They sat in silence side by side in the minivan. Liz's eyes moved to her left, looking at Max sitting there. He had a vacant stare, appearing to be looking at the back of the driver's seat, but his eyes were really unfocused, as if he were looking at infinity, looking at some dark abyss.
She had somehow felt his emotions as the guy in the letterman's jacket had approached them,.....tried to approach her. Some crude rude friend of Debbie Troy's she remembered, Frank....something. One of Debbie's many....conquests.
Max's emotions had scared her then. She had read from his face the guilt he felt during her father's talk, and she had thought for a second it would ignite into the sort of fury she now remembered seeing two weeks ago, when he had been ready to do anything, perhaps even to kill, to try purge that guilt from his heart. That wasn't the real Max, she knew. The real Max was kind, loving, caring, sensitive. The real Max had looked the other way when the teacher had killed the frogs for them to dissect.
But the last two weeks had driven everyone crazy, her parents, Izzie, probably his parents as well. It was all her fault, she realized. She had to calm him down, she had to tell him that her father's words were wrong, that he wasn't responsible, either then or now. She'd been irresponsible then, she knew. She'd never put her father in a position like that again, never put Max in that position. She had to explain that to him, tell him that it wasn't his fault, wasn't his responsibility, take away the guilt her father had heaped on him.
She couldn't do that now, not in a minivan with six other people. But she would when they got to the dance. She'd find some quiet place where they could be alone, and she'd tell him that. She'd make him understand.
Sock hop (M/L Mature) complete
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When they got to the school gymnasium Liz realized that getting Max alone would be more difficult than she thought. Apparently Principal Gordon didn't want anything more than baby-steps for her students either. The roll down chain curtains were across both of the exits to the school that lead to the cafeteria or the classrooms. If they went back outside, they wouldn't be allowed back in. There were the boys and girls restrooms and the locker rooms whch also had restrooms, neither of which were particularly appropriate to take your date for a private discussion. Izzie's decorating had managed to put an awful lot of toilet paper in front of some of the overhead lights down at the west end of the building though. She'd heard Izzie confess to Maria about having plans to waltz Alex down that way as the evening progressed. Something about a dragon that she hadn't really bothered to listen to, worrying about Max.
This was new to everyone she realized, watching the hot, sweaty, uncomfortable, and oh-so-very-nervous couples dancing to the rock music, trying desperately not to get too close to each other. As the DJ changed the music to a slow dance, almost all of the couples scattered to the sidelines, not yet comfortable with that much interaction with the opposite sex. Sensing her chance, she walked to where Max and Michael were getting punch and held her hand out to him....
"Liz..?"
"It's called a dance, Max. That's what we are here for."
"I ...uh...don't slow dance well. Actually, I don't dance well, but I don't slow dance at all."
"It's a Sadie Hawkins dance, Max. I invited you, you accepted. I guess it's time you learned, ..time we both learned."
This was new to everyone she realized, watching the hot, sweaty, uncomfortable, and oh-so-very-nervous couples dancing to the rock music, trying desperately not to get too close to each other. As the DJ changed the music to a slow dance, almost all of the couples scattered to the sidelines, not yet comfortable with that much interaction with the opposite sex. Sensing her chance, she walked to where Max and Michael were getting punch and held her hand out to him....
"Liz..?"
"It's called a dance, Max. That's what we are here for."
"I ...uh...don't slow dance well. Actually, I don't dance well, but I don't slow dance at all."
"It's a Sadie Hawkins dance, Max. I invited you, you accepted. I guess it's time you learned, ..time we both learned."
Max was suddenly worried. This hadn't been the plan. The plan had been to be aloof, disinterested, ...boring. The plan, actually, was just to dance away from Liz, not really be any closer to her than to any other boy in the place. He thought he could lose himself in the background, discourage her without really insulting her or getting her mad or anything. Just keep close enough, he thought suddenly, to make sure she was safe. That was his responsibility he knew, her father had made that clear, not that he'd needed to hear that now. 'Where the hell had he been with that two weeks ago?' thought Max. 'Then it would have helped.'
But of course, he hadn't thought about slow dances. It would be harder to pretend to ignore her when he actually had to...touch her. He remembered how she had looked in his arms as he carried her along that night, drugged and dazed, her blouse torn, lit only by the orange glare of the streetlights. Max didn't know if he believed in angels, but if they existed their faces must look like hers had looked that night, despite her scraped cheek and bruised lips. The memory of her in his arms, looking like that, was the only good memory he carried from that horrible night. And as he looked down at her now, he thought she was even more beautiful tonight. The gods hated him. He was sure of it.
