountable number of stares and whispers and pointing later, I pull Alex aside with my mind made up. “I’m ready to go.”
He looks at me. “Are you sure? The day’s only half way done.”
Nod my head emphatically. The stares, the questions, the gossiping… “I’m done with this.”
“Alright.” His arm goes around my shoulder. “I’ll take you home then.”
We just walk out of the building and into the parking lot.
Not that it really mattered much. I mean, Alex said, I could skip out of the remainder of the school year and still graduate fine.
And then what?
Look at Alex, whose arm is still around my shoulders. “I’ve been looking over college admission forms.”
“Really?” he asks. His arm loosens its hold.
Nod my head and sigh. “Yeah.”
He thinks for a bit and then lets go of my shoulders to unlock the door while nodding his head. “I think it’s a good idea.”
Surprised, “you do?”
He nods. “Yeah. I think… I don’t know. All of this alien stuff…” he shakes his head. “You shouldn’t have to suddenly become a part of it. I mean, it is a part of you, your mom and all. But… you were human. You are human.”
He gets into the driver’s seat and I follow suit into the passenger side.
He buckles his seatbelt. “Oh, your dad has been transferred. You can visit him whenever you want.”
Dad’s been transferred? I can visit him? “I can?”
“Yeah,” he starts up the engine. “I can take you to him now if you want.”
Nod my head. “That’d be nice.”
--------------
“So I’ve been looking at college applications,” I say, sitting in a chair in his single bed jail cell.
“Well, you should be,” he’s says, watering the potted plant I gave him. “You’ll be graduating in a month, right?”
In a month? Hopefully. I mean, “I think so.”
He puts the water can down, giving me his dad look. “What do you mean, you think so?”
“I mean… I…” Lower my head. “Yes.” I’ve decided that, while he’s still in here, it’s better to just let him hear what he wants to hear.
Open up my backpack and pull out a folder of papers. “Did you know about mom’s trips to Santa Fe?”
He sits down in a chair beside me. “I knew about all her trips. I didn’t know about Santa Fe.”
So then he wouldn’t know what she was doing there, and he wouldn’t know what the mysterious metal box contains.
Watch him. How does he expect me to figure this out? When there’s so much that doesn’t make sense to me. “What I don’t understand is how you said you weren’t there the day of…” deep breath. “The night it all happened.”
“Right.” He nods. “I wasn’t.”
I tap on the manila envelope on the table. “But the police reports say you were there. The neighbors remember seeing you. I remember seeing you!”
He gives me his silent brooding, ‘I don’t have to explain to you because I’m your father’ look. Sigh and flip through the pages of the police reports. “But you said to the police that…” my eyes skim over the words. “You said you were with someone else.”
He works his jaw. Then, nods his head. “I was.”
It’s funny, because I don’t know how I’m going to get any of this worked out if I can’t even get his cooperation. “Who were you with, dad?”
He sighs. His hand goes through his hair. “It isn’t important now.”
“Yes it is. If you can bring up this witness, I mean, it may not be much, but it maybe shows that you weren’t there.” Right? Even though everyone saw him there. Even though I saw him?
He gives me silence and it’s not that comfortable type of silence that we usually have. At least, that we did have.
He stares down at the table. His voice low, “she’s dead.”
I think my throat closes up. “She?”
More silence. Foreboding silence.
I don’t want to know the answer. But I have to hear him say it.
“I was having an affair.”
My mind jumps from my head. “What?!”
Stare at him and he only sits there.
“I’m only human, Liz.”
“But-”
“I loved your mother, more than anything.” Strong words. He uses strong words and a strong voice. But if he really loved my mom then why would he-
“She was hardly around. And when she was, we would always argue and fight. I mean, we fought the night before. And…” his head goes into his hands. “It was an escape. A means to an end, almost.”
Shove the paperwork into my bag and head towards the door. “I can’t be here right now.”
Motion towards the guard and he walks over with the key.
“Just remember honey-bear,” I can hear his voice, still seated at the table. “I have my faults too, but I’m still your father.”
I don’t turn. But I nod my head and leave.
Alex is waiting for me outside.
Walk past him and he gets up and follows. “Something wrong, Liz?”
Just shake my head.
“I take it, he didn’t know what was in the box?”
Shake my head.
The drive back to Max’s was slow.
Alex pulls the car up into the driveway.
He looks at me while I gather my bag. “So you want to take another whack at it?”
Shake my head.
“Okay,” he looks me straight in the eyes. “Whatever’s bothering you, sleep it off. You’ll feel better in the morning. And I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Larek didn’t question me when he opened the door and I stepped inside without a word.
I wonder if he just somehow knows what I’m thinking with his secret super-duper butler skills.
Walk up to my room and sink into my bed.
Why is this affecting me so much?
Mom and dad are only human. Well, at least, dad is. They both have their faults. But they both loved each other so much. You could see it in their eyes. The way he talked about her. How she left behind everything for him.
But if love led them to cheating and lies, what good is it?
The door opens and Larek places a tray of milk and cookies on my desk for me. He leaves again without a word.
I stay where I lie.
Where’s Max?
I lie there. Not thinking of anything or thinking too much of everything that I can’t discern the thoughts. One or the other.
The door opens hours later and Larek takes the untouched tray away.
I roll over and stay where I am.
The door opens again. And I wonder if Larek is going to make me eat something. But it closes. My heart beats a little faster. I hear footsteps creep to the bed. Turn. Freeze. Max.
“Max.”
He smiles. He takes off his shoes. And he lies down next to me.
Am I dreaming?
Turn towards him and reach my hand up, feeling the stubble growth on his chin. It’s prickly, but soft. “You’re real.”
He smiles. “Did you think you were imagining me?”
“Yes.” And I’m still not yet convinced that I’m not.
“I’m real.” He says and he pulls me closer to him, arm going around me. He’s warm.
One finger comes up and traces down my cheek. “Tears?”
Shake my head and scrub at my face. “I don’t even know why I’m crying.”
“Yes, you do. You just don’t want to tell me.” He holds me closer. And I let him. My nose nuzzles into his chest. He smells good.
One hand rubs my back and he runs his fingers through my hair with the other.
My hand pulls at his shirt. “Do you love me?”
I feel his hands tighten. “More than you’ll ever know.”
“And love conquers all?” My voice sounds small.
“I hope to god it does.” His voice is rough. I can feel his heart constrict. Weird, huh?
“Would you ever cheat on me?” Like I mean nothing. Like it didn’t matter. “Not that I’m saying that we’re together or–I mean-”
“We’re together,” he says. “We’re together now, aren’t we?”
Lick my lips. “I guess so.”
“Liz,” his hand tilts my head up, making me look straight into his eyes, into his soul. “You complete me in so many different ways, I can’t even begin to understand it or put it into words. And no one can take away what you mean to me, what you’ll always mean to me.” His voice deepens, “you’re the love of my life. And I can promise you right now, that there will never be another.”
My mouth opens and closes. My head goes from side to side. “Max… those are… big words.” Big words that hold a lot of meaning that can only make me hurt more in the end. Because, “I mean, you’re only eighteen.” Next year could be different. Next month could be different. Hell, tomorrow could bring something that will change his mind. “Who is to say-”
His finger goes to my lips. He’s soft. He’s gentle. He can see straight into my being and tickles my heart with his words. “There will never be another.”
And the funny thing about being in love with him too, is that… I believe him.
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Last edited by Evelynn on Sun Sep 17, 2006 9:34 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Chapter Thirty Six:
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There’s a tickle in my ear. Then a poke at my side. Pressure on my nose. And then a pat on my cheek.
I twist and turn, but I keep my eyes closed.
Until the light comes on.
Groan and pull the blanket over my head.
It’s pulled off and the bed shifts. A whisper in my ear, “good morning, sunshine.”
Groan and try to cover my eyes. Not that I don’t enjoy the sound of his voice on any other occasion, it’s just that… I’m sleepy. “What time is it?” my voice comes out very croaky, like Kermit the frog, croaky, which is not exactly the sexiest thing in the world.
“A little past five.” His voice gets louder with each word.
Roll over with another groan. “Give me two more hours of sleep.”
“No,” I hear him say before I’m pulled back again.
Groan. Grumble. Kick. “But… Max… I need sleep to get me through school today.” I didn’t have enough energy to make it through all of yesterday. Without more sleep, god knows if I’ll make it through today.
I can feel his warm touch on me, trailing heat up and down my arm. It’s nice.
You know what else is nice? Sleep.
“Don’t go,” I hear him say. And my eyes open. Because there was something in the way he said it. Some kind of emotion underneath.
Stare into his eyes. They’re crowded with feelings. “What do you mean, Max?”
“Stay with me today.” He tries to cover it up with a smile. Doesn’t he know that I can see right through it? Like I know that he can see right through me?
Sit up on the bed. He watches me, but stays lying on the bed. I wait for it. I wait for him to tell me what’s wrong. To open up to me. For him to make the first move. Because I won’t push. But something’s wrong.
He laces his fingers together behind his head, shrugging nonchalantly, when nonchalance is hardly what’s swirling through him right now. “I just want to spend the whole day with you,” he says.
Shake my head. “There’s something else.” I feel it in him. I sense his turmoil. He’s upset, but he won’t say.
He swallows hard. “I just want to be with you, Liz.”
But his eyes tell me that there’s more to it. Eyes are the windows to the soul, you know. And Max’s eyes are beautiful. Beautiful and sad.
Sigh. “Do you remember, at the gas station, that day,” the day I tried to leave him. Tried, unsuccessfully. “And you asked me if I felt this pull towards you? And I said ‘no’?”
Watch him nod slowly before I keep going, “I lied.”
He nods again. He knew. He always knows.
My eyes stare down at the patterns on the bed sheet, because we’re having one of those awkward, honest, open your soul moments. And it’s mushy moments like these that I’m just not really good at. I wasn’t built to be like this. To need him. To lean on him. To love him.
Deep breath. “And everyone, Alex, Michael and Tess and them, they all wanted to know if I feel this… this connection to you. And I’ve always denied it. But… I was lying then too.”
He sits up. Fingers run along my cheek, down to my chin, lifting my head up and forcing me to look at him, to acknowledge him, to face this soul bearing moment head on.
Lick my lips. “See, th-the truth is… I feel you.” My throat closes up, my heart beats faster. “I feel this… this need to just… be around you, be with you.” My eyes drop again. And “I don’t know if that’s the connection they’re talking about. But… at first, when I first ever laid eyes on you, it was like a small nagging in the back of my mind. And it just kept building and building and now…” shake my head, “now, it’s so strong,” that it’s scaring me to death. Because I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with this feeling. Or how I’m supposed to act.
Arms pull me to him, fingers brush at my cheeks.
He lets me lean on him. He gives me comfort. And he lets me need him.
He pulls away, stares at me with his beautiful eyes, and jokes, “all this for just asking you to play hooky with me?”
Roll my eyes. And I’ve forgotten even the reason for my impromptu confession.
I don’t know if he even realizes the depth of what all I just said. Sigh. Well, if he won’t acknowledge it, I’m sure as hell not going to either.
Try to lie back down but Max stops me.
“Please, Liz?” I hear the heartbreak, the desperation, the earnest in his voice. “Just give me today.” Stare into his eyes and I think I even forget to breathe. “I need this.”
I nod my head.
There was no arguing with him. Not that I really tried. How could you deny someone when they put it in those words?
--------------
Thirty minutes later, I’m seated beside him on a blanket in the desert, my head on his shoulder and my hand in his.
It feels very much like a couple moment. Two people, together, watching the sunrise. Very romantic, right?
Yawn.
He gives my hand a squeeze, whispering to me, “you’re missing the best part.”
“Huh?” Open my eyes and yawn again. “I’m not missing it. I’m here, aren’t I?”
Smile cheekily up at him and I’m rewarded with a small grin and a touch to the cheek.
“Thank you for coming,” I hear him whisper and I snuggle in closer to him. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he asks.
And I have to wonder. “Do you have sunrises like this on your planet?”
“Yeah,” he nods his head. “Pretty sunrises and sunsets. I used to watch them all the time, but… none have ever felt as good as this one.”
I have to agree with him there. Something is just making this one exceptionally nice. Or rather, someone.
Look up at him. He looks so calm right now. So peaceful. So unlike how he’s been lately, with all that’s been up in the air. All the things that have been going on in his mind. All that’s been going on in mine.
He said he needed this. A day to just get away from it all. I think I needed this too.
Smile up at him while he stares off at the horizon. “So this is all you dragged me out here for?”
“Yup,” he says, without hesitation, without even looking my way.
Huh. “Well, then.” My smile widens with his.
He finally gives me a quick side glance. “Are you disappointed?”
Shake my head. “No.”
“Good.”
And our day went on like that. Max kept the conversation light and pleasant. We smiled. We laid with each other on the spread out blanket on the desert floor. We got to just enjoy each other’s company. A worry-free day. Because that’s what he wanted. And it’s what I needed.
“Thank you,” I say, hours later, with him lying on his back and me propped up with my head against his chest.
He gives me this quizzical look and I say, honestly and openly, “I like being with you, Max.”
And he nods his head but I can feel his breath catching.
Close my eyes and ignore it. Ignore that through all of my declarations and admissions of my adoration and affection of him, he has yet to acknowledge or reply back a word.
It’s funny, isn’t it? How before he was more than confident in his feelings toward me. And I was the one that kept denying mine. And now… I can’t even get a response out of him.
“What’s on your mind?” I hear him ask. He can feel the uncertainty in me, like I can feel his.
Roll over and lie on my stomach, watching him for any kind of reaction at all. “What’s been going on with you these past few days, Max?”
He keeps the light smile on his face, playing innocent. “What do you mean?”
Sigh. “I can… I can sense you. If that even makes sense. And you don’t feel right. Like something’s wrong.” Feels wrong.
I watch him close his eyes and he stays silent.
He’s been keeping the conversation light and pleasant. He won’t talk about anything serious, like what’s bugging him. And when I try to talk about it, he ignores me. I hate to push him. I hate to force him. But… if he won’t even talk to me…
Sigh. Stand up and walk away.
He’s behind me less than a minute later, gripping onto my arm until I stop walking, but I refuse to turn around.
He sighs and he pulls me into his arms. One arm goes around my waist, the other smoothing out my hair. “I love you, Liz. Don’t ever think that I don’t.”
I look at him then. “Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?”
“Because some times, things just don’t work out the way you want them to,” his voice is low and quiet and full of emotion. “And no matter how much I want it to be different, I have a responsibility to others. And my happiness is insignificant in comparison to their well-being.”
I stare. “What are you saying?”
“Nothing… everything… I…” there’s something in his voice. “I have to tell you something.”
And I wait for it. But it doesn’t come. “Are you going to tell me?”
“No.” And he walks back to where the blanket is.
I follow and call after him.
He stops walking and turns around, with a new attitude. A light and pleasant smile on his face. All seriousness gone. “Tomorrow. I’ll tell you tomorrow. Just let me have today, Liz.”
Sigh and shake my head. “You talk very cryptically, you know that?”
And he just keeps on smiling, pulling me closer to him again. “I love you, with every part of me. That’s all you need to know today.”
I give in and I give up. I don’t push it because “I love you too, Max.”
And that was it. I dropped it after that. After all, wasn’t it enough to know that he loves me?
--------------
“I’m thinking about getting an apartment,” I keep up light conversation while we eat the picnic lunch Max packed for us.
“Yeah?” and he just smiles. “I think it’s a good idea.”
“Well,” shrug my shoulders. “I’d have to pick where I want to go to college first.”
He’s still not looking at me. Just smiles while he eats his sandwich. “Good for you, Liz. Got any places in mind? Harvard? Yale?” Again with the light and pleasant smile.
Shake my head. “No. I was thinking of just going to UNM. University of New Mexico, you know. That way I’m only about a three hour drive away.” And he could come visit me, if he wanted.
He doesn’t say anything. He keeps eating his sandwich.
“And I have a car now,” I throw in. “Well, I haven’t driven it or really even looked at it. But I have one now, so I could come back and visit you, on the weekends.”
I wait for some type of response. Anything. Any sign that he doesn’t want me to go away. That he wants me to stay here. With him.
But all I get from him is a nod and another light smile.
Lower my eyes and take another bite of my sandwich. I think after that, I just kept talking for the sake of talking. Silence isn’t as comforting as it used to be.
I talked about my attempt at going back to school. I talked about learning to make mashed potatoes with Larek. I talked about my dad… “And… um… I think I’m making progress on my dad’s case. He says he wasn’t even home that night. He was… with someone else. So I just need to find this person and there is his alibi and acquittal, right?”
“I think it might be a little more difficult than that,” he says with a wink and a smile. Everything’s light and pleasant.
Sigh. “But it’s a start. I think things are going to be fine.” Right? Peachy keen? “I think, the only thing I’m worried about is the whole alien thing.”
“Yeah? What about it is worrying you?” I hear him ask.
Oh, you know, “the food, the special abilities, the evil aliens out to get me.”
The smile leaves his face. “What happened in the diner, Liz?”
What did happen in the diner? I’d forgotten all about it. Frown. “There was a man. He made it look like I had gotten shot. But I hadn’t. I was fine. He asked me to go with him. I said no. And he left.” I’ll leave out the part that he inferred that he would come back for me. Or that he knew exactly who I was.
His eyes stay downcast. “Can you describe him?”
“He was older. Wavy golden brown hair. Cold eyes.” Very cold eyes.
His head suddenly comes up. “No one can make you do anything that you don’t want to do.”
“Huh?” Where did this come from?
His stare is intense. “Even when it seems like you don’t have a choice, you do. Your life is yours to live how you please. Go to college. Get an apartment. Get a new life. Be normal again.”
Is that what he wants? For me to be normal? But what’s so great about normal? Those were his words to me back at what feels like so long ago. I don’t like where these conversations keep going. Because “it sounds a lot like… you don’t want me around you anymore.”
I watch him as he picks his words carefully. “If I could, I’d have you forever by my side. But-”
“No,” I interrupt, shaking my head. No ‘buts’. “Just leave it at that, Max.”
He nods. “How’s your sandwich?” He points to my still half uneaten lunch.
Shrug my shoulders. “Bland. There’s just peanut butter and jelly in it.” When Larek normally makes PB&J sandwiches for me, he adds something special to it to make it taste good. Max knows this. I bet Max’s sandwich is special. Mine was normal.
|| What’s so great about normal? ||
Not a damn thing.
--------------
We finished our lunch. We sat around some more. We ate some more. Watched the sunset. And then we left.
I want to go home.
There’s an awkward silence between us.
I spend the ride staring out my window.
It stays this way until we get closer to town and I can start to see the lights of the streets and buildings.
I let out a breath.
I never thought I’d be relieved to not be alone with Max, but I am. The day has just been… not what I expected.
We’re almost on the main road when Max swerves off, pulling off into the desert again, away from the street lights and into the dark.
He turns off the engine and he turns and looks at me. Looks at me like he hasn’t all day today, with the moonlight giving a shadowy light to his features.
I’m nervous. I’m anxious. I’m unsure. But I’m not scared. I mean, this is Max, right? He wouldn’t hurt me.
I watch his mouth open and shut a few times. I watch him shake off whatever’s going on and just blurt out words. “I want to show you everything about me. And I want to know everything there is to know about you.”
Nervous chuckle. “Um… my name is Elizabeth Phillips. I was, um, born in-”
His hand reaches out and touches my arm. I feel the spark, the warmth I only feel when he’s around me. “Not just that. I want to know everything. I want to hear your thoughts. I want to know you, every part of you.”
“Oh.” I let out a breath and a wry smile makes its way to my face because “I see where this is going.”
“Do you?” His gaze is as intense as ever.
“It’s not like… not like it’s a big deal.” I mean it is a big deal. But… “we have… done it twice before. I guess there’s no real reason why we should be… embarrassed or shy about it. I mean-”
“I’m not asking for sex.” There’s a derisiveness to the word. Like he’s upset that I would even suggest it. “I’m asking for something a lot more intimate.”