Keeping his body as far from hers as possible, he put his right hand lightly on her waist and took her right hand in his left hand. 'A waltz? Wasn't that that 1-2-3 step thing they'd learned in the cafeteria on that rainy day in fifth grade PE? Maybe he wouldn't have to be aloof'. he thought. 'I'll probably step on her feet so much she'll lose interest.'
But of course, he hadn't thought about slow dances. It would be harder to pretend to ignore her when he actually had to...touch her. He remembered how she had looked in his arms as he carried her along that night, drugged and dazed, her blouse torn, lit only by the orange glare of the streetlights. Max didn't know if he believed in angels, but if they existed their faces must look like hers had looked that night, despite her scraped cheek and bruised lips. The memory of her in his arms, looking like that, was the only good memory he carried from that horrible night. And as he looked down at her now, he thought she was even more beautiful tonight. The gods hated him. He was sure of it.
Keeping his body as far from hers as possible, he put his right hand lightly on her waist and took her right hand in his left hand. 'A waltz? Wasn't that that 1-2-3 step thing they'd learned in the cafeteria on that rainy day in fifth grade PE? Maybe he wouldn't have to be aloof'. he thought. 'I'll probably step on her feet so much she'll lose interest.'
'Why does the boy always get to lead?' Liz wondered.
Max kept leading her toward the noise and bright lights around the DJ's table. Even with slow music you couldn't hear yourself think over there, let alone have a private and serious conversation. A true scientist at heart, she did some experimenting and discovered that if she got closer to him, he'd back away a little bit.
Slowly, gently, always thinking he was in control of the situation, Max Evans was gradually being hazed toward the relative quiet and darkness at the far end of the gymnasium, as he tried with diminishing success to keep his distance from his partner.
Slowly, gently, always thinking she was just hazing Max, Liz Parker began to feel more and more comfortable as she managed to dance ever closer to her partner, while maneuvering him to the relative quiet and darkness at the end of the gymnasium.
Max kept leading her toward the noise and bright lights around the DJ's table. Even with slow music you couldn't hear yourself think over there, let alone have a private and serious conversation. A true scientist at heart, she did some experimenting and discovered that if she got closer to him, he'd back away a little bit.
Slowly, gently, always thinking he was in control of the situation, Max Evans was gradually being hazed toward the relative quiet and darkness at the far end of the gymnasium, as he tried with diminishing success to keep his distance from his partner.
Slowly, gently, always thinking she was just hazing Max, Liz Parker began to feel more and more comfortable as she managed to dance ever closer to her partner, while maneuvering him to the relative quiet and darkness at the end of the gymnasium.
Watching Liz lead Max away from the punch bowl, Maria approached Michael Guerin. As he looked up at her, she held out her hand.
'No, no,no....,' thought Michael, 'not a slow dance. Izzie promised me I wouldn't have to slow dance.'
Maria smiled at the look of scared disbelief on Michael's face. "Come on Spa.......uh...... Michael. If Liz and Max can do it, so can we."
"I don't slow dance."
"Well don't worry, it's what I do best." Maria grabbed his left hand and stuck it to her waist, put her right hand tenderly along alongside of his neck, and started to dance.
As he slowly danced out toward the middle of the gymnasium, looking around and seeing only two or three other couples on the floor, Michael asked himself how he'd let himself be talked into this. 'Easy,' he thought. 'When you only have two friends in the world and one has been totally dysfunctional for two weeks, you kind of listen to the other one. Especially if she says you need to do this to get the first one better.'
He noticed Maria kind of cuddle up against him. She was a touchy-feely person. He used to watch in elementary school as other kids mothers would drop them off or pick them up. It always seemed to involve a lot of touching. He'd never had a mother. He'd never had anyone who had really wanted to touch him. He'd often wondered what it would be like. It wasn't nearly as unpleasant as he thought it would be. As a matter of fact, it wasn't unpleasant at all. He wondered if everybody who was touchy-feely used strawberry scented shampoo. 'If it wasn't for the fact that she'd go ape if she knew I was an inhuman monster, I could probably get used to this,' thought Michael Guerin.
Maria laid her head on Michael's shoulder. Intentionally she exhaled softly, warmly, against his neck. She felt the arm around her waist tighten briefly, a slight tremble in his touch.
'A diamond in the rough, huh? Well, maybe he is. He certainly isn't perfect, but I bet if I worked with him a little bit.....'
'No, no,no....,' thought Michael, 'not a slow dance. Izzie promised me I wouldn't have to slow dance.'
Maria smiled at the look of scared disbelief on Michael's face. "Come on Spa.......uh...... Michael. If Liz and Max can do it, so can we."
"I don't slow dance."
"Well don't worry, it's what I do best." Maria grabbed his left hand and stuck it to her waist, put her right hand tenderly along alongside of his neck, and started to dance.
As he slowly danced out toward the middle of the gymnasium, looking around and seeing only two or three other couples on the floor, Michael asked himself how he'd let himself be talked into this. 'Easy,' he thought. 'When you only have two friends in the world and one has been totally dysfunctional for two weeks, you kind of listen to the other one. Especially if she says you need to do this to get the first one better.'
He noticed Maria kind of cuddle up against him. She was a touchy-feely person. He used to watch in elementary school as other kids mothers would drop them off or pick them up. It always seemed to involve a lot of touching. He'd never had a mother. He'd never had anyone who had really wanted to touch him. He'd often wondered what it would be like. It wasn't nearly as unpleasant as he thought it would be. As a matter of fact, it wasn't unpleasant at all. He wondered if everybody who was touchy-feely used strawberry scented shampoo. 'If it wasn't for the fact that she'd go ape if she knew I was an inhuman monster, I could probably get used to this,' thought Michael Guerin.
Maria laid her head on Michael's shoulder. Intentionally she exhaled softly, warmly, against his neck. She felt the arm around her waist tighten briefly, a slight tremble in his touch.
'A diamond in the rough, huh? Well, maybe he is. He certainly isn't perfect, but I bet if I worked with him a little bit.....'
He was holding her softly, moving with the music. Isabel sighed deeply. It was better this way, so much better than the dance in the dreamwalk.
That had been nice too, she still cherished the memory. But this was real, and he was….warmer,…softer. Of course Sir Alex was off duty tonight, the chain mail armor wouldn’t be needed. Without it, he’d have probably felt something like this in the dreamwalk, too. But not this good. This was better. This was real.
‘God help any poor dragon that shows up at this gymnasium tonight’ she thought with a smile. ‘It won’t have Sir Alex to contend with, it’ll find a possessive she-alien in full attack mode. Protecting what was hers………..or soon would be.’
She could sense it growing in him. Not love, not yet, not quite, but moving in that direction with every dance step, every moment she was in his arms. And in her as well. Somehow they were bonding, she could feel it. Perhaps this is how it always happened with her people, wherever they came from.
She looked out at Michael and Maria. They made an attractive pair. Michael had always been a cute kid, although she’d always known he was like a brother to her. They were infinitely close, but not like what was happening with Alex, happening with every step they took as he held her.
Michael had been to a number of foster homes, a number of families that wanted to love him, but it just wasn’t in him. He hadn’t bonded with them, he hadn’t bonded with anyone other than with his brother Max and his sister Isabel. He kicked around the foster care system until he wound up with Hank Guerin, who expected nothing from his foster son other than a check from the state each month, a check to buy his liquor. And somehow the two found what they needed in each other, not a bond at all, not a family. Neither expected anything of the other, neither cared anything for the other, and that was alright with both of them.
She looked out at Max and Liz. Max was almost as bad. When Mom and Dad had adopted them, he wanted nothing to do with humans. Even before he could talk, she’d feel his fear of them, feel his distance from them, every time she touched him, every time they connected. It had been a year and a half before he suddenly decided to accept his parents, to accept his life in Roswell.
Maybe it was the alien y chromosome, or whatever passed for a y chromosome in their kind, she thought. Maybe the males were just kind of rogues when they were young. Maybe they were just unable to feel anything for anyone except their own blood-kin. Max and Michael had long ago made her promise that if the secret ever got out, if any of them were discovered, they would all leave Roswell, all run off somewhere to start over. And she would, she knew, if they insisted on it. But it would break her heart to leave Mom and Dad, and now…….feeling the warmth of him, as she moved her head softly against his shoulder, …to leave Alex. She couldn’t let that happen.
She looked again at Liz. ‘I was so stupid,’ she thought. ‘Four years of keeping them apart, four years of being terrorized that somehow he’d make a mistake, somehow he’d accidentally let her know, and then all three of us would have to move away. How could I possibly have forgotten.’ Her mind went back four years to the bus ride home from their first day at school. He’d looked out the window and smiled, and then touched his sisters hand. He’d told her, through the connection, that he was going to tell Mom to put away the toy house. That he had decided that this was his home, and Mom and Dad were going to be his family. That he wanted to be……human. 'How could she possibly have forgotten.'
Two weeks ago, when he watched Max kiss her forehead, tears dripping down, his eyes full of pain. She’d looked down at Liz tucked in her bed. She’d seemed so small, so helpless, her face so much like it had been in the third grade as Max had watched her through the bus window. It had all come back to her then.