Wait… “what could be more intimate than intimacy?” I.e. sex. Or making love if you want to sugar it up.
“There’s a way… for me to…” he struggles with the explanation. He seems so distraught. “I could see inside you, if you’d let me.”
“… What are you asking, Max?”
“I want to connect with you.” He’s pleading. He’s holding onto me. “Sex is… it’s just a carnal thing. Connecting is… a whole other level.”
“Connecting?” Connection? Is this what Tess was talking about?
“I get to see you,” his words are rushing together. He seems frantic. “See what you’ve seen, know what you know, feel what you’ve felt, hear what you’ve thought. I get to know you.”
Know me? Through “my memories?”
He nods his head. “Essentially. Yes.”
Blink a few times. Sit back in my seat and stare straight, just trying to think over what all he’s trying to say. Connect? “What if there are some things that I don’t want you to see?”
His voice is soft. “Then you won’t let me see them.”
Deep breath. “How long does this last?”
“However long you want it to.” He’s trying to be understanding. He’s trying to be gentle.
“So it’s not permanent, is it?” Once he does this, connects, it’s not like he can’t take it back, right?
“No,” he shakes his head. “Not permanent.”
And then the questions start piling up in my head. “Is this common? Do people… connect like this often? Can anyone do it?”
“No,” he’s adamant. “It’s something I can do. Something you can only do with me.”
“So then you can just… see inside my head.” Know my every thought?
He leans back and he lets out a sigh. “Not if you don’t want me to. Remember, Liz, you never have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
It’s not that I outright just don’t want to do this. “It’s just that… I don’t understand exactly what you’re wanting. I don’t understand how this works.”
“I can show you.” He reaches his hand out and cups my cheek. “I can show you me.”
Wait… “you want to let me see inside your head?”
He nods his head and smiles softly, “I told you, I want to know you. And I want you to know me.”
Bite my lip and shake my head, because I just… “I don’t know.”
“Forget I asked.” He straightens up in his seat and turns on the engine. “I shouldn’t have anyway.” He swears under his breath. And we drive away. Back to town. Back to normal.
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Chapter Thirty Six:
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There’s a tickle in my ear. Then a poke at my side. Pressure on my nose. And then a pat on my cheek.
I twist and turn, but I keep my eyes closed.
Until the light comes on.
Groan and pull the blanket over my head.
It’s pulled off and the bed shifts. A whisper in my ear, “good morning, sunshine.”
Groan and try to cover my eyes. Not that I don’t enjoy the sound of his voice on any other occasion, it’s just that… I’m sleepy. “What time is it?” my voice comes out very croaky, like Kermit the frog, croaky, which is not exactly the sexiest thing in the world.
“A little past five.” His voice gets louder with each word.
Roll over with another groan. “Give me two more hours of sleep.”
“No,” I hear him say before I’m pulled back again.
Groan. Grumble. Kick. “But… Max… I need sleep to get me through school today.” I didn’t have enough energy to make it through all of yesterday. Without more sleep, god knows if I’ll make it through today.
I can feel his warm touch on me, trailing heat up and down my arm. It’s nice.
You know what else is nice? Sleep.
“Don’t go,” I hear him say. And my eyes open. Because there was something in the way he said it. Some kind of emotion underneath.
Stare into his eyes. They’re crowded with feelings. “What do you mean, Max?”
“Stay with me today.” He tries to cover it up with a smile. Doesn’t he know that I can see right through it? Like I know that he can see right through me?
Sit up on the bed. He watches me, but stays lying on the bed. I wait for it. I wait for him to tell me what’s wrong. To open up to me. For him to make the first move. Because I won’t push. But something’s wrong.
He laces his fingers together behind his head, shrugging nonchalantly, when nonchalance is hardly what’s swirling through him right now. “I just want to spend the whole day with you,” he says.
Shake my head. “There’s something else.” I feel it in him. I sense his turmoil. He’s upset, but he won’t say.
He swallows hard. “I just want to be with you, Liz.”
But his eyes tell me that there’s more to it. Eyes are the windows to the soul, you know. And Max’s eyes are beautiful. Beautiful and sad.
Sigh. “Do you remember, at the gas station, that day,” the day I tried to leave him. Tried, unsuccessfully. “And you asked me if I felt this pull towards you? And I said ‘no’?”
Watch him nod slowly before I keep going, “I lied.”
He nods again. He knew. He always knows.
My eyes stare down at the patterns on the bed sheet, because we’re having one of those awkward, honest, open your soul moments. And it’s mushy moments like these that I’m just not really good at. I wasn’t built to be like this. To need him. To lean on him. To love him.
Deep breath. “And everyone, Alex, Michael and Tess and them, they all wanted to know if I feel this… this connection to you. And I’ve always denied it. But… I was lying then too.”
He sits up. Fingers run along my cheek, down to my chin, lifting my head up and forcing me to look at him, to acknowledge him, to face this soul bearing moment head on.
Lick my lips. “See, th-the truth is… I feel you.” My throat closes up, my heart beats faster. “I feel this… this need to just… be around you, be with you.” My eyes drop again. And “I don’t know if that’s the connection they’re talking about. But… at first, when I first ever laid eyes on you, it was like a small nagging in the back of my mind. And it just kept building and building and now…” shake my head, “now, it’s so strong,” that it’s scaring me to death. Because I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with this feeling. Or how I’m supposed to act.
Arms pull me to him, fingers brush at my cheeks.
He lets me lean on him. He gives me comfort. And he lets me need him.
He pulls away, stares at me with his beautiful eyes, and jokes, “all this for just asking you to play hooky with me?”
Roll my eyes. And I’ve forgotten even the reason for my impromptu confession.
I don’t know if he even realizes the depth of what all I just said. Sigh. Well, if he won’t acknowledge it, I’m sure as hell not going to either.
Try to lie back down but Max stops me.
“Please, Liz?” I hear the heartbreak, the desperation, the earnest in his voice. “Just give me today.” Stare into his eyes and I think I even forget to breathe. “I need this.”
I nod my head.
There was no arguing with him. Not that I really tried. How could you deny someone when they put it in those words?
--------------
Thirty minutes later, I’m seated beside him on a blanket in the desert, my head on his shoulder and my hand in his.
It feels very much like a couple moment. Two people, together, watching the sunrise. Very romantic, right?
Yawn.
He gives my hand a squeeze, whispering to me, “you’re missing the best part.”
“Huh?” Open my eyes and yawn again. “I’m not missing it. I’m here, aren’t I?”
Smile cheekily up at him and I’m rewarded with a small grin and a touch to the cheek.
“Thank you for coming,” I hear him whisper and I snuggle in closer to him. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he asks.
And I have to wonder. “Do you have sunrises like this on your planet?”
“Yeah,” he nods his head. “Pretty sunrises and sunsets. I used to watch them all the time, but… none have ever felt as good as this one.”
I have to agree with him there. Something is just making this one exceptionally nice. Or rather, someone.
Look up at him. He looks so calm right now. So peaceful. So unlike how he’s been lately, with all that’s been up in the air. All the things that have been going on in his mind. All that’s been going on in mine.
He said he needed this. A day to just get away from it all. I think I needed this too.
Smile up at him while he stares off at the horizon. “So this is all you dragged me out here for?”
“Yup,” he says, without hesitation, without even looking my way.
Huh. “Well, then.” My smile widens with his.
He finally gives me a quick side glance. “Are you disappointed?”
Shake my head. “No.”
“Good.”
And our day went on like that. Max kept the conversation light and pleasant. We smiled. We laid with each other on the spread out blanket on the desert floor. We got to just enjoy each other’s company. A worry-free day. Because that’s what he wanted. And it’s what I needed.
“Thank you,” I say, hours later, with him lying on his back and me propped up with my head against his chest.
He gives me this quizzical look and I say, honestly and openly, “I like being with you, Max.”
And he nods his head but I can feel his breath catching.
Close my eyes and ignore it. Ignore that through all of my declarations and admissions of my adoration and affection of him, he has yet to acknowledge or reply back a word.
It’s funny, isn’t it? How before he was more than confident in his feelings toward me. And I was the one that kept denying mine. And now… I can’t even get a response out of him.
“What’s on your mind?” I hear him ask. He can feel the uncertainty in me, like I can feel his.
Roll over and lie on my stomach, watching him for any kind of reaction at all. “What’s been going on with you these past few days, Max?”
He keeps the light smile on his face, playing innocent. “What do you mean?”
Sigh. “I can… I can sense you. If that even makes sense. And you don’t feel right. Like something’s wrong.” Feels wrong.
I watch him close his eyes and he stays silent.
He’s been keeping the conversation light and pleasant. He won’t talk about anything serious, like what’s bugging him. And when I try to talk about it, he ignores me. I hate to push him. I hate to force him. But… if he won’t even talk to me…
Sigh. Stand up and walk away.
He’s behind me less than a minute later, gripping onto my arm until I stop walking, but I refuse to turn around.
He sighs and he pulls me into his arms. One arm goes around my waist, the other smoothing out my hair. “I love you, Liz. Don’t ever think that I don’t.”
I look at him then. “Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?”
“Because some times, things just don’t work out the way you want them to,” his voice is low and quiet and full of emotion. “And no matter how much I want it to be different, I have a responsibility to others. And my happiness is insignificant in comparison to their well-being.”
I stare. “What are you saying?”
“Nothing… everything… I…” there’s something in his voice. “I have to tell you something.”
And I wait for it. But it doesn’t come. “Are you going to tell me?”
“No.” And he walks back to where the blanket is.
I follow and call after him.
He stops walking and turns around, with a new attitude. A light and pleasant smile on his face. All seriousness gone. “Tomorrow. I’ll tell you tomorrow. Just let me have today, Liz.”
Sigh and shake my head. “You talk very cryptically, you know that?”
And he just keeps on smiling, pulling me closer to him again. “I love you, with every part of me. That’s all you need to know today.”
I give in and I give up. I don’t push it because “I love you too, Max.”
And that was it. I dropped it after that. After all, wasn’t it enough to know that he loves me?
--------------
“I’m thinking about getting an apartment,” I keep up light conversation while we eat the picnic lunch Max packed for us.
“Yeah?” and he just smiles. “I think it’s a good idea.”
“Well,” shrug my shoulders. “I’d have to pick where I want to go to college first.”
He’s still not looking at me. Just smiles while he eats his sandwich. “Good for you, Liz. Got any places in mind? Harvard? Yale?” Again with the light and pleasant smile.
Shake my head. “No. I was thinking of just going to UNM. University of New Mexico, you know. That way I’m only about a three hour drive away.” And he could come visit me, if he wanted.
He doesn’t say anything. He keeps eating his sandwich.
“And I have a car now,” I throw in. “Well, I haven’t driven it or really even looked at it. But I have one now, so I could come back and visit you, on the weekends.”
I wait for some type of response. Anything. Any sign that he doesn’t want me to go away. That he wants me to stay here. With him.
But all I get from him is a nod and another light smile.
Lower my eyes and take another bite of my sandwich. I think after that, I just kept talking for the sake of talking. Silence isn’t as comforting as it used to be.
I talked about my attempt at going back to school. I talked about learning to make mashed potatoes with Larek. I talked about my dad… “And… um… I think I’m making progress on my dad’s case. He says he wasn’t even home that night. He was… with someone else. So I just need to find this person and there is his alibi and acquittal, right?”
“I think it might be a little more difficult than that,” he says with a wink and a smile. Everything’s light and pleasant.
Sigh. “But it’s a start. I think things are going to be fine.” Right? Peachy keen? “I think, the only thing I’m worried about is the whole alien thing.”
“Yeah? What about it is worrying you?” I hear him ask.
Oh, you know, “the food, the special abilities, the evil aliens out to get me.”
The smile leaves his face. “What happened in the diner, Liz?”
What did happen in the diner? I’d forgotten all about it. Frown. “There was a man. He made it look like I had gotten shot. But I hadn’t. I was fine. He asked me to go with him. I said no. And he left.” I’ll leave out the part that he inferred that he would come back for me. Or that he knew exactly who I was.
His eyes stay downcast. “Can you describe him?”
“He was older. Wavy golden brown hair. Cold eyes.” Very cold eyes.
His head suddenly comes up. “No one can make you do anything that you don’t want to do.”
“Huh?” Where did this come from?
His stare is intense. “Even when it seems like you don’t have a choice, you do. Your life is yours to live how you please. Go to college. Get an apartment. Get a new life. Be normal again.”
Is that what he wants? For me to be normal? But what’s so great about normal? Those were his words to me back at what feels like so long ago. I don’t like where these conversations keep going. Because “it sounds a lot like… you don’t want me around you anymore.”
I watch him as he picks his words carefully. “If I could, I’d have you forever by my side. But-”
“No,” I interrupt, shaking my head. No ‘buts’. “Just leave it at that, Max.”
He nods. “How’s your sandwich?” He points to my still half uneaten lunch.
Shrug my shoulders. “Bland. There’s just peanut butter and jelly in it.” When Larek normally makes PB&J sandwiches for me, he adds something special to it to make it taste good. Max knows this. I bet Max’s sandwich is special. Mine was normal.
|| What’s so great about normal? ||
Not a damn thing.
--------------
We finished our lunch. We sat around some more. We ate some more. Watched the sunset. And then we left.
I want to go home.
There’s an awkward silence between us.
I spend the ride staring out my window.
It stays this way until we get closer to town and I can start to see the lights of the streets and buildings.
I let out a breath.
I never thought I’d be relieved to not be alone with Max, but I am. The day has just been… not what I expected.
We’re almost on the main road when Max swerves off, pulling off into the desert again, away from the street lights and into the dark.
He turns off the engine and he turns and looks at me. Looks at me like he hasn’t all day today, with the moonlight giving a shadowy light to his features.
I’m nervous. I’m anxious. I’m unsure. But I’m not scared. I mean, this is Max, right? He wouldn’t hurt me.
I watch his mouth open and shut a few times. I watch him shake off whatever’s going on and just blurt out words. “I want to show you everything about me. And I want to know everything there is to know about you.”
Nervous chuckle. “Um… my name is Elizabeth Phillips. I was, um, born in-”
His hand reaches out and touches my arm. I feel the spark, the warmth I only feel when he’s around me. “Not just that. I want to know everything. I want to hear your thoughts. I want to know you, every part of you.”
“Oh.” I let out a breath and a wry smile makes its way to my face because “I see where this is going.”
“Do you?” His gaze is as intense as ever.
“It’s not like… not like it’s a big deal.” I mean it is a big deal. But… “we have… done it twice before. I guess there’s no real reason why we should be… embarrassed or shy about it. I mean-”
“I’m not asking for sex.” There’s a derisiveness to the word. Like he’s upset that I would even suggest it. “I’m asking for something a lot more intimate.”
Wait… “what could be more intimate than intimacy?” I.e. sex. Or making love if you want to sugar it up.
“There’s a way… for me to…” he struggles with the explanation. He seems so distraught. “I could see inside you, if you’d let me.”
“… What are you asking, Max?”
“I want to connect with you.” He’s pleading. He’s holding onto me. “Sex is… it’s just a carnal thing. Connecting is… a whole other level.”
“Connecting?” Connection? Is this what Tess was talking about?
“I get to see you,” his words are rushing together. He seems frantic. “See what you’ve seen, know what you know, feel what you’ve felt, hear what you’ve thought. I get to know you.”
Know me? Through “my memories?”
He nods his head. “Essentially. Yes.”
Blink a few times. Sit back in my seat and stare straight, just trying to think over what all he’s trying to say. Connect? “What if there are some things that I don’t want you to see?”
His voice is soft. “Then you won’t let me see them.”
Deep breath. “How long does this last?”
“However long you want it to.” He’s trying to be understanding. He’s trying to be gentle.
“So it’s not permanent, is it?” Once he does this, connects, it’s not like he can’t take it back, right?
“No,” he shakes his head. “Not permanent.”
And then the questions start piling up in my head. “Is this common? Do people… connect like this often? Can anyone do it?”
“No,” he’s adamant. “It’s something I can do. Something you can only do with me.”
“So then you can just… see inside my head.” Know my every thought?
He leans back and he lets out a sigh. “Not if you don’t want me to. Remember, Liz, you never have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
It’s not that I outright just don’t want to do this. “It’s just that… I don’t understand exactly what you’re wanting. I don’t understand how this works.”
“I can show you.” He reaches his hand out and cups my cheek. “I can show you me.”
Wait… “you want to let me see inside your head?”
He nods his head and smiles softly, “I told you, I want to know you. And I want you to know me.”
Bite my lip and shake my head, because I just… “I don’t know.”
“Forget I asked.” He straightens up in his seat and turns on the engine. “I shouldn’t have anyway.” He swears under his breath. And we drive away. Back to town. Back to normal.
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Last edited by Evelynn on Sun Sep 17, 2006 10:06 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Chapter Thirty Seven:
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It’s dark and late and everything feels all weird and fuzzy. Not the warm fuzzies that are nice and comfy. The dizzying fuzzies that are nauseous and confusing.
He parked the car. Larek opened the door. He went straight into his study without a word. Leaving Larek and I in the kitchen to bond over drinks. Him with a weird purple tea concoction and me with my green milk. What makes the milk green? Don’t ask, don’t tell. That’s my new take on the whole food situation.
“So how was your day?” he asks.
Shrug my shoulders and I think an “eh” sound comes out of me.
“Not fun filled and romantic, then?” his eyebrows scrunch together.
Shake my head and stare into my tea. It’s awkward discussing my and Max’s relationship with him. It’s awkward for me to acknowledge the relationship to myself. Well, I mean, I live here, kind of. And I’m sure he knows all about Max and I spending the night in each other’s rooms sometimes. I mean, he makes our beds. But, still, just awkward.
But I guess it just fits with the awkwardness of the whole day. And how it felt like Max had something looming over his head the whole time. Awkward. Not to mention that “my sandwich tasted bland.”
He smiles and sips his tea. “Well, it’s the thought that counts, right?”
And I feel bad. I think it is time for me to get my own place. I think I’m getting too used to this butler thing. I’m taking Larek for granted. So I have to agree with him. “Yeah.” Smile. “It’s the thought that counts.”
“Well, how many girls do you know are fortunate enough to eat sandwiches made by the prince himself?”
Wait. “Max made the sandwiches?”
“Yes, he did.” Larek has a secret kind of smile on his face. “Painstakingly made them. He woke up very early this morning to pack the picnic too, I might add. And, seeing how he is privileged, he’s never cooked for himself before, ever. I’m surprised he even knows how to make sandwiches,” he adds with a look of astonishment. And somewhat… pride?
Max is privileged and I am fortunate.
Sigh and nod my head. If that’s what Larek thinks, fine.
Stand up and wish him good night before I head up to bed. It’s been a long day.
--------------
But it wasn’t over yet.
Because Max is still in his study. Larek is in the kitchen. And I’m standing at the top of the stairs with a decision to make.
His room or mine?
Both beds are equally large and equally comfy. But my bed smells like flowers and his bed smells like him.
But he didn’t really invite me into his room for the night. And with the weird mood he’s been in all day, do I really want to be there?
Sigh and hang my head. Drag my feet, open the door and head for his bed.
And not because I don’t feel like being alone right now. And not because he comforts me, and holds me, and makes me feel safe. But because it’s Max. And whether he’s moody or controlling, or confusing as hell, it’s better being with him than without.
I think it was about midnight when I got really tired. And towards one, I still couldn’t sleep.
Why?
Because there’s an evil alien out to impregnate me with his evil alien sperm. Alien sperm. Do aliens even have sperm? I know they’ve got all the right equipment going on down under… because, I’ve… well… I’ve kind of seen… … they just do. But sperm?
Oh, and my dad’s in jail for murdering my mom, but he says he didn’t do it and I believe him, even though I don’t want to acknowledge the fact that he says that his alibi is some woman he was having an affair with who is now dead. Oh, and I’m supposed to try to prove his innocence so that he’ll be let out of jail and we can be a happy family again… minus… my mom.
Yeah… so…
Look at the clock and it’s close to one thirty. Max still hasn’t come and I still can’t sleep. What’s the matter with me?
Evil aliens. Murder cases. And an absent Max.
I think it was close to two when I finally gave up, sucked in my pride and walked the empty steps down to his study.
The whole house was dark and quiet. Larek probably went off to bed. And the only light was the light shining under Max’s study door.
I knocked. Twice. He didn’t answer. So I opened the door. And there he was, sitting in his nice leather chair, behind his big desk, head in his arms, asleep.
I think it was another ten minutes before I walked over to the desk.
Normally, a sleeping Max is a calm and peaceful one. But his brows were still kind of scrunched together and you can still see all the traces of worry in his face.
Brush the hair hanging over his forehead and his eyes open.
He’s tired, worn down, and groggy. You can hear it in his voice. “Liz?”
Small smile. “Hi.”
His hand reaches up and rubs his forehead and his eyes open a little wider when he looks at me again. “Is something wrong?”
And this is when my throat closes up, my breath quickens, and I forget why I even came down here to begin with.
“Liz?” The concern is still in his eyes. He’s concerned because he cares. He cares because he loves. Right? Even if he’s been acting funny all day. Even if he’s still acting funny now? Because he’s here, in his study, sleeping. Instead of being upstairs, with me, sleeping?
“Liz?”
“Are you mad at me?” the words blurt out and I stare at him for any type of response at all. A smile, a frown, a muscle twitch, anything.
But he just stares back. It’s unnerving. A moment passes and I just stand there, awkwardly, before he licks his lips, leans back, and sighs, “come here.”
But I stay standing. “Is it because of the connection thing? Because if it really means that much to you-”
“No. No,” he shakes his head. “I’m not mad at you.”
“Then were you planning on sleeping here?” Because that’s what it looks like. And if he’s doing that, the odds are pretty good that he’s mad at me.
More awkward pausing and more staring before he asks, “were you waiting up for me?”
Shift from one foot to the other. “Maybe.” And if I was, does that make me seem desperate? Needy?
He stands up and he smiles. It seems genuine enough. “Let’s go to bed.”
He’s already walking to the door. He’s expecting me to follow. But I… “Max, wait.”
He pauses. He turns and looks at me, expectedly.
“This…” deep breath. “This whole thing, it just… it scares me. Because I don’t know what I’m getting myself into.” I don’t know what I should do or what’s going to happen. “But about what you were saying earlier, I do want to know you. And I want you to know me.” I just… it’s just…
“Liz,” he comes towards me and reaches for my hands. “I’m sorry I asked. You don’t have to-”
“But I want to, Max. I…” Grip on to his hands. I think the desperation’s starting to come out of me. But it wouldn’t be the first time. Because I need Max. Because something feels wrong right now. And I just… I don’t know what I’d do without him right now. “I want to feel what you feel, see what you see. I want us to be real. I want to be able to hold on to you.” For however long I can.
It’s funny because I think I’ve been more honest with him today than I’ve ever even been to myself. And yet he’s still just out of reach.
Another eternity passes while I just watch him watching me before he pulls me to him. “Come here.” And his arms go around me and things start to feel a little normal again. Well, as normal as it can be. And yet, something tells me I should be savoring this while I still can.
“I love you…” A kiss to my forehead. “Now and always.” He sighs and he squeezes me tighter. “But what tomorrow brings, it brings.” And he lets go. The just-out-of-reach feeling is there again. There was a time when his closeness made me uncomfortable. But not now. Now, I hate this keeping me at arms length thing. “You may not always like it. But acceptance makes it easier.”
And I want to cry. I want to hit him. I want to kiss him until he’s back to his old self again. Because his words, his actions, his eyes… they’re hinting like hell at something that seems like the end. “What are you trying to say to me?”
More staring. His eyes are saying something that his lips just won’t. “I don’t know. I don’t know.”
What? That’s not an answer. That’s just… “But…”
Another kiss to the forehead and he grabs my wrist and pulls me. “Let’s just go to bed.”
I give up. I’m tired. Confused. Worried.
And I’ll take whatever I can get from him.
--------------
The clock on his bedside table says three.
“Can’t sleep?” His voice is soft and throaty. But he sounds like he can’t sleep either.
Shake my head.
“Just close your eyes. And count sheep,” I can hear the smile in his voice. It sounds nice. And inviting.
Roll over to my side and face him. He’s staring at the ceiling with his eyes closed but the ends of his lips are turned up and the boyishness I love is back in his face.
Man, with the amount of mood swings this guy has, he should be a woman. A handsome woman with bulging biceps and a rough and tough exterior.
God, I love him.
His eyes open and he catches me ogling him. Turn away and his fingers catch my face. Small smile.
“I love you.” His voice is a whisper.
And his words replay in my head, I love you, but what tomorrow brings, it brings.
My smile’s all but gone. “What will tomorrow bring, Max?”
His eyes are closed. There’s sadness in him. He seems defeated. He’s quiet. What will tomorrow bring for you, Max? “Emptiness.”
Sit up. “What does that mean?” Why is he like this? What’s going on?
He opens his eyes and he watches me while I stare back, looking for something, anything. But all I get is more whispers, more sorrow. “Just forget, Liz.”
“Forget?” Forget what? That I’m here, in bed with him, beside him, and yet he’s miles away? That something heavy is weighing on his shoulders and it’s causing him to be this disheartened mess?
He sighs. He turns from me. He’s done. “Go to sleep.”
He’s done. But I’m not. Because “I want to know you.” I want to know what’s going on. I want to… I want to connect. I want this to be real. I want us to be real. I want to love him. And I want him to love me. “I’m ready now.” I’m ready to take this as far as I can to just be with him.
Am I being desperate? Am I being needy? Yes, damn it. Because it feels ominous. And it’s not a good feeling.
But he still won’t turn to me. He’s still just shutting me out. “You’re just tired.”
Squeeze my eyes shut. Am I tired? Yes. It’s tiring, feeling this way.
How can I get through to him? How can I get him to let me in?
Open my eyes and he’s sitting up, facing me, worry and guilt on his face. “Liz, I’m sorry.”
He’s sorry. He’s sorry. “What for?”
He doesn’t answer me. He just nods his head. And lays me down on the bed. He looks serious. He looks sad. He looks like he needs this too. Does he need me?
He lies down beside me. A sweet kiss. A gentle touch.
Both of his hands reach up to the sides of my face. He caresses my cheek. His eyes close. Mine do too. He’s warm. He’s tender. Loving.
Something clicks inside. It spreads all over me. Warm. Tingling. A sensation that makes me feel… whole. An onslaught, an overwhelming, overload of feelings, emotions, thoughts. I can feel him. I can feel me, inside him. So many swirls of affection, strength, devotion, weakness, love, sadness. An undecipherable avalanche of senses. A woman, a garden, blue, a man, a crown, a V of stars, glowing, dresses, understanding, uncertainty, fear, the moon, a bed, a girl, acceptance, content sorrow… me, attraction, doubt, affection, devotion, anger, panic, fear, love… sadness… me.
It stops.
I’m breathing hard. So is he. Stare at him and he stares back, with a blank face, but telling eyes. He’s not done. A song. Humming. Soothing. A voice. Max. I’m sorry Liz. I love you.
It stops. He’s done. A sweet kiss. My heart slows. My eyes shut.
Sleep.
--------------
“Miss Elizabeth, Miss Maria Deluca is here for you.”
Larek’s face wasn’t exactly the face I was hoping to wake up to in the morning.
Rub the sleep from my eyes and I’m still in his room, in his bed, alone. Stare up at Larek, “Maria?” Deluca? “What’s she doing here?”
He shrugs his shoulders and leaves, closing the door behind him. It’s a sign for me to get dressed and out of bed.
It’s what I do before I hit the stairs and come down to find Maria sitting in a stool in the kitchen, practically licking the last of her food off of her plate.
“My god, Larek.” Her eyes glaze over and she licks her lips. “I’ve got to come around here more often. My mom’s cooking compared to yours, mmm. No comparison.”
Larek just smiles. “Thank you, Miss Deluca. Let me clear that away for you.”
Larek grabs her plate while I take the stool next to her. She’s just leaning back with a smile. “A girl could get used to this.” I think she’s fantasizing about living here.
“So… Maria…”
“I’m here to take you to school,” she answers the question that I didn’t have to ask.
Larek holds out a plate to me. “Miss Elizabeth, will you not have breakfast first?”
“No time, Larek.” Maria tells him while she grabs the toast off the plate. “We’ve got to get a move on.”
To Larek’s concerned face, “that’s alright, Larek. I’ll grab something later.” He smiles and I follow Maria.
Try to stop her. “Let me grab my backpack.”
But she keeps walking. “You won’t need it.” And she pulls me out the door with Larek closing it behind us.
I don’t get it. How do I not need school supplies if I’m going to school? And why is Maria here to pick me up? “So, why are you here?”
“To take you to school,” she says and unlocks her car.
Get in and buckle my seatbelt. As a precaution. Just in case. Because Maria’s a crazy driver. And I know this even though Maria doesn’t usually drive me. Alex does. So “where’s Alex?”
“With Max.” She says it so simply.
Oh. Well, “where’s Max?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “Top secret his highness stuff. I know I rip on him all the time,” she starts up with her ranting. I think I’ve missed this. “But, you know, I don’t know if I could take it if Max wasn’t in charge. I mean, I’m too used to this kind of quiet self-rule thing. I don’t know if I could live under someone else. You know?”
No. “What?”
“So what’s up with you and Max?” she so discreetly changes the subject.
And since I don’t even know what the hell is going on with us, I can only answer, “huh?”
“You know,” she pushes.
We’re good. I guess. If you call last night good. How Max let me see inside him. Let me see myself through his eyes. Feel his passion, his devotion… to me. Yeah, it was good. “We’re good.”
“Good?” she smiles at me, “or good?”
And I can’t help the smile on my face. “We’re good.”
“Yeah?” she laughs.
Shake my head and watch while she turns onto a road leading away from the school. “Maria, where are we going?”
“Crashdown,” a secret smile on her face.
Okay? “What for?”
“Breakfast.”
Breakfast? “But didn’t you just…” I mean, at the house… Larek… food… “never mind.”
I think everyone’s just conspiring with me for me to not go to school ever again. Not that that’s that bad of a thing. I mean, do I really have to go to school today? Do I really need to? Do I even want to?
She parks her car and we get out, walking through the familiar doors and hearing the familiar bell jingle above us.
No, I don’t need to go to school today.
We take a seat in a booth and wait while Alex’s dad comes out from behind the counter. “Shouldn’t you girls be at school?”
Maria has a bright smile on her face. She’s batting her eyes and being cute. She’s sucking up big time. “Yeah. But the school year’s almost over and I have yet to miss a day this year, Mr. Whitman. It’s not like me and Liz couldn’t use a break. And you won’t tell if we miss just one class? Would you, Mr. Whitman?” She pouts her lip.
Roll my eyes.
He looks from her to me and back again before sighing, “no. Both of you girls work hard. You deserve a break.” And he smiles a smile as wide as Alex’s. “Two alien blasts on the house.”
Maria winks at me while we wait for our drinks.
Smile again because Maria had this all planned out, she did.
So after we got our drinks, I got to miss my first period of school to listen to Maria go on and on in gruesome detail of how she still thinks Michael’s a hippie, hates the way he talks, hates what he has to say, but likes the way he kisses and likes the way he does other detailed things that I’d rather have not heard about.
“Oh, Maria,” Mr. Whitman interrupts, and I’m glad he does. “You know, you’re my favorite little worker bee.”
She gives me this knowing look. “What is it, Mr. Whitman?”
“Well, now you know I don’t condone missing school,” he’s in father mode. “But it’s near nine o’clock and Agnes still hasn’t shown up. So I was wondering if, since you’ve already missed out of a class already, if you wouldn’t mind working today. Just through the lunch rush.”
Just through the lunch rush? The lunch rush ends around three, which leaves about half an hour until school lets out. Mr. Whitman’s asking her to play hooky. Mr. Whitman is bad.
Maria thinks about it. “Sure, Mr. Whitman. But no telling my mom, okay? She’ll have a cow.”
“Cross my heart.” Another Alex-like wide smile. And then he looks at me. “How about you, Liz?”
Smile sweetly. “Of course, Mr. Whitman. Anything to help you out.”
--------------
So three hours and two spills on my uniform later, Maria and I are bracing ourselves in anticipation of the lunch time rush that will last about three hours. Three long hours. Three long hours full of hustle and bustle and surprises.
And the biggest surprise of all walks right through the door.
“Is that Pam?” Maria’s staring. So am I.
Pam? What’s she doing here? I thought she went away… far, far away.
She walks in with grace, perfectly made up. In the short while she’s been gone, she’s grown up a lot. She’s as sophisticated as ever. Tall, and thin, and perfect.
And looking right at us. “Liz. Maria. Hi.” She gives us one of her perfect smiles. “Oh, um… this is um, Ava,” she motions to one of the girls with pink streaks in her hair. I hadn’t even realized she came with other people. I think the shock of seeing Pam just gave me tunnel vision. “And this is Serena,” she gestures to a tall girl with curly hair. “And this is Lannie,” Pam’s voice smiles when she points to the last girl, blonde and wearing a big hat and big sunglasses.
Pam looks at the girls, “and this is Liz and Maria,” she motions to each of us respectively. “I went to high school with them.”
“Oh, yay,” comes from the overly covered blonde, Lannie.
Insert awkward pause and then Maria speaks up, fake and smiling bright, doing her happy waitress bit, “well, why don’t you just grab a seat and Liz will be right with you.”
They walk to a booth and I look at Maria. “Me? They’re sitting in your section.”
“Come on, Liz,” Maria can whine like the best of them. “Please? I’m getting weird vibes from them.”
“Weird vibes?” Maria senses weird vibes so I have to go serve them? Does Maria not remember that Pam and I didn’t exactly get along? Or how I’m now currently dating, seeing, living, and in love with someone who kind of, sort of, used to be Pam’s? Apparently, Maria doesn’t remember because all she can do is pout her lip. “Fine.”
“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” She says it. But she doesn’t seem very grateful, handing me an order pad and pushing me towards their booth.
Sigh. Happy waitress. Bright smile. Pull out my pen. “Hi. What can I get you ladies today?”
The tall curly haired one doesn’t even look at me. “I’ll have a bottled water.”
The pink haired one doesn’t look at me either. “The same.”
The covered up blonde, Lannie, is beaming her pearly whites. “I’ll try the Crash special, please.” It’s crazy, the difference between this blondie and the others. The others just make this one seem even younger than her age. Because Lannie, at least, still has manners.
Jot it down on the order pad. “What kind of drink would you like with that?” I stop short of calling her sweetie. Man, I’ve been working here too long.
“I get a drink too?” Something tells me her eyes go wide, even though I can’t see them with her huge sunglasses in the way.
Smile sweetly back at her. “Um hmm.”
“Okay…” she thinks really hard. “I’ll have a… cherry coke.”
“I’ll just have an order of Saturn rings and a diet coke,” Pam orders her usual and smiles at me too.
Write it down and repeat it back to them, “okay, Saturn rings, diet coke, the Crash special with a cherry coke, and two bottled waters.” Another practiced smile. “I’ll be right out with your order.”
I walk away and breathe again.
Give the order to Mr. Whitman at the cook’s window and go behind the counter to get their drinks. “Maria, can you get me two bottled waters?”
She does this chuckle snort kind of thing. “Bottled water? Who ordered that?”
Raise an eyebrow at her. “Two guesses.”
She rolls her eyes and walks past me. “I’ll go get them from the back.”
I get the two other drinks and hand them to Maria to bring to the booth when she comes back out.
The phone rings.
Pick it up. “Crashdown Café. This is Liz, how can I help you?”
I hear breathing.
So I repeat, “Crashdown Café. How can I help you?”
More breathing.
“Hello?”
Dial tone.
“Who was that, Liz?” Mr. Whitman asks from in the kitchen.
“Wrong number.” He hands me the two orders and I head to Pam’s booth of four people, only to find three. “Weren’t there four of you?”
Pam’s still smiling. “Lannie had to-”
“She was called away,” the tall curly haired one answers for her.
“Oh.” Okay. Pity. She was the only one I could stand in the bunch. Not that Pam’s that bad or anything. Just the whole, she took Max’s virginity and so he will always remember and love her thing, kind of just makes me not like her so much. Bright smile. “Did you want me to go ahead and put her food in a doggie bag?”
“No,” the curly haired one answers again. “You may dispose of it.”
Bright smile and walk away. Hand the plate to Maria and head towards the back. “I’m going on a break.”
Go into the back, lean up against the lockers, and just take a breather. It didn’t last too long.
“Liz.”
Open my eyes and there, standing before me, is perfectly pretty “Pam.”
“So… um…” I’m guessing she can feel the awkward tension as well as I can. “Have you been taking care of him for me?”
Taking care of him for her? I don’t think he’s hers anymore for her to check in on. Because isn’t he my “Max?” We connected. He’s shown me things. Taught me things. Told me things. Given me things. Things that he says he’s never shared with anyone else.
Then why does it feel like Pam will always have a part of him that I will never have? Damn her. Why did she have to come back?
“Of course, Max,” she smiles again. I think she’s trying to be polite.
I don’t respond.
She sighs. “Look, Liz. Something big is going down.” I still stare at her and she continues. “He took me and the other girls back here to earth.” She doesn’t say who the ‘he’ is, but I’m pretty sure I can guess. “Something big is going down for him to take me too. I’m barely allowed to leave my room.”
Perfect pretty and popular Pam pressures pity into people.
I’m such a bitter person.
Stare at her again and something clicks in my head. “Pam, I don’t mean to pry.” That’s a lie. I do. I mean very much to pry. “But, weren’t you pregnant?” I mean, that’s what the talk was, right? That’s why she went away? Far, far away. Because she was pregnant with a baby. And it wasn’t Max’s.
Thank god.
You can see her face fill with emotion, even though she tries to hide it. “Miscarriage. Apparently, I wasn’t made to carry anyone else’s child but…”
Max’s. She doesn’t say it. And I’m glad she doesn’t. But she knows I know. Artificial insemination? Isn’t that what Alex said? That she was made for Max?
“So…” change the subject, “something big?”
“Yes,” she nods. And it seems like she’s glad I changed the subject too. Awkwardness. “Be careful, Liz. And… watch out for Max. Tell him to be careful too. I tried to tell him, but he wouldn’t listen to me.”
Wait… “you’ve talked to him?” To my Max?
“We…” there’s a pause while she thinks up the words, even though my self-deprecating mind is already filling in blanks. “We try to keep in touch.”
I have nothing to say to that.
She clears her throat. “I have to get back before the others wonder where I went to.” She turns towards the door and I stay where I’m at. But she looks back, “it’s good to see you again, Liz.”
I don’t go back out again until she leaves. Hopefully, Maria will understand why.
--------------
I left right after the dinner rush. Maria stayed until closing. It’s dark. I told her I got a ride from someone. I lied. I walked home. Well… I walked to Max’s home.
I won’t think about Pam. Pam’s been gone. Pam belongs to someone else now. Pam looks well taken care of and reasonable happy. She’s just back here to visit and that’s great. Vacationing. That’s all. Except that she said that something big is going down.
Sigh. Pam’s back. Pam’s here. And Khivar’s here. And Max is busy meeting with him. This can’t be good.
What will happen to Max? Will he be eliminated? So that Khivar can take over Earth? But Khivar’s already in control. Max said so. He wouldn’t have to physically do anything to Max, would he? Nothing will happen to Max. Will it?
Larek opens the door. I walk straight inside to the living room and pace.
“Is something wrong, Miss Elizabeth?” Larek sounds concerned.
I offer him a smile. “I’m just thinking. And waiting.” For Max.
He smiles back, but the concern is still there. “I’ll leave you to it then.” And he leaves to the kitchen to probably start dinner.