Isabel didn’t know why Liz affected her brother so much. But Liz was the key. Isabel was sure of it. If she could somehow start to bond with Max, if Maria could somehow bond to Michael, maybe the boys would accept that they knew the truth without fear, maybe they wouldn't panic and run. Maybe they could start to let others in to their lives.
And then maybe Isabel Evans could keep Roswell, keep her Mom and Dad, keep the life she loved, but never loved as much as she did tonight, this minute, dancing in the arms of Alex Whitman.
That had been nice too, she still cherished the memory. But this was real, and he was….warmer,…softer. Of course Sir Alex was off duty tonight, the chain mail armor wouldn’t be needed. Without it, he’d have probably felt something like this in the dreamwalk, too. But not this good. This was better. This was real.
‘God help any poor dragon that shows up at this gymnasium tonight’ she thought with a smile. ‘It won’t have Sir Alex to contend with, it’ll find a possessive she-alien in full attack mode. Protecting what was hers………..or soon would be.’
She could sense it growing in him. Not love, not yet, not quite, but moving in that direction with every dance step, every moment she was in his arms. And in her as well. Somehow they were bonding, she could feel it. Perhaps this is how it always happened with her people, wherever they came from.
She looked out at Michael and Maria. They made an attractive pair. Michael had always been a cute kid, although she’d always known he was like a brother to her. They were infinitely close, but not like what was happening with Alex, happening with every step they took as he held her.
Michael had been to a number of foster homes, a number of families that wanted to love him, but it just wasn’t in him. He hadn’t bonded with them, he hadn’t bonded with anyone other than with his brother Max and his sister Isabel. He kicked around the foster care system until he wound up with Hank Guerin, who expected nothing from his foster son other than a check from the state each month, a check to buy his liquor. And somehow the two found what they needed in each other, not a bond at all, not a family. Neither expected anything of the other, neither cared anything for the other, and that was alright with both of them.
She looked out at Max and Liz. Max was almost as bad. When Mom and Dad had adopted them, he wanted nothing to do with humans. Even before he could talk, she’d feel his fear of them, feel his distance from them, every time she touched him, every time they connected. It had been a year and a half before he suddenly decided to accept his parents, to accept his life in Roswell.
Maybe it was the alien y chromosome, or whatever passed for a y chromosome in their kind, she thought. Maybe the males were just kind of rogues when they were young. Maybe they were just unable to feel anything for anyone except their own blood-kin. Max and Michael had long ago made her promise that if the secret ever got out, if any of them were discovered, they would all leave Roswell, all run off somewhere to start over. And she would, she knew, if they insisted on it. But it would break her heart to leave Mom and Dad, and now…….feeling the warmth of him, as she moved her head softly against his shoulder, …to leave Alex. She couldn’t let that happen.
She looked again at Liz. ‘I was so stupid,’ she thought. ‘Four years of keeping them apart, four years of being terrorized that somehow he’d make a mistake, somehow he’d accidentally let her know, and then all three of us would have to move away. How could I possibly have forgotten.’ Her mind went back four years to the bus ride home from their first day at school. He’d looked out the window and smiled, and then touched his sisters hand. He’d told her, through the connection, that he was going to tell Mom to put away the toy house. That he had decided that this was his home, and Mom and Dad were going to be his family. That he wanted to be……human. 'How could she possibly have forgotten.'
Two weeks ago, when he watched Max kiss her forehead, tears dripping down, his eyes full of pain. She’d looked down at Liz tucked in her bed. She’d seemed so small, so helpless, her face so much like it had been in the third grade as Max had watched her through the bus window. It had all come back to her then.
Isabel didn’t know why Liz affected her brother so much. But Liz was the key. Isabel was sure of it. If she could somehow start to bond with Max, if Maria could somehow bond to Michael, maybe the boys would accept that they knew the truth without fear, maybe they wouldn't panic and run. Maybe they could start to let others in to their lives.
And then maybe Isabel Evans could keep Roswell, keep her Mom and Dad, keep the life she loved, but never loved as much as she did tonight, this minute, dancing in the arms of Alex Whitman.
Last edited by greywolf on Wed Aug 02, 2006 12:42 pm, edited 1 time in total.
The plan really hadn’t included a slow dance in the darkness with her in his arms, Max thought worriedly. But in the end, it was his confidence that a closer relationship couldn’t be that sustained him. It was less painful to keep his distance, less painful to not feast his eyes on her beauty, less painful to not even dream, to tell himself he did not even want that which he knew he could never have. He could, he was sure, steel himself against her charms. It was bad enough, he thought, that the gods would choose to torment him, he mustn’t choose to torment himself.