I can’t get his words to stop playing in my head, what tomorrow brings, it brings.
Max. Max is meeting with Khivar. Is this what he was talking about? Is this why he was so defeated? He’s meeting with Khivar. What’s he going to do?
I remember Max’s words from days before, Khivar thinks he took over. Max had looked ready to battle then. Is that what he’s doing now?
And what about last night? Was that just goodbye? Like I did to him?
God damn this!
Worry drives me mad. Worry drives me crazy.
And it’s weird, the tugs and the pulls and the connection that we have, because I think I feel him coming. Don’t ask me how I know. I just feel it.
I hear a car pull up in the driveway. Mad dash to the front door and open it up. “Max!” Not Max. “Alex? Where’s Max?”
Alex looks upset. Overly upset. Like I’ve never seen him like this before. “Max? He’s… preoccupied.”
My breath catches. “Did something bad happen?”
“I don’t know, Liz.” He has worried eyes filled with guilt and pity. Something did happen, but he just won’t say.
Shake my head. “Alex-”
“Come on, Liz.” He sighs. I hear defeat in his voice. “I’m supposed to take you away.”
Take me away? “Take me away to where?” He was told to take me away? By who?
His eyes keep apologizing to me. “I have orders-”
Shake my head. “I’m waiting here for Max. He’s coming.” I can feel it deep down inside. Tugs and pulls. It’s like he’s calling out to me. He’s coming. I know he is. “I can feel it.”
Alex blanks. “You can?”
Nod my head and we both see the headlights of a car drive up. Max’s car. I can hear the garage door opening and Max pulling his car inside.
“Let’s go, Liz,” Alex tries again, unsuccessfully. Because I need to see Max. I need to see for myself that he’s safe.
I stood outside the door to the garage for a couple of minutes before I give up on waiting. Something big is going down and I need to tell him. And I need him to tell me that everything is going to be okay.
Pull open the door and he’s standing right behind it, and he’s all in one piece. Sigh in relief.
Wrap my arms around him, expecting him to do the same… but he doesn’t... he stiffens.
Stare at Max, but I can hear Alex walking into the room.
And all Max does is look past me. “I thought I told you to take her away,” his voice is cold. He feels funny.
Stand up straight and stare up at him. But he won’t even look at me. “Max-”
“I was in the process of doing so,” Alex’s voice comes from behind me.
Max pushes me towards Alex. “Keep her safe.”
“Funny,” Alex snides. “I thought you stopped caring.”
“Alex,” Max’s tone is a warning threat.
“I’m gone. Come on, Liz.” And Alex heads towards the front door again.
But I don’t follow. I stay where I am, staring at him.
Disbelief. It’s all I can feel.
He ordered Alex to take me away? I don’t understand. Yesterday, I was the love of his life and now he’s kicking me out?
“What’s going on, Max?” my voice comes out cracked. I think I’m trying not to cry. I think my brain’s trying to compute all this, but it just won’t add up.
He says nothing. He stands there, cold, mean, and closed off. And he won’t even look at me.
“Don’t do this.” Please. I can’t handle this right now. Not from him.
The tears spill over.
But he finally looks at me.
And I see nothing. No more love in his face. No more affection in his eyes. He’s cold.
Turn away because I can’t take this. Not from him.
Two steps toward the front door.
“Liz.”
I spun so fast. I think I was just a little too hopeful. Too damn hopeful.
He reaches into the garage, and pulls something off the wall. He holds it out to me. “Your jacket.”
One step back toward him and I take it, purposefully touching his hand while I do. God, just give me something. Anything.
He flinches.
I turn. I leave. Hug the jacket to me.
The walk to Alex’s car was the longest walk I’ve ever taken. Walk into the darkness where Alex has the door open, waiting for me. He didn’t push me earlier, didn’t pull me with him out of the house because he knew I had to see for myself. That it’s over.
Get inside and Alex closes the door for me. He walks over to the driver’s side and gets in too.
“I’ll come by tomorrow and get your things,” he says. “You’ll come stay with me for now.”
Nod my head.
And I know I shouldn’t have. I know I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t stop myself from taking just one last look back.
In the darkness of the garage, I can still see him, the outline of his figure, standing at the passenger side of his car, opening the door and helping someone out. Squint and I think I can see who it is. I think I can take a wild fucking guess.
… “Alex?”
“Just don’t think about it, Liz.”
Don’t think about it? How can I fucking not? “Who is that? Who is that, Alex?”
“Just drop it, Liz.” He stares straight ahead.
“No. Tell me what’s going on.” Please, Alex?
He stays quiet.
Shake my head. “Alex, this is me, Liz.” I can trust him for anything. I can count on him when I need him. He’s never let me down. And I need him now.
He pauses. He struggles. But he gives in. “You’ve been replaced.”
“What?!” Replaced? Replaced?! What happened to loving me for always? What happened to there will never be another?! Bastard!
A headlight on a car we pass pops. Another car’s alarm goes off. Alex jumps. And I’m seething.
He hits the brakes and I’m grinding my teeth.
Replaced? Kicked out and tossed aside. Just like that? What the hell is going on?!
Alex stares at me. “Hold it in, I’ll take you somewhere.” He starts the car again.
--------------
“Arghh!!”
“That’s it. Just let it all out, Liz.” Alex is sitting a few feet away while I’m pacing around, popping rocks in the desert.
Replaced? Fucking replaced? Pam comes back… and I’m kicked out. Convenient, no?
She left… far, far away. And suddenly I’m showered with his affection. She comes back, and I’m thrown aside?
Shake my head and more rocks pop around me. I knew this was going to happen! I knew he would get tired of me. I warned myself. I pushed him away. And then what happens? He sucks me in and makes me love him just to toss me aside like this?
More rocks scattering and blowing around.
“I’m so stupid. I’m so…” I was almost believing, wholeheartedly, everything he was spoon feeding me. “I should have known better.” Everything in my head was telling me I should know better. “My life isn’t a fairy tale! I’m not a princess! And I don’t have a Prince Charming that comes in and sweeps me off my feet!”
Alex jumps up and the rock he’s sitting on cracks. He’s trying to calm me down. He’s trying to soothe me. “A lot of girls fall for Max. He is, as you say, literally, Prince Charming. But you’re different from those girls, Liz. You bounce back from aversion.”
Shake my head and stare down at nothingness. I can’t bounce back. Once your heart breaks, it stops bouncing. And I’m not different from those other girls. I fell. I fell hard. How could I not? “He swept me off my feet.”
The wind shifts the dust and it twirls around us.
I thought this was it. I thought this was my life. “I fell into it. I accepted it all.” I jumped into it head first. “Where do I belong now?”
“Come live with me again.” He reaches for my hand. But I can’t feel him. I can’t feel anything.
It starts to sprinkle.
“He told me he loved me and I believed him. He told me he loved me and I gave myself to him. He told me he loved me and I loved him right back.”
“Pull yourself together, Liz.” He puts my sweater around my shoulders. “Things will get better.”
Shake my head. “I was replaced.”
“You can’t be replaced,” Alex grinds out each word. “Look at this!” He goes crazy. He spins around in front of me, waving his arms around. “You’re controlling the weather, Liz! You think just anyone can do this?”
Shake my head. “I can only pop rocks.” It’s raining. “I’m not controlling this.”
He stops. He stands. He stares. He’s serious. “Then why aren’t you getting wet, Liz?”
Look up and watch the drops bounce around above me. But I don’t feel them. I don’t feel anything. Look towards Alex and the water comes down on me.
Close my eyes. “Leave me, Alex.”
He hesitates. “Liz-”
“Leave me!”
Lightning and thunder.
He backs off, nods his head. “I’ll be in the car when you’re ready.”
Close my eyes and drop to the ground. The rain comes down harder and I can feel it all. Cold and wet.
Where do I belong now?
I hear footsteps behind me. They come up slowly. But I don’t turn. A shadow. More rain. But I don’t feel the drops. Look up and an umbrella comes over her.
A man in a suit with wavy goldish brown hair and cold eyes. Eyes that don’t look as cold anymore, compared to what I’ve seen today.
Recognition jumps at me.
Santa Fe. The diner. It’s him.
“Hello, love.” He smiles.
Words replay in my head.
|| Just wait, love. You’ll change your mind soon enough. ||
He’s come back for me. He kept his promise.
Sad, small smile on my lips, “Khivar.”
-------------------------------------------------
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Chapter Thirty Seven:
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It’s dark and late and everything feels all weird and fuzzy. Not the warm fuzzies that are nice and comfy. The dizzying fuzzies that are nauseous and confusing.
He parked the car. Larek opened the door. He went straight into his study without a word. Leaving Larek and I in the kitchen to bond over drinks. Him with a weird purple tea concoction and me with my green milk. What makes the milk green? Don’t ask, don’t tell. That’s my new take on the whole food situation.
“So how was your day?” he asks.
Shrug my shoulders and I think an “eh” sound comes out of me.
“Not fun filled and romantic, then?” his eyebrows scrunch together.
Shake my head and stare into my tea. It’s awkward discussing my and Max’s relationship with him. It’s awkward for me to acknowledge the relationship to myself. Well, I mean, I live here, kind of. And I’m sure he knows all about Max and I spending the night in each other’s rooms sometimes. I mean, he makes our beds. But, still, just awkward.
But I guess it just fits with the awkwardness of the whole day. And how it felt like Max had something looming over his head the whole time. Awkward. Not to mention that “my sandwich tasted bland.”
He smiles and sips his tea. “Well, it’s the thought that counts, right?”
And I feel bad. I think it is time for me to get my own place. I think I’m getting too used to this butler thing. I’m taking Larek for granted. So I have to agree with him. “Yeah.” Smile. “It’s the thought that counts.”
“Well, how many girls do you know are fortunate enough to eat sandwiches made by the prince himself?”
Wait. “Max made the sandwiches?”
“Yes, he did.” Larek has a secret kind of smile on his face. “Painstakingly made them. He woke up very early this morning to pack the picnic too, I might add. And, seeing how he is privileged, he’s never cooked for himself before, ever. I’m surprised he even knows how to make sandwiches,” he adds with a look of astonishment. And somewhat… pride?
Max is privileged and I am fortunate.
Sigh and nod my head. If that’s what Larek thinks, fine.
Stand up and wish him good night before I head up to bed. It’s been a long day.
--------------
But it wasn’t over yet.
Because Max is still in his study. Larek is in the kitchen. And I’m standing at the top of the stairs with a decision to make.
His room or mine?
Both beds are equally large and equally comfy. But my bed smells like flowers and his bed smells like him.
But he didn’t really invite me into his room for the night. And with the weird mood he’s been in all day, do I really want to be there?
Sigh and hang my head. Drag my feet, open the door and head for his bed.
And not because I don’t feel like being alone right now. And not because he comforts me, and holds me, and makes me feel safe. But because it’s Max. And whether he’s moody or controlling, or confusing as hell, it’s better being with him than without.
I think it was about midnight when I got really tired. And towards one, I still couldn’t sleep.
Why?
Because there’s an evil alien out to impregnate me with his evil alien sperm. Alien sperm. Do aliens even have sperm? I know they’ve got all the right equipment going on down under… because, I’ve… well… I’ve kind of seen… … they just do. But sperm?
Oh, and my dad’s in jail for murdering my mom, but he says he didn’t do it and I believe him, even though I don’t want to acknowledge the fact that he says that his alibi is some woman he was having an affair with who is now dead. Oh, and I’m supposed to try to prove his innocence so that he’ll be let out of jail and we can be a happy family again… minus… my mom.
Yeah… so…
Look at the clock and it’s close to one thirty. Max still hasn’t come and I still can’t sleep. What’s the matter with me?
Evil aliens. Murder cases. And an absent Max.
I think it was close to two when I finally gave up, sucked in my pride and walked the empty steps down to his study.
The whole house was dark and quiet. Larek probably went off to bed. And the only light was the light shining under Max’s study door.
I knocked. Twice. He didn’t answer. So I opened the door. And there he was, sitting in his nice leather chair, behind his big desk, head in his arms, asleep.
I think it was another ten minutes before I walked over to the desk.
Normally, a sleeping Max is a calm and peaceful one. But his brows were still kind of scrunched together and you can still see all the traces of worry in his face.
Brush the hair hanging over his forehead and his eyes open.
He’s tired, worn down, and groggy. You can hear it in his voice. “Liz?”
Small smile. “Hi.”
His hand reaches up and rubs his forehead and his eyes open a little wider when he looks at me again. “Is something wrong?”
And this is when my throat closes up, my breath quickens, and I forget why I even came down here to begin with.
“Liz?” The concern is still in his eyes. He’s concerned because he cares. He cares because he loves. Right? Even if he’s been acting funny all day. Even if he’s still acting funny now? Because he’s here, in his study, sleeping. Instead of being upstairs, with me, sleeping?
“Liz?”
“Are you mad at me?” the words blurt out and I stare at him for any type of response at all. A smile, a frown, a muscle twitch, anything.
But he just stares back. It’s unnerving. A moment passes and I just stand there, awkwardly, before he licks his lips, leans back, and sighs, “come here.”
But I stay standing. “Is it because of the connection thing? Because if it really means that much to you-”
“No. No,” he shakes his head. “I’m not mad at you.”
“Then were you planning on sleeping here?” Because that’s what it looks like. And if he’s doing that, the odds are pretty good that he’s mad at me.
More awkward pausing and more staring before he asks, “were you waiting up for me?”
Shift from one foot to the other. “Maybe.” And if I was, does that make me seem desperate? Needy?
He stands up and he smiles. It seems genuine enough. “Let’s go to bed.”
He’s already walking to the door. He’s expecting me to follow. But I… “Max, wait.”
He pauses. He turns and looks at me, expectedly.
“This…” deep breath. “This whole thing, it just… it scares me. Because I don’t know what I’m getting myself into.” I don’t know what I should do or what’s going to happen. “But about what you were saying earlier, I do want to know you. And I want you to know me.” I just… it’s just…
“Liz,” he comes towards me and reaches for my hands. “I’m sorry I asked. You don’t have to-”
“But I want to, Max. I…” Grip on to his hands. I think the desperation’s starting to come out of me. But it wouldn’t be the first time. Because I need Max. Because something feels wrong right now. And I just… I don’t know what I’d do without him right now. “I want to feel what you feel, see what you see. I want us to be real. I want to be able to hold on to you.” For however long I can.
It’s funny because I think I’ve been more honest with him today than I’ve ever even been to myself. And yet he’s still just out of reach.
Another eternity passes while I just watch him watching me before he pulls me to him. “Come here.” And his arms go around me and things start to feel a little normal again. Well, as normal as it can be. And yet, something tells me I should be savoring this while I still can.
“I love you…” A kiss to my forehead. “Now and always.” He sighs and he squeezes me tighter. “But what tomorrow brings, it brings.” And he lets go. The just-out-of-reach feeling is there again. There was a time when his closeness made me uncomfortable. But not now. Now, I hate this keeping me at arms length thing. “You may not always like it. But acceptance makes it easier.”
And I want to cry. I want to hit him. I want to kiss him until he’s back to his old self again. Because his words, his actions, his eyes… they’re hinting like hell at something that seems like the end. “What are you trying to say to me?”
More staring. His eyes are saying something that his lips just won’t. “I don’t know. I don’t know.”
What? That’s not an answer. That’s just… “But…”
Another kiss to the forehead and he grabs my wrist and pulls me. “Let’s just go to bed.”
I give up. I’m tired. Confused. Worried.
And I’ll take whatever I can get from him.
--------------
The clock on his bedside table says three.
“Can’t sleep?” His voice is soft and throaty. But he sounds like he can’t sleep either.
Shake my head.
“Just close your eyes. And count sheep,” I can hear the smile in his voice. It sounds nice. And inviting.
Roll over to my side and face him. He’s staring at the ceiling with his eyes closed but the ends of his lips are turned up and the boyishness I love is back in his face.
Man, with the amount of mood swings this guy has, he should be a woman. A handsome woman with bulging biceps and a rough and tough exterior.
God, I love him.
His eyes open and he catches me ogling him. Turn away and his fingers catch my face. Small smile.
“I love you.” His voice is a whisper.
And his words replay in my head, I love you, but what tomorrow brings, it brings.
My smile’s all but gone. “What will tomorrow bring, Max?”
His eyes are closed. There’s sadness in him. He seems defeated. He’s quiet. What will tomorrow bring for you, Max? “Emptiness.”
Sit up. “What does that mean?” Why is he like this? What’s going on?
He opens his eyes and he watches me while I stare back, looking for something, anything. But all I get is more whispers, more sorrow. “Just forget, Liz.”
“Forget?” Forget what? That I’m here, in bed with him, beside him, and yet he’s miles away? That something heavy is weighing on his shoulders and it’s causing him to be this disheartened mess?
He sighs. He turns from me. He’s done. “Go to sleep.”
He’s done. But I’m not. Because “I want to know you.” I want to know what’s going on. I want to… I want to connect. I want this to be real. I want us to be real. I want to love him. And I want him to love me. “I’m ready now.” I’m ready to take this as far as I can to just be with him.
Am I being desperate? Am I being needy? Yes, damn it. Because it feels ominous. And it’s not a good feeling.
But he still won’t turn to me. He’s still just shutting me out. “You’re just tired.”
Squeeze my eyes shut. Am I tired? Yes. It’s tiring, feeling this way.
How can I get through to him? How can I get him to let me in?
Open my eyes and he’s sitting up, facing me, worry and guilt on his face. “Liz, I’m sorry.”
He’s sorry. He’s sorry. “What for?”
He doesn’t answer me. He just nods his head. And lays me down on the bed. He looks serious. He looks sad. He looks like he needs this too. Does he need me?
He lies down beside me. A sweet kiss. A gentle touch.
Both of his hands reach up to the sides of my face. He caresses my cheek. His eyes close. Mine do too. He’s warm. He’s tender. Loving.
Something clicks inside. It spreads all over me. Warm. Tingling. A sensation that makes me feel… whole. An onslaught, an overwhelming, overload of feelings, emotions, thoughts. I can feel him. I can feel me, inside him. So many swirls of affection, strength, devotion, weakness, love, sadness. An undecipherable avalanche of senses. A woman, a garden, blue, a man, a crown, a V of stars, glowing, dresses, understanding, uncertainty, fear, the moon, a bed, a girl, acceptance, content sorrow… me, attraction, doubt, affection, devotion, anger, panic, fear, love… sadness… me.
It stops.
I’m breathing hard. So is he. Stare at him and he stares back, with a blank face, but telling eyes. He’s not done. A song. Humming. Soothing. A voice. Max. I’m sorry Liz. I love you.
It stops. He’s done. A sweet kiss. My heart slows. My eyes shut.
Sleep.
--------------
“Miss Elizabeth, Miss Maria Deluca is here for you.”
Larek’s face wasn’t exactly the face I was hoping to wake up to in the morning.
Rub the sleep from my eyes and I’m still in his room, in his bed, alone. Stare up at Larek, “Maria?” Deluca? “What’s she doing here?”
He shrugs his shoulders and leaves, closing the door behind him. It’s a sign for me to get dressed and out of bed.
It’s what I do before I hit the stairs and come down to find Maria sitting in a stool in the kitchen, practically licking the last of her food off of her plate.
“My god, Larek.” Her eyes glaze over and she licks her lips. “I’ve got to come around here more often. My mom’s cooking compared to yours, mmm. No comparison.”
Larek just smiles. “Thank you, Miss Deluca. Let me clear that away for you.”
Larek grabs her plate while I take the stool next to her. She’s just leaning back with a smile. “A girl could get used to this.” I think she’s fantasizing about living here.
“So… Maria…”
“I’m here to take you to school,” she answers the question that I didn’t have to ask.
Larek holds out a plate to me. “Miss Elizabeth, will you not have breakfast first?”
“No time, Larek.” Maria tells him while she grabs the toast off the plate. “We’ve got to get a move on.”
To Larek’s concerned face, “that’s alright, Larek. I’ll grab something later.” He smiles and I follow Maria.
Try to stop her. “Let me grab my backpack.”
But she keeps walking. “You won’t need it.” And she pulls me out the door with Larek closing it behind us.
I don’t get it. How do I not need school supplies if I’m going to school? And why is Maria here to pick me up? “So, why are you here?”
“To take you to school,” she says and unlocks her car.
Get in and buckle my seatbelt. As a precaution. Just in case. Because Maria’s a crazy driver. And I know this even though Maria doesn’t usually drive me. Alex does. So “where’s Alex?”
“With Max.” She says it so simply.
Oh. Well, “where’s Max?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “Top secret his highness stuff. I know I rip on him all the time,” she starts up with her ranting. I think I’ve missed this. “But, you know, I don’t know if I could take it if Max wasn’t in charge. I mean, I’m too used to this kind of quiet self-rule thing. I don’t know if I could live under someone else. You know?”
No. “What?”
“So what’s up with you and Max?” she so discreetly changes the subject.
And since I don’t even know what the hell is going on with us, I can only answer, “huh?”
“You know,” she pushes.
We’re good. I guess. If you call last night good. How Max let me see inside him. Let me see myself through his eyes. Feel his passion, his devotion… to me. Yeah, it was good. “We’re good.”
“Good?” she smiles at me, “or good?”
And I can’t help the smile on my face. “We’re good.”
“Yeah?” she laughs.
Shake my head and watch while she turns onto a road leading away from the school. “Maria, where are we going?”
“Crashdown,” a secret smile on her face.
Okay? “What for?”
“Breakfast.”
Breakfast? “But didn’t you just…” I mean, at the house… Larek… food… “never mind.”
I think everyone’s just conspiring with me for me to not go to school ever again. Not that that’s that bad of a thing. I mean, do I really have to go to school today? Do I really need to? Do I even want to?
She parks her car and we get out, walking through the familiar doors and hearing the familiar bell jingle above us.
No, I don’t need to go to school today.
We take a seat in a booth and wait while Alex’s dad comes out from behind the counter. “Shouldn’t you girls be at school?”
Maria has a bright smile on her face. She’s batting her eyes and being cute. She’s sucking up big time. “Yeah. But the school year’s almost over and I have yet to miss a day this year, Mr. Whitman. It’s not like me and Liz couldn’t use a break. And you won’t tell if we miss just one class? Would you, Mr. Whitman?” She pouts her lip.
Roll my eyes.
He looks from her to me and back again before sighing, “no. Both of you girls work hard. You deserve a break.” And he smiles a smile as wide as Alex’s. “Two alien blasts on the house.”
Maria winks at me while we wait for our drinks.
Smile again because Maria had this all planned out, she did.
So after we got our drinks, I got to miss my first period of school to listen to Maria go on and on in gruesome detail of how she still thinks Michael’s a hippie, hates the way he talks, hates what he has to say, but likes the way he kisses and likes the way he does other detailed things that I’d rather have not heard about.
“Oh, Maria,” Mr. Whitman interrupts, and I’m glad he does. “You know, you’re my favorite little worker bee.”
She gives me this knowing look. “What is it, Mr. Whitman?”
“Well, now you know I don’t condone missing school,” he’s in father mode. “But it’s near nine o’clock and Agnes still hasn’t shown up. So I was wondering if, since you’ve already missed out of a class already, if you wouldn’t mind working today. Just through the lunch rush.”
Just through the lunch rush? The lunch rush ends around three, which leaves about half an hour until school lets out. Mr. Whitman’s asking her to play hooky. Mr. Whitman is bad.
Maria thinks about it. “Sure, Mr. Whitman. But no telling my mom, okay? She’ll have a cow.”
“Cross my heart.” Another Alex-like wide smile. And then he looks at me. “How about you, Liz?”
Smile sweetly. “Of course, Mr. Whitman. Anything to help you out.”
--------------
So three hours and two spills on my uniform later, Maria and I are bracing ourselves in anticipation of the lunch time rush that will last about three hours. Three long hours. Three long hours full of hustle and bustle and surprises.
And the biggest surprise of all walks right through the door.
“Is that Pam?” Maria’s staring. So am I.
Pam? What’s she doing here? I thought she went away… far, far away.
She walks in with grace, perfectly made up. In the short while she’s been gone, she’s grown up a lot. She’s as sophisticated as ever. Tall, and thin, and perfect.
And looking right at us. “Liz. Maria. Hi.” She gives us one of her perfect smiles. “Oh, um… this is um, Ava,” she motions to one of the girls with pink streaks in her hair. I hadn’t even realized she came with other people. I think the shock of seeing Pam just gave me tunnel vision. “And this is Serena,” she gestures to a tall girl with curly hair. “And this is Lannie,” Pam’s voice smiles when she points to the last girl, blonde and wearing a big hat and big sunglasses.
Pam looks at the girls, “and this is Liz and Maria,” she motions to each of us respectively. “I went to high school with them.”
“Oh, yay,” comes from the overly covered blonde, Lannie.
Insert awkward pause and then Maria speaks up, fake and smiling bright, doing her happy waitress bit, “well, why don’t you just grab a seat and Liz will be right with you.”
They walk to a booth and I look at Maria. “Me? They’re sitting in your section.”
“Come on, Liz,” Maria can whine like the best of them. “Please? I’m getting weird vibes from them.”
“Weird vibes?” Maria senses weird vibes so I have to go serve them? Does Maria not remember that Pam and I didn’t exactly get along? Or how I’m now currently dating, seeing, living, and in love with someone who kind of, sort of, used to be Pam’s? Apparently, Maria doesn’t remember because all she can do is pout her lip. “Fine.”
“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” She says it. But she doesn’t seem very grateful, handing me an order pad and pushing me towards their booth.
Sigh. Happy waitress. Bright smile. Pull out my pen. “Hi. What can I get you ladies today?”
The tall curly haired one doesn’t even look at me. “I’ll have a bottled water.”
The pink haired one doesn’t look at me either. “The same.”
The covered up blonde, Lannie, is beaming her pearly whites. “I’ll try the Crash special, please.” It’s crazy, the difference between this blondie and the others. The others just make this one seem even younger than her age. Because Lannie, at least, still has manners.
Jot it down on the order pad. “What kind of drink would you like with that?” I stop short of calling her sweetie. Man, I’ve been working here too long.
“I get a drink too?” Something tells me her eyes go wide, even though I can’t see them with her huge sunglasses in the way.
Smile sweetly back at her. “Um hmm.”
“Okay…” she thinks really hard. “I’ll have a… cherry coke.”
“I’ll just have an order of Saturn rings and a diet coke,” Pam orders her usual and smiles at me too.
Write it down and repeat it back to them, “okay, Saturn rings, diet coke, the Crash special with a cherry coke, and two bottled waters.” Another practiced smile. “I’ll be right out with your order.”
I walk away and breathe again.
Give the order to Mr. Whitman at the cook’s window and go behind the counter to get their drinks. “Maria, can you get me two bottled waters?”
She does this chuckle snort kind of thing. “Bottled water? Who ordered that?”
Raise an eyebrow at her. “Two guesses.”
She rolls her eyes and walks past me. “I’ll go get them from the back.”
I get the two other drinks and hand them to Maria to bring to the booth when she comes back out.
The phone rings.
Pick it up. “Crashdown Café. This is Liz, how can I help you?”
I hear breathing.
So I repeat, “Crashdown Café. How can I help you?”
More breathing.
“Hello?”
Dial tone.
“Who was that, Liz?” Mr. Whitman asks from in the kitchen.
“Wrong number.” He hands me the two orders and I head to Pam’s booth of four people, only to find three. “Weren’t there four of you?”
Pam’s still smiling. “Lannie had to-”
“She was called away,” the tall curly haired one answers for her.
“Oh.” Okay. Pity. She was the only one I could stand in the bunch. Not that Pam’s that bad or anything. Just the whole, she took Max’s virginity and so he will always remember and love her thing, kind of just makes me not like her so much. Bright smile. “Did you want me to go ahead and put her food in a doggie bag?”
“No,” the curly haired one answers again. “You may dispose of it.”
Bright smile and walk away. Hand the plate to Maria and head towards the back. “I’m going on a break.”
Go into the back, lean up against the lockers, and just take a breather. It didn’t last too long.
“Liz.”
Open my eyes and there, standing before me, is perfectly pretty “Pam.”
“So… um…” I’m guessing she can feel the awkward tension as well as I can. “Have you been taking care of him for me?”
Taking care of him for her? I don’t think he’s hers anymore for her to check in on. Because isn’t he my “Max?” We connected. He’s shown me things. Taught me things. Told me things. Given me things. Things that he says he’s never shared with anyone else.
Then why does it feel like Pam will always have a part of him that I will never have? Damn her. Why did she have to come back?
“Of course, Max,” she smiles again. I think she’s trying to be polite.
I don’t respond.
She sighs. “Look, Liz. Something big is going down.” I still stare at her and she continues. “He took me and the other girls back here to earth.” She doesn’t say who the ‘he’ is, but I’m pretty sure I can guess. “Something big is going down for him to take me too. I’m barely allowed to leave my room.”
Perfect pretty and popular Pam pressures pity into people.
I’m such a bitter person.
Stare at her again and something clicks in my head. “Pam, I don’t mean to pry.” That’s a lie. I do. I mean very much to pry. “But, weren’t you pregnant?” I mean, that’s what the talk was, right? That’s why she went away? Far, far away. Because she was pregnant with a baby. And it wasn’t Max’s.
Thank god.
You can see her face fill with emotion, even though she tries to hide it. “Miscarriage. Apparently, I wasn’t made to carry anyone else’s child but…”
Max’s. She doesn’t say it. And I’m glad she doesn’t. But she knows I know. Artificial insemination? Isn’t that what Alex said? That she was made for Max?
“So…” change the subject, “something big?”
“Yes,” she nods. And it seems like she’s glad I changed the subject too. Awkwardness. “Be careful, Liz. And… watch out for Max. Tell him to be careful too. I tried to tell him, but he wouldn’t listen to me.”
Wait… “you’ve talked to him?” To my Max?
“We…” there’s a pause while she thinks up the words, even though my self-deprecating mind is already filling in blanks. “We try to keep in touch.”
I have nothing to say to that.
She clears her throat. “I have to get back before the others wonder where I went to.” She turns towards the door and I stay where I’m at. But she looks back, “it’s good to see you again, Liz.”
I don’t go back out again until she leaves. Hopefully, Maria will understand why.
--------------
I left right after the dinner rush. Maria stayed until closing. It’s dark. I told her I got a ride from someone. I lied. I walked home. Well… I walked to Max’s home.
I won’t think about Pam. Pam’s been gone. Pam belongs to someone else now. Pam looks well taken care of and reasonable happy. She’s just back here to visit and that’s great. Vacationing. That’s all. Except that she said that something big is going down.
Sigh. Pam’s back. Pam’s here. And Khivar’s here. And Max is busy meeting with him. This can’t be good.
What will happen to Max? Will he be eliminated? So that Khivar can take over Earth? But Khivar’s already in control. Max said so. He wouldn’t have to physically do anything to Max, would he? Nothing will happen to Max. Will it?
Larek opens the door. I walk straight inside to the living room and pace.
“Is something wrong, Miss Elizabeth?” Larek sounds concerned.
I offer him a smile. “I’m just thinking. And waiting.” For Max.
He smiles back, but the concern is still there. “I’ll leave you to it then.” And he leaves to the kitchen to probably start dinner.
I can’t get his words to stop playing in my head, what tomorrow brings, it brings.
Max. Max is meeting with Khivar. Is this what he was talking about? Is this why he was so defeated? He’s meeting with Khivar. What’s he going to do?
I remember Max’s words from days before, Khivar thinks he took over. Max had looked ready to battle then. Is that what he’s doing now?
And what about last night? Was that just goodbye? Like I did to him?
God damn this!
Worry drives me mad. Worry drives me crazy.
And it’s weird, the tugs and the pulls and the connection that we have, because I think I feel him coming. Don’t ask me how I know. I just feel it.
I hear a car pull up in the driveway. Mad dash to the front door and open it up. “Max!” Not Max. “Alex? Where’s Max?”
Alex looks upset. Overly upset. Like I’ve never seen him like this before. “Max? He’s… preoccupied.”
My breath catches. “Did something bad happen?”
“I don’t know, Liz.” He has worried eyes filled with guilt and pity. Something did happen, but he just won’t say.
Shake my head. “Alex-”
“Come on, Liz.” He sighs. I hear defeat in his voice. “I’m supposed to take you away.”
Take me away? “Take me away to where?” He was told to take me away? By who?
His eyes keep apologizing to me. “I have orders-”
Shake my head. “I’m waiting here for Max. He’s coming.” I can feel it deep down inside. Tugs and pulls. It’s like he’s calling out to me. He’s coming. I know he is. “I can feel it.”
Alex blanks. “You can?”
Nod my head and we both see the headlights of a car drive up. Max’s car. I can hear the garage door opening and Max pulling his car inside.
“Let’s go, Liz,” Alex tries again, unsuccessfully. Because I need to see Max. I need to see for myself that he’s safe.
I stood outside the door to the garage for a couple of minutes before I give up on waiting. Something big is going down and I need to tell him. And I need him to tell me that everything is going to be okay.
Pull open the door and he’s standing right behind it, and he’s all in one piece. Sigh in relief.
Wrap my arms around him, expecting him to do the same… but he doesn’t... he stiffens.
Stare at Max, but I can hear Alex walking into the room.
And all Max does is look past me. “I thought I told you to take her away,” his voice is cold. He feels funny.
Stand up straight and stare up at him. But he won’t even look at me. “Max-”
“I was in the process of doing so,” Alex’s voice comes from behind me.
Max pushes me towards Alex. “Keep her safe.”
“Funny,” Alex snides. “I thought you stopped caring.”
“Alex,” Max’s tone is a warning threat.
“I’m gone. Come on, Liz.” And Alex heads towards the front door again.
But I don’t follow. I stay where I am, staring at him.
Disbelief. It’s all I can feel.
He ordered Alex to take me away? I don’t understand. Yesterday, I was the love of his life and now he’s kicking me out?
“What’s going on, Max?” my voice comes out cracked. I think I’m trying not to cry. I think my brain’s trying to compute all this, but it just won’t add up.
He says nothing. He stands there, cold, mean, and closed off. And he won’t even look at me.
“Don’t do this.” Please. I can’t handle this right now. Not from him.
The tears spill over.
But he finally looks at me.
And I see nothing. No more love in his face. No more affection in his eyes. He’s cold.
Turn away because I can’t take this. Not from him.
Two steps toward the front door.
“Liz.”
I spun so fast. I think I was just a little too hopeful. Too damn hopeful.
He reaches into the garage, and pulls something off the wall. He holds it out to me. “Your jacket.”
One step back toward him and I take it, purposefully touching his hand while I do. God, just give me something. Anything.
He flinches.
I turn. I leave. Hug the jacket to me.
The walk to Alex’s car was the longest walk I’ve ever taken. Walk into the darkness where Alex has the door open, waiting for me. He didn’t push me earlier, didn’t pull me with him out of the house because he knew I had to see for myself. That it’s over.
Get inside and Alex closes the door for me. He walks over to the driver’s side and gets in too.
“I’ll come by tomorrow and get your things,” he says. “You’ll come stay with me for now.”
Nod my head.
And I know I shouldn’t have. I know I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t stop myself from taking just one last look back.
In the darkness of the garage, I can still see him, the outline of his figure, standing at the passenger side of his car, opening the door and helping someone out. Squint and I think I can see who it is. I think I can take a wild fucking guess.
… “Alex?”
“Just don’t think about it, Liz.”
Don’t think about it? How can I fucking not? “Who is that? Who is that, Alex?”
“Just drop it, Liz.” He stares straight ahead.
“No. Tell me what’s going on.” Please, Alex?
He stays quiet.
Shake my head. “Alex, this is me, Liz.” I can trust him for anything. I can count on him when I need him. He’s never let me down. And I need him now.
He pauses. He struggles. But he gives in. “You’ve been replaced.”
“What?!” Replaced? Replaced?! What happened to loving me for always? What happened to there will never be another?! Bastard!
A headlight on a car we pass pops. Another car’s alarm goes off. Alex jumps. And I’m seething.
He hits the brakes and I’m grinding my teeth.
Replaced? Kicked out and tossed aside. Just like that? What the hell is going on?!
Alex stares at me. “Hold it in, I’ll take you somewhere.” He starts the car again.
--------------
“Arghh!!”
“That’s it. Just let it all out, Liz.” Alex is sitting a few feet away while I’m pacing around, popping rocks in the desert.
Replaced? Fucking replaced? Pam comes back… and I’m kicked out. Convenient, no?
She left… far, far away. And suddenly I’m showered with his affection. She comes back, and I’m thrown aside?
Shake my head and more rocks pop around me. I knew this was going to happen! I knew he would get tired of me. I warned myself. I pushed him away. And then what happens? He sucks me in and makes me love him just to toss me aside like this?
More rocks scattering and blowing around.
“I’m so stupid. I’m so…” I was almost believing, wholeheartedly, everything he was spoon feeding me. “I should have known better.” Everything in my head was telling me I should know better. “My life isn’t a fairy tale! I’m not a princess! And I don’t have a Prince Charming that comes in and sweeps me off my feet!”
Alex jumps up and the rock he’s sitting on cracks. He’s trying to calm me down. He’s trying to soothe me. “A lot of girls fall for Max. He is, as you say, literally, Prince Charming. But you’re different from those girls, Liz. You bounce back from aversion.”
Shake my head and stare down at nothingness. I can’t bounce back. Once your heart breaks, it stops bouncing. And I’m not different from those other girls. I fell. I fell hard. How could I not? “He swept me off my feet.”
The wind shifts the dust and it twirls around us.
I thought this was it. I thought this was my life. “I fell into it. I accepted it all.” I jumped into it head first. “Where do I belong now?”
“Come live with me again.” He reaches for my hand. But I can’t feel him. I can’t feel anything.
It starts to sprinkle.
“He told me he loved me and I believed him. He told me he loved me and I gave myself to him. He told me he loved me and I loved him right back.”
“Pull yourself together, Liz.” He puts my sweater around my shoulders. “Things will get better.”
Shake my head. “I was replaced.”
“You can’t be replaced,” Alex grinds out each word. “Look at this!” He goes crazy. He spins around in front of me, waving his arms around. “You’re controlling the weather, Liz! You think just anyone can do this?”
Shake my head. “I can only pop rocks.” It’s raining. “I’m not controlling this.”
He stops. He stands. He stares. He’s serious. “Then why aren’t you getting wet, Liz?”
Look up and watch the drops bounce around above me. But I don’t feel them. I don’t feel anything. Look towards Alex and the water comes down on me.
Close my eyes. “Leave me, Alex.”
He hesitates. “Liz-”
“Leave me!”
Lightning and thunder.
He backs off, nods his head. “I’ll be in the car when you’re ready.”
Close my eyes and drop to the ground. The rain comes down harder and I can feel it all. Cold and wet.
Where do I belong now?
I hear footsteps behind me. They come up slowly. But I don’t turn. A shadow. More rain. But I don’t feel the drops. Look up and an umbrella comes over her.
A man in a suit with wavy goldish brown hair and cold eyes. Eyes that don’t look as cold anymore, compared to what I’ve seen today.
Recognition jumps at me.
Santa Fe. The diner. It’s him.
“Hello, love.” He smiles.
Words replay in my head.
|| Just wait, love. You’ll change your mind soon enough. ||
He’s come back for me. He kept his promise.
Sad, small smile on my lips, “Khivar.”
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Last edited by Evelynn on Sun Sep 17, 2006 11:28 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Chapter Thirty Eight:
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“You seem in a chippery mood,” Maria says, passing me on her way back from the cook’s window, two plates in her hands.
Smile sweetly. “Why wouldn’t I be?” It’s not like an evil alien stomped my heart out or anything.