But fate has other plans than those of mortals, human or alien. For it was conversation Liz Parker was seeking, in the dimly lit end of the gymnasium, not seduction. He might have been ready for the latter, but he was to find himself incautious in the former, precisely because he had not anticipated that a simple heartfelt conversation might win her heart as thoroughly as any attempt at romance.
“Max, I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry for what, Liz?”
“For my father. For what he said. He had no business, no business at all telling you that it was your job to protect me. I’m a big girl, Max. I may make mistakes, but they are my mistakes, and he shouldn’t expect my date to have to defend me, from myself, or from anybody else. He was wrong, Max. He was terribly wrong to do that to you.”
It seemed so innocent a conversation, so unthreatening.
Max thought back, remembering Jeff Parker, his hand holding that of his wife, his voice so earnest, so heartfelt, telling Max Evans of his love for his daughter, his desire for her to be safe, to be always cared for, to be always honored……How could Liz fault that?
It was a strange subject to fight over, there in the darkness with her in his arms. But somehow he couldn’t let it pass. So he spoke from his heart, never anticipating the consequences of that speech, too inexperienced to understand that when you speak from your heart, it might find resonance in the heart of another.
“I’m sorry Liz, but you are wrong. You are dead wrong. There was nothing wrong with what your father said to me. If I were ever fortunate enough to have a daughter, a daughter that would be as loved and important to me as you are to him, I’d do the same thing. Every boy that took her out, I’d be there, with my wife at my side, holding her hand, to give him that speech. To tell him how much our daughter was loved. To tell him that he was being trusted to care for our precious child until she could be returned safely to us, to tell him how very important, how very essential that responsibility was.”
It almost sounded like an argument. It sounded like the start of a lover’s spat. But as she suddenly looked into his big brown eyes Liz Parker found herself smiling as she noticed just how similar Max Evans and Jeff Parker were in so many ways. And the words sunk deep into her soul.
And then, welling up from her soul came the thought, the thought that she hadn’t really even meant to think. The thought that had been part of no plan, no conscious decision, just a thought from the heart, unthinking and unknowing of the consequences. A thought provoked by the words of the young man before her, and by the passion with which he had spoken.
She looked at the young man in her arms and the thought leaped into her consciousness without warning.
She knew that she never wanted to hear that lecture from her father again. She knew that she never wanted to date any other boy at all.
She had seen in her mind the picture he had built, him standing there, his wife at his side, their daughter before them, likely embarrassed beyond belief. And she knew that she wanted, more than she had ever wanted anything in the 13 years she had lived, for it to be HER standing at his side, and THEIR daughter blushing in embarrassment before them.
And as that thought welled up into her consciousness she gripped both of his hands, not even thinking of what she was doing, and pulled him to her, kissing him on the lips.
As their lips touched Max Evans stiffened. His eyes went wide with amazement, confusion, fear, almost terror, and he pulled his mouth abruptly away. He seemed almost to convulse, and he pulled his hands away from her, gazing at her wide-eyed. Liz looked at him and thought, ‘What have I done? What have I done,’ as she backed away from the terrified Max Evans.
The slow dance ended and the next song was played. The floor was soon crowded with other couples, but Max and Liz just stood there, barely moving, and watching each other with wary eyes.
But fate has other plans than those of mortals, human or alien. For it was conversation Liz Parker was seeking, in the dimly lit end of the gymnasium, not seduction. He might have been ready for the latter, but he was to find himself incautious in the former, precisely because he had not anticipated that a simple heartfelt conversation might win her heart as thoroughly as any attempt at romance.
“Max, I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry for what, Liz?”
“For my father. For what he said. He had no business, no business at all telling you that it was your job to protect me. I’m a big girl, Max. I may make mistakes, but they are my mistakes, and he shouldn’t expect my date to have to defend me, from myself, or from anybody else. He was wrong, Max. He was terribly wrong to do that to you.”
It seemed so innocent a conversation, so unthreatening.
Max thought back, remembering Jeff Parker, his hand holding that of his wife, his voice so earnest, so heartfelt, telling Max Evans of his love for his daughter, his desire for her to be safe, to be always cared for, to be always honored……How could Liz fault that?
It was a strange subject to fight over, there in the darkness with her in his arms. But somehow he couldn’t let it pass. So he spoke from his heart, never anticipating the consequences of that speech, too inexperienced to understand that when you speak from your heart, it might find resonance in the heart of another.
“I’m sorry Liz, but you are wrong. You are dead wrong. There was nothing wrong with what your father said to me. If I were ever fortunate enough to have a daughter, a daughter that would be as loved and important to me as you are to him, I’d do the same thing. Every boy that took her out, I’d be there, with my wife at my side, holding her hand, to give him that speech. To tell him how much our daughter was loved. To tell him that he was being trusted to care for our precious child until she could be returned safely to us, to tell him how very important, how very essential that responsibility was.”