“Why, indeed.” She winks and serves the booth she’s working their food. When she comes back to the counter, where I’m filling drinks, she keeps talking. “Maybe because a certain someone is sitting in your section.”
“Now, Maria,” I taunt. I tease. I deny it like hell. “A customer is a customer, why should it upset me?”
She cocks her head to the side and stares at me like she does. “Maybe because they’ve been sitting there for twenty minutes and you still haven’t served them yet.”
Has it been twenty minutes? I swore it’s only been … Yeah, it’s been twenty minutes.
“You want me to get this one?” she asks this with a weird look on her face. I think it’s something akin to sympathy. I choose to ignore it.
“No,” shake my head and pull out my order pad. “I’ve got this one.” A customer is a customer, right? And being in the service oriented business, I must perform my duty in serving the masses their alien themed greasy, fattening food. “Welcome to the Crashown Café. What can I get for you today?”
“Hi, Liz.” She gives me one of her perfectly polite smiles that she’s been throwing my way. It’s like she’s even too perfect now to gloat. She won. She did.
Stare at my order pad and nod my head. “Pam.”
“Hi,” the other person in the booth speaks up. “I’m Lannie, remember me?”
Nod my head at the blondie from the other day.
“I was here last time,” she keeps explaining, “with my other sisters. But they’re not here today. They’re with Daddy. And Daddy’s making me stay-”
Sisters? Daddy? Pam and her are sisters? But … they’re like the same age. But then, wasn’t Pam … how did Kyle put it? Test tube baby? Whatever. I don’t care.
“Lannie,” Pam’s voice sounds threatening under her sugar-coatedness.
“Pam, why did you kick me?” Lannie whines.
Sigh. I don’t have to put up with this. I don’t want to put up with this right now. And I don’t care if my annoyance comes through because perfect Pam and that perfect jerk make the perfect fucking couple and I don’t want to stand here with nothing better to do than think how I could care less or if the thought kills me inside. “What can I get for you today?”
“Saturn rings,” says blondie one.
“I want ice cream,” says blonde two.
“You can’t just have ice cream,” blondie one tells blondie two. “You haven’t eaten anything yet.”
“But, I want it,” blondie two whines to blondie one.
I think I stopped listening after that. Because when I stop listening, I start thinking. And when I start thinking, I start drowning in my own pain. Ha ha?
“Lannie, have some fries or something first.”
“What are fries?”
“It’s something they have here on Earth. You’ll like it. I promise.”
“Okay.”
“So an order of Saturn rings and space fries, a diet coke for me and a cherry coke float for her.” Look up when Pam’s done ordering and she’s smiling at me with that polite smile again.
I want to hit her. Forced grin. “Okay. I’ll be right out with your order.”
And while I walk off, I can hear blondie two talking, “I liked the cherry coke.”
Indifference would work wonders right now. But indifference is a façade that’s so hard to manage in my current state.
Hang the order up at the cook’s window and I try to turn before I have to face his wrath, but Alex is far too quick for me.
“Liz, I forbid you from seeing him.” Alex tries to dictate my life.
But what he just doesn’t understand is that, “You don’t control me, Alex.” No one does. I don’t belong to anyone. At least, not anymore.
“What was that about?” Maria butts in, because, you know, she’s nosy like that.
“Nothing,” I lie and grab two cups to make the blondies’ drinks, glaring at the soda machine like I would have glared at Alex’s overbearing head.
But it wasn’t nothing. It was Khivar. Nothing happened. Really. I was grr. Alex took me to the desert. I popped rocks. Alex left. Khivar showed up. That’s it …
|| He just sat there with me. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t touch me or try to make me tell him what’s wrong. He didn’t push me into corners or lock me in rooms. He seemed content to just sit there … with me. And it meant the world.
But it wasn’t supposed to be that way. It wasn’t right. Because “you’re the enemy.” He tilted his head at me then and I had to try to explain my words. “Why are we sitting here together, when you’re the enemy?”
He smirked and I hated it. I hated it but I wouldn’t acknowledge why. I turned away and he finally spoke again, in his smooth, silky voice, “says who, love?”
I shrugged my shoulders. Said everyone. Said someone. Said “something inside me.”
And he just sat there, next to me. And we talked. About the weather. About Roswell. About nothing at all. We sat there until forever. Well, until Alex broke us up. ||
In my remembering stupor, I overfill the cup. It spills over to my hand and I have to wipe it off with a towel.
And that is why Alex is upset. Because while Alex pulled me away, Khivar just waved and told me he’d see me soon.
That comment didn’t make for a good car ride back …
|| “What the hell was that about?” he practically yelled at me.
But you know what? I didn’t care. I was far past caring. “What?”
“You’ll see him soon?” Alex looked at me wide-eyed and pointedly then, even though his eyes should have been on the road.
“Nothing,” I lied. It was easier that way.
He stared forward and then shook his head at me, his voice was low. “Don’t do this out of spite, Liz.”
And me, I denied it. Because that’s what I do. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t do this just to get back at Max. This isn’t like when you took Brad to the prom. This is Khivar you’re dealing with.”
It’s funny. Because it seemed so long ago, but it wasn’t. And at the time, I didn’t think I went to the prom with Brad out of spite. When I went to the eraser room with Brad, that was out of spite.
“Think this over, will you?” Alex said. Alex talked like an old man. Why that thought occurred to me at that time, I wasn’t quite sure. Maybe it was because I was tired of hearing his voice. Maybe it was because I was tired of hearing all together. Maybe it was because I wanted to start playing the denial game again. Because it was safer there, tucked away in the folds of my mind.
“I know what I’m doing, Alex.” That was a lie too. Huge, massive lie. I didn’t know if I was coming or going, let alone what the hell I was doing.
“This isn’t you playing with fire. This is you fucking with dynamite. Okay?” Alex just kept trying to rationalize. Alex kept going with these funny analogies. As if funny analogies would help.
Because I stopped listening a long time ago. “You don’t control me, Alex. No one does.” ||
And that was when it started, me telling Alex over and over again all the way into the next day, that he didn’t control me. That no one controlled me. I won’t be this puppet that will sing and dance on cue. They’ve broken me too many times for that.
“Liz, are you okay?” Maria comes over.
And I give her the ‘of course I’m okay, why wouldn’t I be okay’ smile. She points to the cup. Stare down at it. In my daze, I seemed to have filled the entire cup with ice cream. Silly me. Dump the cup and start over. Just one scoop this time.
“You know,” she grabs two straws and hands them to me, “maybe we should go out and do something after work. Go see a movie or something to get your mind off of everything.”
“I’ve got plans, Maria.” Smile brightly. Yet another lie escapes me. They come out easy, they do.
Walk over to their booth and put their drinks on the table before I head for the break room. Lie down on the couch inside and close my eyes.
My day hasn’t been so bad, has it? …
|| I was more than welcome to live back at the Whitman residence. And Alex wouldn’t let me stay anywhere else. Not that I had any other options. The bed was pink. The comforter was soft. Everything was great. Nice. Lovely. And when I woke up in the morning, all my things were in the living room. Suitcase, clothes, backpack … everything. Everything that was mine. It’s like I never left.
I guess … I don’t know why I decided to do it. I guess I did it because I wanted to forget. Maybe I just wanted to pretend that this whole thing just … … I think I just wanted to return to normal again. And forget.
I guess that’s why I returned to the halls of West Roswell High. I should have known better. Maria during first period started it all.
“Liz, you’re back!” she was wide-eyed. “I figured you just wouldn’t come back to school. I mean, we’re a few weeks shy of graduating. If my grades were like yours, I’d spend these last few days sleeping.” She talked a lot. The entire class period, actually. “So, where are you going to college?”
And I went, “College?”
“You haven’t applied anywhere?” she made a face then.
I shook my head.
“I’m applying to UNM. I’m hoping to go into the nursing program there. You should come with me. I’ve got an extra application.” She shoved the packet at me then.
I left it on the table and moved onto second period, with Kyle ‘The Mighty Comet’ Valenti.
“Hello, Liz Parker.” He sat in the seat in front of me. “How are you?”
“I’m fine.” That was a lie.
“Can I ask you a question, Liz Parker?” he doesn’t wait for me to answer. “What do you want to do when you grow up?”
When I grow up? I’ll be damned if I knew. I shrugged then … I think.
“Well, you should really think about it, Liz Parker. It’s kind of a really important decision. Don’t you want to get out of Roswell and make something of yourself?
Sure. “I guess.” Another lie.
“That’s good, Liz Parker. That’s good.” He turned around then and I ignored him through the rest of second period.
I sat by myself come lunch time, with my nifty little water bottle. But I should have known better. Because from all the talk going on, from the gossip mill running rampant, from the whispers running wild, I should have know. I should have. But I guess I just didn’t want to see it, until it stared me straight in the face. Or rather, she.
“Liz.” She gave me more of her polite smiles.
Pam. I hate her.
“So…”
“Pam,” I wanted to shove her, I wanted to hit her, I wanted to do something to just get her the hell away from me. “What are you doing here?”
“Eating lunch,” she answered with another smile. “And finishing out my senior year of high school.” She lifted up her brown sack then.
“Why?” Why, of all the places to eat and sit had she picked the spot next to me? “I thought your future was already mapped out for you.” Perfect Pam and that perfect jerk make the perfect couple. Bitterness.
“Well …” her polite smile was strained. “Things happen. Khivar doesn’t … and Max … Well …”
“I don’t want to hear it.” I didn’t want to hear it. And I didn’t have to listen. That’s why I stood up then.
But she stood up with me. “Liz, you have no idea what’s going on right now, do you?”
“I don’t want to know. It’s none of my business anymore.” I could care less. Or break down from all the grr-ness inside me. Yeah, I was very bitter.
“Nothing is at all as it seems.”
But I didn’t hear her. “Leave me alone, Pam.”
And then I moved onto fourth period. Chemistry. The jerk’s table was empty. Not that I had really noticed or anything. I just … I sat down on my usual stool.
“Hi Liz. Welcome back.”
I nodded my reply to Tess and waited for the talk to come. It didn’t. So I asked her, “That’s it?”
“Yeah.” She made a face and got absorbed into her magazine then.
“Hey Liz.” The words came unforeseeingly from the hippie.
“Michael.” I dumbed down my words. “Look, I’ve already had Maria, Kyle, Pam, and Alex-”
“I think they’re all full of shit. They shouldn’t be telling you what to do. I think you’re old enough to know what’s right for you.”
He shocked me with that. I was about to grow a new respect for Michael, but then he kept talking. “And you’re not stupid enough to go to Khivar.” ||
I hear a noise. Open my eyes and Alex is standing before me. “I’ve been calling you forever,” he says.
Sit up. “Oh. What for?”
He gives me a look that says that I’m dumb. “You know … you clip the order up, I cook it, you serve it … Work.”
“Oh.” Work. Yeah. “Oh.” The booth of blondes and their food.
“Maria took it to them,” he says and he keeps standing there. “I wanted to talk to you.”
It’s funny. He’s been wanting to talk to me all day. “I have to work, Alex.” That’s a lie. There’s no one other than the blondes in my section. And Maria can handle that.
“Liz, I’m begging you. Please don’t meet up with Khivar. He’s bad. His intentions, his thoughts, his actions, all bad. Everything about him is bad.”
Roll my eyes.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me. I’m serious here. Can’t you see that this is exactly what he wants? You’re hurt because of Max. And Khivar just shows up to shower you with affection. And you’re falling for it.”
I just stare back.
“You’re smarter than this, Liz,” his voice gets quiet. “We all care about you. And none of us want this for you. We want you to have your life back again. We want you to be normal again.”
Blank stare.
He grins his sad Alex grin, shaking his head. “You’re not hearing a word that I’m saying.”
Smile back. Alex gets it. He knows. I’ve stopped listening a lot time ago.
He leaves back to his duty behind the grill. And I’m left alone again. For about a minute until the door out to the front area opens.
She smiles at me with all her blonde hair and white teeth. It’s not that I don’t like her. It’s that I don’t like the person she’s with.
“Liz, Liz, Liz, Liz …” she shuffles up to me. “I’m supposed to give you this.” She hands me this folded up piece of notebook paper.
Aww … look at that, we’re passing notes like we’re best friends.
Bitter. Bitter. Bitter.
“Shh … it’s a secret,” she seems giddy. “Pam doesn’t know.” And she giggles and leaves out through the door from which she came.
Open up the piece of paper:
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Balcony. 2 am.
I need to talk to you. Please.
Max
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I’m not quite sure what I did after that. I think I stopped thinking. I think I went into autodrive. I think I did my damned hardest to lock my vulnerable self into a box buried deep in my head, where there’s lots of padding everywhere.
Two A.M. He needs to talk to me.
“Maria,” I was standing in front of her before I knew it.
“Yeah?” she has that funny look on her face still.
I have no clue why the words that came through my lips were even said. It was the autopilot talking, not me. “Let’s have a sleep over.”
She answers me with a three letter word that’s supposed to encompass it all, “Fun.”
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I close up hours later. It was a slower day than usual. Maria left early. She had a date with Michael. Alex left early too. He had a date with Isabel. So I was left to lock up. Alone.
Autopilot. I keyed out the register. I put up the chairs. I mopped the floor. I refilled the ketchup bottles. I did all that stuff. And then I headed upstairs.
Mr. and Mrs. Whitman were out … on a date. So I had the entire apartment to myself. Alone. Pull out my backpack and throw a few articles of clothing in, before zipping it up. After all, slumber party, eleven thirty, Maria’s place.
After that, I had nothing else to do but lie down on the pink pastel sheets and stare at the ceiling with its glow in the dark stars stuck everywhere. Alex and Maria took off at eight thirty. I closed up early at nine thirty. I finished the closing up process and headed upstairs by ten.
… It hit me at ten thirteen… the pain… It was earth shattering… and I never saw it coming.
It’s been twenty four hours since it happened. And I thought what I had gone through in that time period had been bad. All the bitterness, all the anger and hatred, hurt and frustration, was nothing compared to what I am feeling now.
The sad desolation. The emptiness. The hole in my heart that just opens up and swallows me … and … I just … I’m alone now.
All the affection … all the emotions I tried to give him was just tossed aside like it meant nothing. And I was resigned to happily do nothing more than just be there for him. Be with him. Love him.
... But I wasn’t good enough for him. I was never good enough for anyone …
Heartache. Now I know what all those stupid songs were singing about. I know the emotion … the devastation behind it all. And it sucks so damn much that it racks my soul and I can’t even breathe …
But I can’t stop thinking about him. I can’t stop seeing his smile, remembering his touch … I can’t stop. I want to. I want to stop thinking. I want to stop feeling. The pain.
He haunts me … I hate him. I hate him with all that I have because of what he did to me … what he’s still putting me through right now. He broke me and there’s not enough glue in the world for me to even try to put myself back together.
The tears that come with the pain only make it hurt more. Each salty stain on the outside that lands on my pillow is a stab on the inside that bleeds through.
He’s a fucking bastard. He just toyed with me and threw me away when he got bored … he used me and he abused me and he screwed with my life and my head and my heart like I meant nothing to him.
So then why can’t I stop loving him like he’s my everything?
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Chapter Thirty Eight:
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“You seem in a chippery mood,” Maria says, passing me on her way back from the cook’s window, two plates in her hands.
Smile sweetly. “Why wouldn’t I be?” It’s not like an evil alien stomped my heart out or anything.
“Why, indeed.” She winks and serves the booth she’s working their food. When she comes back to the counter, where I’m filling drinks, she keeps talking. “Maybe because a certain someone is sitting in your section.”
“Now, Maria,” I taunt. I tease. I deny it like hell. “A customer is a customer, why should it upset me?”
She cocks her head to the side and stares at me like she does. “Maybe because they’ve been sitting there for twenty minutes and you still haven’t served them yet.”
Has it been twenty minutes? I swore it’s only been … Yeah, it’s been twenty minutes.
“You want me to get this one?” she asks this with a weird look on her face. I think it’s something akin to sympathy. I choose to ignore it.
“No,” shake my head and pull out my order pad. “I’ve got this one.” A customer is a customer, right? And being in the service oriented business, I must perform my duty in serving the masses their alien themed greasy, fattening food. “Welcome to the Crashown Café. What can I get for you today?”
“Hi, Liz.” She gives me one of her perfectly polite smiles that she’s been throwing my way. It’s like she’s even too perfect now to gloat. She won. She did.
Stare at my order pad and nod my head. “Pam.”
“Hi,” the other person in the booth speaks up. “I’m Lannie, remember me?”
Nod my head at the blondie from the other day.
“I was here last time,” she keeps explaining, “with my other sisters. But they’re not here today. They’re with Daddy. And Daddy’s making me stay-”
Sisters? Daddy? Pam and her are sisters? But … they’re like the same age. But then, wasn’t Pam … how did Kyle put it? Test tube baby? Whatever. I don’t care.
“Lannie,” Pam’s voice sounds threatening under her sugar-coatedness.
“Pam, why did you kick me?” Lannie whines.
Sigh. I don’t have to put up with this. I don’t want to put up with this right now. And I don’t care if my annoyance comes through because perfect Pam and that perfect jerk make the perfect fucking couple and I don’t want to stand here with nothing better to do than think how I could care less or if the thought kills me inside. “What can I get for you today?”
“Saturn rings,” says blondie one.
“I want ice cream,” says blonde two.
“You can’t just have ice cream,” blondie one tells blondie two. “You haven’t eaten anything yet.”
“But, I want it,” blondie two whines to blondie one.
I think I stopped listening after that. Because when I stop listening, I start thinking. And when I start thinking, I start drowning in my own pain. Ha ha?
“Lannie, have some fries or something first.”
“What are fries?”
“It’s something they have here on Earth. You’ll like it. I promise.”
“Okay.”
“So an order of Saturn rings and space fries, a diet coke for me and a cherry coke float for her.” Look up when Pam’s done ordering and she’s smiling at me with that polite smile again.
I want to hit her. Forced grin. “Okay. I’ll be right out with your order.”
And while I walk off, I can hear blondie two talking, “I liked the cherry coke.”
Indifference would work wonders right now. But indifference is a façade that’s so hard to manage in my current state.
Hang the order up at the cook’s window and I try to turn before I have to face his wrath, but Alex is far too quick for me.
“Liz, I forbid you from seeing him.” Alex tries to dictate my life.
But what he just doesn’t understand is that, “You don’t control me, Alex.” No one does. I don’t belong to anyone. At least, not anymore.
“What was that about?” Maria butts in, because, you know, she’s nosy like that.
“Nothing,” I lie and grab two cups to make the blondies’ drinks, glaring at the soda machine like I would have glared at Alex’s overbearing head.
But it wasn’t nothing. It was Khivar. Nothing happened. Really. I was grr. Alex took me to the desert. I popped rocks. Alex left. Khivar showed up. That’s it …
|| He just sat there with me. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t touch me or try to make me tell him what’s wrong. He didn’t push me into corners or lock me in rooms. He seemed content to just sit there … with me. And it meant the world.
But it wasn’t supposed to be that way. It wasn’t right. Because “you’re the enemy.” He tilted his head at me then and I had to try to explain my words. “Why are we sitting here together, when you’re the enemy?”
He smirked and I hated it. I hated it but I wouldn’t acknowledge why. I turned away and he finally spoke again, in his smooth, silky voice, “says who, love?”
I shrugged my shoulders. Said everyone. Said someone. Said “something inside me.”
And he just sat there, next to me. And we talked. About the weather. About Roswell. About nothing at all. We sat there until forever. Well, until Alex broke us up. ||
In my remembering stupor, I overfill the cup. It spills over to my hand and I have to wipe it off with a towel.
And that is why Alex is upset. Because while Alex pulled me away, Khivar just waved and told me he’d see me soon.
That comment didn’t make for a good car ride back …
|| “What the hell was that about?” he practically yelled at me.
But you know what? I didn’t care. I was far past caring. “What?”
“You’ll see him soon?” Alex looked at me wide-eyed and pointedly then, even though his eyes should have been on the road.
“Nothing,” I lied. It was easier that way.
He stared forward and then shook his head at me, his voice was low. “Don’t do this out of spite, Liz.”
And me, I denied it. Because that’s what I do. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t do this just to get back at Max. This isn’t like when you took Brad to the prom. This is Khivar you’re dealing with.”
It’s funny. Because it seemed so long ago, but it wasn’t. And at the time, I didn’t think I went to the prom with Brad out of spite. When I went to the eraser room with Brad, that was out of spite.
“Think this over, will you?” Alex said. Alex talked like an old man. Why that thought occurred to me at that time, I wasn’t quite sure. Maybe it was because I was tired of hearing his voice. Maybe it was because I was tired of hearing all together. Maybe it was because I wanted to start playing the denial game again. Because it was safer there, tucked away in the folds of my mind.
“I know what I’m doing, Alex.” That was a lie too. Huge, massive lie. I didn’t know if I was coming or going, let alone what the hell I was doing.
“This isn’t you playing with fire. This is you fucking with dynamite. Okay?” Alex just kept trying to rationalize. Alex kept going with these funny analogies. As if funny analogies would help.
Because I stopped listening a long time ago. “You don’t control me, Alex. No one does.” ||
And that was when it started, me telling Alex over and over again all the way into the next day, that he didn’t control me. That no one controlled me. I won’t be this puppet that will sing and dance on cue. They’ve broken me too many times for that.
“Liz, are you okay?” Maria comes over.
And I give her the ‘of course I’m okay, why wouldn’t I be okay’ smile. She points to the cup. Stare down at it. In my daze, I seemed to have filled the entire cup with ice cream. Silly me. Dump the cup and start over. Just one scoop this time.
“You know,” she grabs two straws and hands them to me, “maybe we should go out and do something after work. Go see a movie or something to get your mind off of everything.”
“I’ve got plans, Maria.” Smile brightly. Yet another lie escapes me. They come out easy, they do.
Walk over to their booth and put their drinks on the table before I head for the break room. Lie down on the couch inside and close my eyes.
My day hasn’t been so bad, has it? …
|| I was more than welcome to live back at the Whitman residence. And Alex wouldn’t let me stay anywhere else. Not that I had any other options. The bed was pink. The comforter was soft. Everything was great. Nice. Lovely. And when I woke up in the morning, all my things were in the living room. Suitcase, clothes, backpack … everything. Everything that was mine. It’s like I never left.
I guess … I don’t know why I decided to do it. I guess I did it because I wanted to forget. Maybe I just wanted to pretend that this whole thing just … … I think I just wanted to return to normal again. And forget.
I guess that’s why I returned to the halls of West Roswell High. I should have known better. Maria during first period started it all.
“Liz, you’re back!” she was wide-eyed. “I figured you just wouldn’t come back to school. I mean, we’re a few weeks shy of graduating. If my grades were like yours, I’d spend these last few days sleeping.” She talked a lot. The entire class period, actually. “So, where are you going to college?”
And I went, “College?”
“You haven’t applied anywhere?” she made a face then.
I shook my head.
“I’m applying to UNM. I’m hoping to go into the nursing program there. You should come with me. I’ve got an extra application.” She shoved the packet at me then.
I left it on the table and moved onto second period, with Kyle ‘The Mighty Comet’ Valenti.
“Hello, Liz Parker.” He sat in the seat in front of me. “How are you?”
“I’m fine.” That was a lie.
“Can I ask you a question, Liz Parker?” he doesn’t wait for me to answer. “What do you want to do when you grow up?”
When I grow up? I’ll be damned if I knew. I shrugged then … I think.
“Well, you should really think about it, Liz Parker. It’s kind of a really important decision. Don’t you want to get out of Roswell and make something of yourself?
Sure. “I guess.” Another lie.
“That’s good, Liz Parker. That’s good.” He turned around then and I ignored him through the rest of second period.
I sat by myself come lunch time, with my nifty little water bottle. But I should have known better. Because from all the talk going on, from the gossip mill running rampant, from the whispers running wild, I should have know. I should have. But I guess I just didn’t want to see it, until it stared me straight in the face. Or rather, she.
“Liz.” She gave me more of her polite smiles.
Pam. I hate her.
“So…”
“Pam,” I wanted to shove her, I wanted to hit her, I wanted to do something to just get her the hell away from me. “What are you doing here?”
“Eating lunch,” she answered with another smile. “And finishing out my senior year of high school.” She lifted up her brown sack then.
“Why?” Why, of all the places to eat and sit had she picked the spot next to me? “I thought your future was already mapped out for you.” Perfect Pam and that perfect jerk make the perfect couple. Bitterness.
“Well …” her polite smile was strained. “Things happen. Khivar doesn’t … and Max … Well …”
“I don’t want to hear it.” I didn’t want to hear it. And I didn’t have to listen. That’s why I stood up then.
But she stood up with me. “Liz, you have no idea what’s going on right now, do you?”
“I don’t want to know. It’s none of my business anymore.” I could care less. Or break down from all the grr-ness inside me. Yeah, I was very bitter.
“Nothing is at all as it seems.”
But I didn’t hear her. “Leave me alone, Pam.”
And then I moved onto fourth period. Chemistry. The jerk’s table was empty. Not that I had really noticed or anything. I just … I sat down on my usual stool.
“Hi Liz. Welcome back.”
I nodded my reply to Tess and waited for the talk to come. It didn’t. So I asked her, “That’s it?”
“Yeah.” She made a face and got absorbed into her magazine then.
“Hey Liz.” The words came unforeseeingly from the hippie.
“Michael.” I dumbed down my words. “Look, I’ve already had Maria, Kyle, Pam, and Alex-”
“I think they’re all full of shit. They shouldn’t be telling you what to do. I think you’re old enough to know what’s right for you.”
He shocked me with that. I was about to grow a new respect for Michael, but then he kept talking. “And you’re not stupid enough to go to Khivar.” ||
I hear a noise. Open my eyes and Alex is standing before me. “I’ve been calling you forever,” he says.
Sit up. “Oh. What for?”
He gives me a look that says that I’m dumb. “You know … you clip the order up, I cook it, you serve it … Work.”
“Oh.” Work. Yeah. “Oh.” The booth of blondes and their food.
“Maria took it to them,” he says and he keeps standing there. “I wanted to talk to you.”
It’s funny. He’s been wanting to talk to me all day. “I have to work, Alex.” That’s a lie. There’s no one other than the blondes in my section. And Maria can handle that.
“Liz, I’m begging you. Please don’t meet up with Khivar. He’s bad. His intentions, his thoughts, his actions, all bad. Everything about him is bad.”
Roll my eyes.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me. I’m serious here. Can’t you see that this is exactly what he wants? You’re hurt because of Max. And Khivar just shows up to shower you with affection. And you’re falling for it.”
I just stare back.
“You’re smarter than this, Liz,” his voice gets quiet. “We all care about you. And none of us want this for you. We want you to have your life back again. We want you to be normal again.”
Blank stare.
He grins his sad Alex grin, shaking his head. “You’re not hearing a word that I’m saying.”
Smile back. Alex gets it. He knows. I’ve stopped listening a lot time ago.
He leaves back to his duty behind the grill. And I’m left alone again. For about a minute until the door out to the front area opens.
She smiles at me with all her blonde hair and white teeth. It’s not that I don’t like her. It’s that I don’t like the person she’s with.
“Liz, Liz, Liz, Liz …” she shuffles up to me. “I’m supposed to give you this.” She hands me this folded up piece of notebook paper.
Aww … look at that, we’re passing notes like we’re best friends.
Bitter. Bitter. Bitter.
“Shh … it’s a secret,” she seems giddy. “Pam doesn’t know.” And she giggles and leaves out through the door from which she came.
Open up the piece of paper:
--------------
Balcony. 2 am.
I need to talk to you. Please.
Max
--------------
I’m not quite sure what I did after that. I think I stopped thinking. I think I went into autodrive. I think I did my damned hardest to lock my vulnerable self into a box buried deep in my head, where there’s lots of padding everywhere.
Two A.M. He needs to talk to me.
“Maria,” I was standing in front of her before I knew it.
“Yeah?” she has that funny look on her face still.
I have no clue why the words that came through my lips were even said. It was the autopilot talking, not me. “Let’s have a sleep over.”
She answers me with a three letter word that’s supposed to encompass it all, “Fun.”
--------------
I close up hours later. It was a slower day than usual. Maria left early. She had a date with Michael. Alex left early too. He had a date with Isabel. So I was left to lock up. Alone.
Autopilot. I keyed out the register. I put up the chairs. I mopped the floor. I refilled the ketchup bottles. I did all that stuff. And then I headed upstairs.
Mr. and Mrs. Whitman were out … on a date. So I had the entire apartment to myself. Alone. Pull out my backpack and throw a few articles of clothing in, before zipping it up. After all, slumber party, eleven thirty, Maria’s place.
After that, I had nothing else to do but lie down on the pink pastel sheets and stare at the ceiling with its glow in the dark stars stuck everywhere. Alex and Maria took off at eight thirty. I closed up early at nine thirty. I finished the closing up process and headed upstairs by ten.
… It hit me at ten thirteen… the pain… It was earth shattering… and I never saw it coming.
It’s been twenty four hours since it happened. And I thought what I had gone through in that time period had been bad. All the bitterness, all the anger and hatred, hurt and frustration, was nothing compared to what I am feeling now.
The sad desolation. The emptiness. The hole in my heart that just opens up and swallows me … and … I just … I’m alone now.
All the affection … all the emotions I tried to give him was just tossed aside like it meant nothing. And I was resigned to happily do nothing more than just be there for him. Be with him. Love him.
... But I wasn’t good enough for him. I was never good enough for anyone …
Heartache. Now I know what all those stupid songs were singing about. I know the emotion … the devastation behind it all. And it sucks so damn much that it racks my soul and I can’t even breathe …
But I can’t stop thinking about him. I can’t stop seeing his smile, remembering his touch … I can’t stop. I want to. I want to stop thinking. I want to stop feeling. The pain.
He haunts me … I hate him. I hate him with all that I have because of what he did to me … what he’s still putting me through right now. He broke me and there’s not enough glue in the world for me to even try to put myself back together.
The tears that come with the pain only make it hurt more. Each salty stain on the outside that lands on my pillow is a stab on the inside that bleeds through.
He’s a fucking bastard. He just toyed with me and threw me away when he got bored … he used me and he abused me and he screwed with my life and my head and my heart like I meant nothing to him.
So then why can’t I stop loving him like he’s my everything?
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Last edited by Evelynn on Tue Nov 20, 2007 4:03 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Chapter Thirty Nine:
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“Easy. Brad Pitt,” Maria says, fanning herself while she swoons.
“I’m more of an Orlando Bloom kind of gal,” Isabel quirks her lips and makes a face at Maria.
Maria snorts. “Yeah, you would like the puny type. Look at Alex.”
“Hey,” Isabel gets all defensive. “Leave my man alone. At least he knows how to groom himself.” I think we all know that she’s referring to Michael.
Maria just shakes her head. “Low blow, Isabel. Low blow.” They laugh.
If you haven’t gathered yet, we’re sleepover-ing it up. At Isabel’s house, not Maria’s. All three of us. Isabel, Maria, and me. Best friends. Yeah.
“How about you, Liz?” And they all look at me for my response to the celebrity that I pine after.
Shake my head. “I don’t really-”
“Hold on,” Isabel’s cell phone rings, breaking up my awkwardness. One guess as to who is calling her at twelve thirty at night. “Hi, honey. Oh, okay. Hold on.”
She holds her portable communication device out to me. “For you, Liz. It’s Alex.”
Take it from her. Deep breath. “Hello?”
“Liz. It’s Alex,” he says it like I didn’t know already.
“Hi.”
“How are you holding up?” he asks.
I hate questions like these. I don’t understand them. Why is it that whenever you’re feeling your crummiest or when you’re trying to hide or forget that you’re feeling your crummiest, people bombard you with questions about your crummy condition? What the hell am I supposed to say? “I’m great.”
“Are you girls having fun?”
Weak smile, even though he can’t see me. “A blast.”
Maria gives me a thumbs up. I try not to roll my eyes. But it happens anyway.
“That’s good.” He’s all perky. It’s kind of annoying. “So you’re staying all night at Isabel’s?”
“Yeah.”
“What are you going to do tomorrow?” It seems like he’s interrogating me. But his voice sounds like he doesn’t really care, just asking for good measure.
“Watch movies?” I think. Well, “Maria suggested it.”
“Yes, Alex,” Maria uses her loud voice. “We are going to stay in with chick flicks and ice cream. And it’s girls only so you can’t come.” They giggle. I’m so not feeling this right now.
“Alright,” he talks kind of sing-songy. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Another weak smile from me. “Peachy.”
“Have fun, okay?”
Yeah. Fun. “Bye Alex.”
“Goodnight, sweetie.”
Click. Fun.
Isabel puts her phone up and we continue on with our sleepover bonanza. I tune out most of it. I laugh when they laugh. I make faces when they make faces. Monkey see, monkey do. They gossip. They gab. They giggle. It’s a girly slumber party. But I’m just not feeling it.
My mother always wondered why I didn’t have more friends over. Why I didn’t go to more parties. Why I wasn’t more popular. Is that what I’m supposed to be doing right now? Partying up my teenage years? Having a blast and feeling invincible? Prettying myself up, dancing, and jiving the night away?
Not pining after some playboy who I knew would only stomp my heart out if I gave it to him. And he did. Bad thoughts.
“Back when you used to date Alex,” Isabel says with the hugest smile on her face. I think I tuned back into the conversation just in time to hear the end of it. I think.
“Oh my god,” Maria’s eyes go wide. “Don’t even bring that up. That was like eons ago. And it was so awkward and weird.”
“Well, he’s mine now so don’t even go there,” Isabel says with so much possessiveness.
And why wouldn’t she be? Alex is hers. Just like Michael is Maria’s. Kyle is Tess’s. And Max … isn’t mine.
God damn this …
So … “You’re fine that Maria dated Alex?” I mean … Isabel’s all cool talking and joking about her current boyfriend with someone else. Like it’s nothing. Because I … I fucking hate Pam.
“Yeah,” Isabel gives me this weird look. “Maria as his girlfriend was part of his past. I am his present and his future. And Maria and I were friends before I even got with Alex.”
Really? “You were?”
“Yeah, back when Maria used to be a cheerleader.” Isabel does a little ra-ra thing with her hands for emphasis.
“God, don’t remind me.” Maria’s hand goes to her forehead while she shakes her head. “I wonder if Pam still hates me for quitting.”
“For quitting?” Pam would hate Maria just because she quit doing something that she just grew to despise?
Isabel eyes go wide, nodding her head like crazy. “Pam holds grudges like no other.”
I knew Pam was a bitch. Look towards Isabel. “Was she mad at you when you dated Max?”
All I get are blank stares. “I dated Max?!” I think Isabel kind of chokes while she says this. “What? That never happened.”
Wait. “But-”
“Where the hell did you get that, Liz?” Isabel’s eyes are still wide.
“Yeah,” Maria’s laughing her ass off. “The only girls Max has ever hooked up with are you and Pam. And Pam was …” Her voice dies off. She clears her throat. “So, what movies do you want to watch tomorrow?”
Stare down at the carpet. Max and Pam. Pam and Max. They suit each other. She’s a bitch and he’s a bastard. Bitter, bitter, Liz.
I hear sighs and I get pity glances from them both. “So honestly, Liz,” Maria pats my leg. “On a scale of one to ten, how much does it hurt?”
“What are you talking about?” Me pretending to not know what they’re talking about only earns me knowing looks. Hang my head. “Ten.”
“Aww … poor baby,” Maria scoots next to me and puts my head on her shoulder.
“You know what it’s going to take to get over him, don’t you?” Isabel’s sympathizing for me so much. I hate it.
But I need to know. “What?”
“Time,” she says it so simply. “Time. A whole lot of ice cream, and movies that make you cry your eyes out.”
It’s funny. But they aren’t laughing. “How much time?”
“Depends on how close you were,” Maria chimes in. “If y’all were just friends, maybe an hour or a day. Casual dating, three days to a week. Lovers, maybe three months. If he ripped your heart out and stomped on it, could take years.”
Wait … what?!
“Maria!”
Years?! Are you serious?
“I’m just being honest,” Maria holds her hands up in defense.
Silence. Because it’s the truth. And they all know it.
“You know what?” Isabel’s smiling. She’s changing the subject. “That color’s not good for you,” she’s referring to the purple colored toe nail polish they painted on me earlier. “Try this one.”
She touches the polish lightly with her finger and it changes to a cherry red right before my eyes. Surprisingly, her doing this is not as shocking as it would have been weeks ago. And what better way to change the subject than with some magic tricks, right? “You can do that?”
“Yeah,” Maria’s rolling her eyes. “How do you think she keeps looking perfect everyday? Mary Kay?”
Turn towards Maria. “What can you do?”
“Do?” She gives me this weird look.
“Alien powers.” Because that’s what they are, right? Powers that are alien?
“Oh …” she snortles, “yeah …” she chuckles, “I’m not Antarian.”
Huh.
“I’m from Vyntra, the romantic planet,” she puckers her lips and winks at me.
I am unfazed.
Huh. Like Larek.
“But, I don’t know. I kind of like to think of myself as an earthling now.”
Isabel laughs.
“No. I’m serious. I mean, come on,” Maria lists points off on her fingers, “I don’t have powers. I’ve lived here most of my life. I’ve grown accustomed to human ways and their lifestyle. I can almost stand their eating habits too. I’m pretty much an earthling.”
“Yeah, right,” Isabel snorts at her and I’m not sure what’s so funny.
“So then are you ever going back to … Vyntra?” I ask.
She just shakes her head with a wide smile on her face. “Nope. I get to stay here, on Earth. I’m going to UNM.”
Oh. Wow. “I thought you were just kidding.”
“You should go with me, Liz,” she’s whining. I don’t like it. “We can room together. You know, do the earthling thing.”
Scoff. “Sure.”
--------------
Isabel snores. Not like a gross manly snore or anything. But, she snores. Maria’s passed out on the ground next to me.
It’s funny. Last night, after it all went down, I slept fine. But tonight, ever since it hit me, I can’t seem to close my eyes long enough to even try.
The clock reads ten after two.
I wonder how long he’ll wait for me there, on the balcony. I wonder what he has to say. Maybe … maybe he’s sorry. Maybe it’s hitting him too and he wants things to go back to how they were. I hate that I’m hopeful. I hate that I care. But I can’t help it. It’s Max.
God, when am I going to get over this? According to Maria … years. What if I never get over it? What if, this was it? What if … Max ruined it for me. What if this is the one that I mourn forever for? Fuck.
It took me two minutes to get out the window and down the street. It’s colder than normal for this time of year. Or maybe I’m just cold on the inside.
I just … I don’t understand what the hell happened. One minute he’s chasing me around, telling me sweet words, promising me forever if I would only stay with him. And then I do. And all the lovey dovey shit overwhelmed me, but I faced it head on like I’ve never done before, ever. I opened myself up to it and I grab onto it with both hands.
And then I’m thrown aside like I am nothing.
Was I just a challenge to him? Was that it? He got what he wanted from me. He made me love him, whole-heartedly. Did he see my bloodied and bruised heart that I offered him on a platter and decide that he deserves better? Or did he even only settle for me because Pam betrayed him, because I was the next best thing? Until she came back …
Glance up the ladder that leads up to the balcony on top of the Crashdown and I can see movement. Brace myself to face him. So much confusion is running through my head right now. So many emotions and uncertainty that just builds with each rung I climb.
Once I reach the top, I open my eyes to see someone sitting leisurely on the lawn chair. It isn’t exactly who I was expecting. “What are you doing here?” I didn’t mean for my voice to come out sounding annoyed, but it did anyway.