It almost sounded like an argument. It sounded like the start of a lover’s spat. But as she suddenly looked into his big brown eyes Liz Parker found herself smiling as she noticed just how similar Max Evans and Jeff Parker were in so many ways. And the words sunk deep into her soul.
And then, welling up from her soul came the thought, the thought that she hadn’t really even meant to think. The thought that had been part of no plan, no conscious decision, just a thought from the heart, unthinking and unknowing of the consequences. A thought provoked by the words of the young man before her, and by the passion with which he had spoken.
She looked at the young man in her arms and the thought leaped into her consciousness without warning.
She knew that she never wanted to hear that lecture from her father again. She knew that she never wanted to date any other boy at all.
She had seen in her mind the picture he had built, him standing there, his wife at his side, their daughter before them, likely embarrassed beyond belief. And she knew that she wanted, more than she had ever wanted anything in the 13 years she had lived, for it to be HER standing at his side, and THEIR daughter blushing in embarrassment before them.
And as that thought welled up into her consciousness she gripped both of his hands, not even thinking of what she was doing, and pulled him to her, kissing him on the lips.
As their lips touched Max Evans stiffened. His eyes went wide with amazement, confusion, fear, almost terror, and he pulled his mouth abruptly away. He seemed almost to convulse, and he pulled his hands away from her, gazing at her wide-eyed. Liz looked at him and thought, ‘What have I done? What have I done,’ as she backed away from the terrified Max Evans.
The slow dance ended and the next song was played. The floor was soon crowded with other couples, but Max and Liz just stood there, barely moving, and watching each other with wary eyes.
The tenets of Max Evans existence since the night he had been found walking along the road with his sister a lifetime ago were simple.
I am different
I can never be truly accepted by them
I can never truly trust them
I will never really belong
Even a year and a half of care and love by two parents, even the example of his sister and knowing her closeness to their parents had left these tenets unshaken until the day he’d seen….her.
And even then they’d never really changed, it was just that life was less unpleasant when she was around. Since third grade being near her had made life bearable, the one island of happiness in a sea of despair. But he had always felt guilty about it, knowing that if she’d ever found the truth, knowing that if she’d ever guessed the truth, knowing how she would then run away from him, run away from the inhuman monster that no one could accept. But he’d dealt with the guilt for years, because the alternative was worse. It had been selfish, he knew, but he had needed that island of happiness in his life so much.
And the guilt had grown as they had grown, grown to the point where innocent childhood friendships became changed forever by the surge of hormones that sought to prepare them for a future when they would be more than casual friends.
The thought came unbidden to his mind, fifth grade nutrition and health, the 45 minutes after lunch. It had seemed kind of nice at first when the random lottery of a classroom seating chart had placed him across from her in the adjacent row. And even the teacher had seemed amused for five weeks as the two shyest kids in the class, the two kids with the highest grades in the class, had engaged in their little rivalry. One wanted to be a doctor when he grew up, the other a molecular biologist. And for five weeks the rivalry had been intense as waving hands would fly to be the first to answer any question, ‘What was a protein? What were vitamins? Who can name the essential amino acids?’ The two shyest kids in class could come out of their shells, just for 45 minutes a day, in this gentle rivalry.
But then it had happened as the module on human nutrition finished and the module on human sexuality started. The Evans’ had told their children the “facts of life,” and there was little in the academics that Max didn’t already know. He was unprepared, however, to hear these facts repeated …publicly…with her at his side.
It had been a different competition then. ‘Who can blush the brightest?’ ‘Who can pretend the best that they really didn’t hear what the teacher was asking, that they really didn’t know the answer?’ ‘Who can study their desktop the most intensely, memorizing every old nick and scratch, every old name, every bit of graffiti ever placed on it?’
And it was then the real guilt had started, because he knew she cared. By being there he was stealing her dreams, stealing her future. He could have tolerated the gods punishing Max Evans, because Max Evans was a monster and deserved it. But then he’d started to realize the gods were also punishing her.
And that, even more than Izzie’s fears about losing her mother and father had been what had let him walk away that day when he knew, he knew in the core of his being, Liz wanted to be invited to that dance, wanted to be invited by him. He couldn’t let the gods torment her too, his torment was bad enough. He couldn't let her get close, knowing it could never be. It was his guilt that led him to reject her and the results of that rejection had lead to even more guilt at what had happened to her.
But now, the kiss.......
Chaos reigned in the brain of Max Evans right now. But he was trying to get it back. His mind continued to try to reset, like a computer trying to reboot, going back to the basic truths as the operating system tried to recover from the effects of that kiss.
I am different
I can never be truly accepted by them
I can never truly trust them
I will never really belong
I am different
I can never be truly accepted by them
I can never truly trust them
I will never really belong
Even a year and a half of care and love by two parents, even the example of his sister and knowing her closeness to their parents had left these tenets unshaken until the day he’d seen….her.
And even then they’d never really changed, it was just that life was less unpleasant when she was around. Since third grade being near her had made life bearable, the one island of happiness in a sea of despair. But he had always felt guilty about it, knowing that if she’d ever found the truth, knowing that if she’d ever guessed the truth, knowing how she would then run away from him, run away from the inhuman monster that no one could accept. But he’d dealt with the guilt for years, because the alternative was worse. It had been selfish, he knew, but he had needed that island of happiness in his life so much.
And the guilt had grown as they had grown, grown to the point where innocent childhood friendships became changed forever by the surge of hormones that sought to prepare them for a future when they would be more than casual friends.
The thought came unbidden to his mind, fifth grade nutrition and health, the 45 minutes after lunch. It had seemed kind of nice at first when the random lottery of a classroom seating chart had placed him across from her in the adjacent row. And even the teacher had seemed amused for five weeks as the two shyest kids in the class, the two kids with the highest grades in the class, had engaged in their little rivalry. One wanted to be a doctor when he grew up, the other a molecular biologist. And for five weeks the rivalry had been intense as waving hands would fly to be the first to answer any question, ‘What was a protein? What were vitamins? Who can name the essential amino acids?’ The two shyest kids in class could come out of their shells, just for 45 minutes a day, in this gentle rivalry.
But then it had happened as the module on human nutrition finished and the module on human sexuality started. The Evans’ had told their children the “facts of life,” and there was little in the academics that Max didn’t already know. He was unprepared, however, to hear these facts repeated …publicly…with her at his side.
It had been a different competition then. ‘Who can blush the brightest?’ ‘Who can pretend the best that they really didn’t hear what the teacher was asking, that they really didn’t know the answer?’ ‘Who can study their desktop the most intensely, memorizing every old nick and scratch, every old name, every bit of graffiti ever placed on it?’
And it was then the real guilt had started, because he knew she cared. By being there he was stealing her dreams, stealing her future. He could have tolerated the gods punishing Max Evans, because Max Evans was a monster and deserved it. But then he’d started to realize the gods were also punishing her.
And that, even more than Izzie’s fears about losing her mother and father had been what had let him walk away that day when he knew, he knew in the core of his being, Liz wanted to be invited to that dance, wanted to be invited by him. He couldn’t let the gods torment her too, his torment was bad enough. He couldn't let her get close, knowing it could never be. It was his guilt that led him to reject her and the results of that rejection had lead to even more guilt at what had happened to her.
But now, the kiss.......
Chaos reigned in the brain of Max Evans right now. But he was trying to get it back. His mind continued to try to reset, like a computer trying to reboot, going back to the basic truths as the operating system tried to recover from the effects of that kiss.
I am different
I can never be truly accepted by them
I can never truly trust them
I will never really belong
Maria snuggled a little closer as they danced to the slow music. He had a kind of wild dance style with the fast tunes that she really hadn’t figured out yet. Actually, she really hadn’t figured out if that style could be figured out.
But he’d sure figured out this slow dancing quickly enough. They had already gotten a disapproving look from Principal Gordon. But then Officer Daniels had given her a sly wink, which kind of offset that as she’d waltzed Michael by the young officer.
By the end of this dance, Maria figured she would have knocked a few of the rougher edges off her diamond-in-the-rough.
But what was that with Max and Liz?
She’d watched her best friend maneuver him over into the darkness on that first slow dance. She’d been afraid they were arguing about something, until she saw her shy best friend plant a kiss on his lips…..where had THAT come from....?
But you’d have thought that it had been a snakebite hitting him, the way Max had reacted. And what was it with him the last hour? It was like Liz was dancing with a zombie out there. He didn’t speak to her, he didn’t even seem to really be looking at her. It was like he was lost in a world of his own, a world she wasn’t part of. She didn’t know why Liz was putting up with that. By now, she’d have either cornered him and told him off, or just walked out on him.
She knew Izzie’s plan was for them to just gradually get the boys more comfortable with them. It seemed to be working with Michael, and it was damn sure working between Izzie and Alex. Principal Gordon had been watching them in disbelief for a half hour now.
But Max was the key, and right now he was treating her best friend like wallpaper. She’d normally have gone over and stuck her nose in to it by now, but she figured it was a problem that only Liz could really solve.