“Waiting for you, love,” he answers slowly, he stands slowly, he walks over to me slowly. Everything slowly, like he has all the time in the world, where I’m concerned. He takes my hand and helps me over, to be charming, I guess. Because that’s what he is, charm and sophistication. He’s got that playboy feel too, only with more class about it than Max.
I stand firmly onto the balcony and he still doesn’t let go of my hand. He brings it slowly to his lips and kisses my knuckles softly.
If I hadn’t just gotten my heart stomped out by another charm-filled, smooth talking, tall, and mysterious alien less than thirty six hours ago, I would probably blush and be swooning. But alas, no.
“How long have you been here?” I ask, pulling my hand away.
Is Khivar the one who sent me the note? Not Max? No. It was Max’s handwriting. I would know. Loving someone makes you pick up on little quirks about them like this. I hate it.
“Since forever,” his voice is so silky, it irks me.
“Did you run into Max, then?” Berating myself right now would do me no good. He’s on my brain. He’s weaseled his damn way into my head and a huge part of me wonders if he’ll ever leave.
“Maxwell?” Khivar makes a face at me. “No, love. He hasn’t been here.”
“Oh.” Did he even plan on showing? Or is this a trick of his to make sure that I’m always thinking of him, always waiting around for him, always hoping, just in case Pam decides to leave again. Well, if that’s his plan then fuck him. “I should get back then. A girls’ sleepover thing.”
“Stay. Talk with me. I enjoy hearing your voice,” he says, sitting down in a chair and motioning for me to sit too.
If you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with, right? “Okay.” Close my eyes and take a seat.
“I have a proposition for you,” he’s smirking at me. He’s trying to reel me in.
“You do?” But I’m not biting so quickly. Once bitten, twice shy, right? “What kind of proposition?”
“I’ll have to return back to Antar soon. To rule,” he’s bragging. I know he’s bragging. “How would you like to come with me?”
What? “I … I don’t know. I have to finish school here. And I have work.” And I have to stick around … just in case he changes his mind. Just in case Pam walks out again. Just in case I have another chance.
I am so pathetic.
“I’ll take care of you,” he touches my cheek. And I let him. “You don’t need to work.”
My breathing gets hard. His hand is warm. It feels nice, the attention, the affection … “But … school …”
“A studious one, aren’t you?” he laughs. “Finish out your school year and come with me. It’s beautiful on Antar. Don’t you want to come see it? Find out where you come from?”
I don’t … “I don’t know …”
“You’re a curious one. I sense it in you. I think you very much want to know where you come from. And I want to be the one to show you.”
“I …”
And he says the words that seal the deal … “The little boy-king has moved on. It’s time you did too.”
My heart breaks with my resolve. “I’ll think about it.”
“I’ll be back for you again soon,” he smiles. He knows.
“Liz?” a voice enters from the bedroom window and I saw it coming. He’s always butting in where Khivar and I are concerned. “I thought I heard …” Alex stares at the man holding onto my hands. “Khivar.”
“I should be going,” Khivar doesn’t even look Alex’s way. Alex is insignificant to Khivar. But apparently, I am very significant. “Until we meet again, love.” A soft kiss on the cheek and he swings himself smoothly over the side and down the ladder. I watch him go.
“Liz,” Alex uses his big brother voice, “what’s going on?”
Shake my head, shrug my shoulders, sad smile. “I don’t know, Alex.”
“I’m going to have that ladder taken down.” I turn to him, poking his head out of the window, motioning for me to come inside, glaring at what he thinks is ominously a bad situation. “I thought you were having a sleepover at Isabel’s.”
Shrug my shoulders and slide inside with his help. “I got bored.”
“Let me see your hands,” he sits me down on the bed.
Stare up at him, “Why?”
“Just let me see them,” big brother Alex wants me to just do as he says and not argue. Well, big brother Alex better realize soon that he doesn’t control me, no one does.
Hold my fingers out to him and he grabs both my hands and turns them over, palm up, pushing up my sleeves and staring over my wrists.
Pull my hand away. What the hell?
What does he think I’ve been doing?
“Wait here,” he says and he starts towards the door.
I stand too, pulling down at my sleeves. “I should get back to Isabel’s.”
“Just wait here real quick, Liz,” he pushes me back down on the bed.
“What is it?” What’s wrong? Alex has never been physically forceful with me before.
He whispers. “Max is here.”
My heart stops. My mind blanks. My bitterness makes me say, “So?”
Alex sighs his knowing sigh and I refuse to acknowledge it. “He feels as though he needs to talk to you.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Denial, denial, denial. It’s what I do.
Again with the raised eyebrow knowing look from Alex, “I’ll let you think that one over.”
He’s sympathetic again. He’s patient again. Because I’m freaked. “He’s in my room if you want to see him, Liz.”
“I need to get back to Isabel’s. I need to get back to Isabel’s. I need to get back to Isabel’s.” It’s my mantra. It’s my lifeline. It’s my only chance at sanity.
“It’s late, Liz,” he closes the window and locks it. “And they already know you’re missing.”
“What?”
“Isabel called me,” he says it like it’s nothing, like he didn’t freak when they told him I was missing, but I know better. “They’re not looking for you anymore. I told them I’d find you.”
Panic and my eyes go wide. “So what now?”
Alex’s hand is on the door, he’s looking back at me, understanding in his eyes, “Max is here if you’re willing to talk to him, Liz. But just say the word and I’ll get rid of him if you aren’t.”
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Chapter Thirty Nine:
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“Easy. Brad Pitt,” Maria says, fanning herself while she swoons.
“I’m more of an Orlando Bloom kind of gal,” Isabel quirks her lips and makes a face at Maria.
Maria snorts. “Yeah, you would like the puny type. Look at Alex.”
“Hey,” Isabel gets all defensive. “Leave my man alone. At least he knows how to groom himself.” I think we all know that she’s referring to Michael.
Maria just shakes her head. “Low blow, Isabel. Low blow.” They laugh.
If you haven’t gathered yet, we’re sleepover-ing it up. At Isabel’s house, not Maria’s. All three of us. Isabel, Maria, and me. Best friends. Yeah.
“How about you, Liz?” And they all look at me for my response to the celebrity that I pine after.
Shake my head. “I don’t really-”
“Hold on,” Isabel’s cell phone rings, breaking up my awkwardness. One guess as to who is calling her at twelve thirty at night. “Hi, honey. Oh, okay. Hold on.”
She holds her portable communication device out to me. “For you, Liz. It’s Alex.”
Take it from her. Deep breath. “Hello?”
“Liz. It’s Alex,” he says it like I didn’t know already.
“Hi.”
“How are you holding up?” he asks.
I hate questions like these. I don’t understand them. Why is it that whenever you’re feeling your crummiest or when you’re trying to hide or forget that you’re feeling your crummiest, people bombard you with questions about your crummy condition? What the hell am I supposed to say? “I’m great.”
“Are you girls having fun?”
Weak smile, even though he can’t see me. “A blast.”
Maria gives me a thumbs up. I try not to roll my eyes. But it happens anyway.
“That’s good.” He’s all perky. It’s kind of annoying. “So you’re staying all night at Isabel’s?”
“Yeah.”
“What are you going to do tomorrow?” It seems like he’s interrogating me. But his voice sounds like he doesn’t really care, just asking for good measure.
“Watch movies?” I think. Well, “Maria suggested it.”
“Yes, Alex,” Maria uses her loud voice. “We are going to stay in with chick flicks and ice cream. And it’s girls only so you can’t come.” They giggle. I’m so not feeling this right now.
“Alright,” he talks kind of sing-songy. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Another weak smile from me. “Peachy.”
“Have fun, okay?”
Yeah. Fun. “Bye Alex.”
“Goodnight, sweetie.”
Click. Fun.
Isabel puts her phone up and we continue on with our sleepover bonanza. I tune out most of it. I laugh when they laugh. I make faces when they make faces. Monkey see, monkey do. They gossip. They gab. They giggle. It’s a girly slumber party. But I’m just not feeling it.
My mother always wondered why I didn’t have more friends over. Why I didn’t go to more parties. Why I wasn’t more popular. Is that what I’m supposed to be doing right now? Partying up my teenage years? Having a blast and feeling invincible? Prettying myself up, dancing, and jiving the night away?
Not pining after some playboy who I knew would only stomp my heart out if I gave it to him. And he did. Bad thoughts.
“Back when you used to date Alex,” Isabel says with the hugest smile on her face. I think I tuned back into the conversation just in time to hear the end of it. I think.
“Oh my god,” Maria’s eyes go wide. “Don’t even bring that up. That was like eons ago. And it was so awkward and weird.”
“Well, he’s mine now so don’t even go there,” Isabel says with so much possessiveness.
And why wouldn’t she be? Alex is hers. Just like Michael is Maria’s. Kyle is Tess’s. And Max … isn’t mine.
God damn this …
So … “You’re fine that Maria dated Alex?” I mean … Isabel’s all cool talking and joking about her current boyfriend with someone else. Like it’s nothing. Because I … I fucking hate Pam.
“Yeah,” Isabel gives me this weird look. “Maria as his girlfriend was part of his past. I am his present and his future. And Maria and I were friends before I even got with Alex.”
Really? “You were?”
“Yeah, back when Maria used to be a cheerleader.” Isabel does a little ra-ra thing with her hands for emphasis.
“God, don’t remind me.” Maria’s hand goes to her forehead while she shakes her head. “I wonder if Pam still hates me for quitting.”
“For quitting?” Pam would hate Maria just because she quit doing something that she just grew to despise?
Isabel eyes go wide, nodding her head like crazy. “Pam holds grudges like no other.”
I knew Pam was a bitch. Look towards Isabel. “Was she mad at you when you dated Max?”
All I get are blank stares. “I dated Max?!” I think Isabel kind of chokes while she says this. “What? That never happened.”
Wait. “But-”
“Where the hell did you get that, Liz?” Isabel’s eyes are still wide.
“Yeah,” Maria’s laughing her ass off. “The only girls Max has ever hooked up with are you and Pam. And Pam was …” Her voice dies off. She clears her throat. “So, what movies do you want to watch tomorrow?”
Stare down at the carpet. Max and Pam. Pam and Max. They suit each other. She’s a bitch and he’s a bastard. Bitter, bitter, Liz.
I hear sighs and I get pity glances from them both. “So honestly, Liz,” Maria pats my leg. “On a scale of one to ten, how much does it hurt?”
“What are you talking about?” Me pretending to not know what they’re talking about only earns me knowing looks. Hang my head. “Ten.”
“Aww … poor baby,” Maria scoots next to me and puts my head on her shoulder.
“You know what it’s going to take to get over him, don’t you?” Isabel’s sympathizing for me so much. I hate it.
But I need to know. “What?”
“Time,” she says it so simply. “Time. A whole lot of ice cream, and movies that make you cry your eyes out.”
It’s funny. But they aren’t laughing. “How much time?”
“Depends on how close you were,” Maria chimes in. “If y’all were just friends, maybe an hour or a day. Casual dating, three days to a week. Lovers, maybe three months. If he ripped your heart out and stomped on it, could take years.”
Wait … what?!
“Maria!”
Years?! Are you serious?
“I’m just being honest,” Maria holds her hands up in defense.
Silence. Because it’s the truth. And they all know it.
“You know what?” Isabel’s smiling. She’s changing the subject. “That color’s not good for you,” she’s referring to the purple colored toe nail polish they painted on me earlier. “Try this one.”
She touches the polish lightly with her finger and it changes to a cherry red right before my eyes. Surprisingly, her doing this is not as shocking as it would have been weeks ago. And what better way to change the subject than with some magic tricks, right? “You can do that?”
“Yeah,” Maria’s rolling her eyes. “How do you think she keeps looking perfect everyday? Mary Kay?”
Turn towards Maria. “What can you do?”
“Do?” She gives me this weird look.
“Alien powers.” Because that’s what they are, right? Powers that are alien?
“Oh …” she snortles, “yeah …” she chuckles, “I’m not Antarian.”
Huh.
“I’m from Vyntra, the romantic planet,” she puckers her lips and winks at me.
I am unfazed.
Huh. Like Larek.
“But, I don’t know. I kind of like to think of myself as an earthling now.”
Isabel laughs.
“No. I’m serious. I mean, come on,” Maria lists points off on her fingers, “I don’t have powers. I’ve lived here most of my life. I’ve grown accustomed to human ways and their lifestyle. I can almost stand their eating habits too. I’m pretty much an earthling.”
“Yeah, right,” Isabel snorts at her and I’m not sure what’s so funny.
“So then are you ever going back to … Vyntra?” I ask.
She just shakes her head with a wide smile on her face. “Nope. I get to stay here, on Earth. I’m going to UNM.”
Oh. Wow. “I thought you were just kidding.”
“You should go with me, Liz,” she’s whining. I don’t like it. “We can room together. You know, do the earthling thing.”
Scoff. “Sure.”
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Isabel snores. Not like a gross manly snore or anything. But, she snores. Maria’s passed out on the ground next to me.
It’s funny. Last night, after it all went down, I slept fine. But tonight, ever since it hit me, I can’t seem to close my eyes long enough to even try.
The clock reads ten after two.
I wonder how long he’ll wait for me there, on the balcony. I wonder what he has to say. Maybe … maybe he’s sorry. Maybe it’s hitting him too and he wants things to go back to how they were. I hate that I’m hopeful. I hate that I care. But I can’t help it. It’s Max.
God, when am I going to get over this? According to Maria … years. What if I never get over it? What if, this was it? What if … Max ruined it for me. What if this is the one that I mourn forever for? Fuck.
It took me two minutes to get out the window and down the street. It’s colder than normal for this time of year. Or maybe I’m just cold on the inside.
I just … I don’t understand what the hell happened. One minute he’s chasing me around, telling me sweet words, promising me forever if I would only stay with him. And then I do. And all the lovey dovey shit overwhelmed me, but I faced it head on like I’ve never done before, ever. I opened myself up to it and I grab onto it with both hands.
And then I’m thrown aside like I am nothing.
Was I just a challenge to him? Was that it? He got what he wanted from me. He made me love him, whole-heartedly. Did he see my bloodied and bruised heart that I offered him on a platter and decide that he deserves better? Or did he even only settle for me because Pam betrayed him, because I was the next best thing? Until she came back …
Glance up the ladder that leads up to the balcony on top of the Crashdown and I can see movement. Brace myself to face him. So much confusion is running through my head right now. So many emotions and uncertainty that just builds with each rung I climb.
Once I reach the top, I open my eyes to see someone sitting leisurely on the lawn chair. It isn’t exactly who I was expecting. “What are you doing here?” I didn’t mean for my voice to come out sounding annoyed, but it did anyway.
“Waiting for you, love,” he answers slowly, he stands slowly, he walks over to me slowly. Everything slowly, like he has all the time in the world, where I’m concerned. He takes my hand and helps me over, to be charming, I guess. Because that’s what he is, charm and sophistication. He’s got that playboy feel too, only with more class about it than Max.
I stand firmly onto the balcony and he still doesn’t let go of my hand. He brings it slowly to his lips and kisses my knuckles softly.
If I hadn’t just gotten my heart stomped out by another charm-filled, smooth talking, tall, and mysterious alien less than thirty six hours ago, I would probably blush and be swooning. But alas, no.
“How long have you been here?” I ask, pulling my hand away.
Is Khivar the one who sent me the note? Not Max? No. It was Max’s handwriting. I would know. Loving someone makes you pick up on little quirks about them like this. I hate it.
“Since forever,” his voice is so silky, it irks me.
“Did you run into Max, then?” Berating myself right now would do me no good. He’s on my brain. He’s weaseled his damn way into my head and a huge part of me wonders if he’ll ever leave.
“Maxwell?” Khivar makes a face at me. “No, love. He hasn’t been here.”
“Oh.” Did he even plan on showing? Or is this a trick of his to make sure that I’m always thinking of him, always waiting around for him, always hoping, just in case Pam decides to leave again. Well, if that’s his plan then fuck him. “I should get back then. A girls’ sleepover thing.”
“Stay. Talk with me. I enjoy hearing your voice,” he says, sitting down in a chair and motioning for me to sit too.
If you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with, right? “Okay.” Close my eyes and take a seat.
“I have a proposition for you,” he’s smirking at me. He’s trying to reel me in.
“You do?” But I’m not biting so quickly. Once bitten, twice shy, right? “What kind of proposition?”
“I’ll have to return back to Antar soon. To rule,” he’s bragging. I know he’s bragging. “How would you like to come with me?”
What? “I … I don’t know. I have to finish school here. And I have work.” And I have to stick around … just in case he changes his mind. Just in case Pam walks out again. Just in case I have another chance.
I am so pathetic.
“I’ll take care of you,” he touches my cheek. And I let him. “You don’t need to work.”
My breathing gets hard. His hand is warm. It feels nice, the attention, the affection … “But … school …”
“A studious one, aren’t you?” he laughs. “Finish out your school year and come with me. It’s beautiful on Antar. Don’t you want to come see it? Find out where you come from?”
I don’t … “I don’t know …”
“You’re a curious one. I sense it in you. I think you very much want to know where you come from. And I want to be the one to show you.”
“I …”
And he says the words that seal the deal … “The little boy-king has moved on. It’s time you did too.”
My heart breaks with my resolve. “I’ll think about it.”
“I’ll be back for you again soon,” he smiles. He knows.
“Liz?” a voice enters from the bedroom window and I saw it coming. He’s always butting in where Khivar and I are concerned. “I thought I heard …” Alex stares at the man holding onto my hands. “Khivar.”
“I should be going,” Khivar doesn’t even look Alex’s way. Alex is insignificant to Khivar. But apparently, I am very significant. “Until we meet again, love.” A soft kiss on the cheek and he swings himself smoothly over the side and down the ladder. I watch him go.
“Liz,” Alex uses his big brother voice, “what’s going on?”
Shake my head, shrug my shoulders, sad smile. “I don’t know, Alex.”
“I’m going to have that ladder taken down.” I turn to him, poking his head out of the window, motioning for me to come inside, glaring at what he thinks is ominously a bad situation. “I thought you were having a sleepover at Isabel’s.”
Shrug my shoulders and slide inside with his help. “I got bored.”
“Let me see your hands,” he sits me down on the bed.
Stare up at him, “Why?”
“Just let me see them,” big brother Alex wants me to just do as he says and not argue. Well, big brother Alex better realize soon that he doesn’t control me, no one does.
Hold my fingers out to him and he grabs both my hands and turns them over, palm up, pushing up my sleeves and staring over my wrists.
Pull my hand away. What the hell?
What does he think I’ve been doing?
“Wait here,” he says and he starts towards the door.
I stand too, pulling down at my sleeves. “I should get back to Isabel’s.”
“Just wait here real quick, Liz,” he pushes me back down on the bed.
“What is it?” What’s wrong? Alex has never been physically forceful with me before.
He whispers. “Max is here.”
My heart stops. My mind blanks. My bitterness makes me say, “So?”
Alex sighs his knowing sigh and I refuse to acknowledge it. “He feels as though he needs to talk to you.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Denial, denial, denial. It’s what I do.
Again with the raised eyebrow knowing look from Alex, “I’ll let you think that one over.”
He’s sympathetic again. He’s patient again. Because I’m freaked. “He’s in my room if you want to see him, Liz.”
“I need to get back to Isabel’s. I need to get back to Isabel’s. I need to get back to Isabel’s.” It’s my mantra. It’s my lifeline. It’s my only chance at sanity.
“It’s late, Liz,” he closes the window and locks it. “And they already know you’re missing.”
“What?”
“Isabel called me,” he says it like it’s nothing, like he didn’t freak when they told him I was missing, but I know better. “They’re not looking for you anymore. I told them I’d find you.”
Panic and my eyes go wide. “So what now?”
Alex’s hand is on the door, he’s looking back at me, understanding in his eyes, “Max is here if you’re willing to talk to him, Liz. But just say the word and I’ll get rid of him if you aren’t.”
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Last edited by Evelynn on Tue Nov 20, 2007 4:05 am, edited 3 times in total.