Besides, it was awful….comfortable here.
Michael looked down at the yellow curls on his shoulder. When he’d agreed to do this he’d told Izzie that she really owed him one for going through with it.
He breathed in the smell of the strawberry shampoo again. Maybe Izzie didn’t owe him all that much after all. He wondered how well she knew Maria. Maybe they could all hang out together sometime. That’d be cool. Especially if Izzie really couldn’t stay that long.
But he’d sure figured out this slow dancing quickly enough. They had already gotten a disapproving look from Principal Gordon. But then Officer Daniels had given her a sly wink, which kind of offset that as she’d waltzed Michael by the young officer.
By the end of this dance, Maria figured she would have knocked a few of the rougher edges off her diamond-in-the-rough.
But what was that with Max and Liz?
She’d watched her best friend maneuver him over into the darkness on that first slow dance. She’d been afraid they were arguing about something, until she saw her shy best friend plant a kiss on his lips…..where had THAT come from....?
But you’d have thought that it had been a snakebite hitting him, the way Max had reacted. And what was it with him the last hour? It was like Liz was dancing with a zombie out there. He didn’t speak to her, he didn’t even seem to really be looking at her. It was like he was lost in a world of his own, a world she wasn’t part of. She didn’t know why Liz was putting up with that. By now, she’d have either cornered him and told him off, or just walked out on him.
She knew Izzie’s plan was for them to just gradually get the boys more comfortable with them. It seemed to be working with Michael, and it was damn sure working between Izzie and Alex. Principal Gordon had been watching them in disbelief for a half hour now.
But Max was the key, and right now he was treating her best friend like wallpaper. She’d normally have gone over and stuck her nose in to it by now, but she figured it was a problem that only Liz could really solve.
Besides, it was awful….comfortable here.
Michael looked down at the yellow curls on his shoulder. When he’d agreed to do this he’d told Izzie that she really owed him one for going through with it.
He breathed in the smell of the strawberry shampoo again. Maybe Izzie didn’t owe him all that much after all. He wondered how well she knew Maria. Maybe they could all hang out together sometime. That’d be cool. Especially if Izzie really couldn’t stay that long.
Isabel was having the time of her life. Alex had great rhythm, and knew almost all of the songs, even the slow ones.
She thought about the conversation that morning, when three members of the Ice Princess posse had confronted her, somewhat concerned that she was demeaning herself by actually inviting a boy at all, but understanding it was a Sadie Hawkins dance. But they were begging her to dispel the ugly rumor going around that she’d actually invited Alex Whitman, who one had described as “a computer geek and music freak.”
It had struck her then just what a bunch of superficial bitches she’d been running with.
She realized that she and Michael were kind of alike. He had a superficial relationship with Hank, a non-relationship really. She’d had a superficial relationship with the girls on the posse, pretty much just to pass the time.
She’d never really believed that she could have real friends like Liz and Maria. ‘Or a real boyfriend she thought’, looking lovingly up at Alex. How she’d loved being with Liz and Maria this past week. ‘And Alex….,’ she sighed, ‘being with Alex was better than Christmas.’
Isabel looked at Michael and Maria and smiled. THAT seemed to be progressing nicely. But a frown came to her face as she looked at her brother and Liz. Shouldn’t you touch occasionally when you dance? Shouldn’t you talk? Or at least make eye contact? She felt herself mentally cheering Liz on, ‘Come on gal….., whatever it is you do to him, whatever it is that only you can do to him, don’t hold back now.’
She thought about the conversation that morning, when three members of the Ice Princess posse had confronted her, somewhat concerned that she was demeaning herself by actually inviting a boy at all, but understanding it was a Sadie Hawkins dance. But they were begging her to dispel the ugly rumor going around that she’d actually invited Alex Whitman, who one had described as “a computer geek and music freak.”
It had struck her then just what a bunch of superficial bitches she’d been running with.
She realized that she and Michael were kind of alike. He had a superficial relationship with Hank, a non-relationship really. She’d had a superficial relationship with the girls on the posse, pretty much just to pass the time.
She’d never really believed that she could have real friends like Liz and Maria. ‘Or a real boyfriend she thought’, looking lovingly up at Alex. How she’d loved being with Liz and Maria this past week. ‘And Alex….,’ she sighed, ‘being with Alex was better than Christmas.’
Isabel looked at Michael and Maria and smiled. THAT seemed to be progressing nicely. But a frown came to her face as she looked at her brother and Liz. Shouldn’t you touch occasionally when you dance? Shouldn’t you talk? Or at least make eye contact? She felt herself mentally cheering Liz on, ‘Come on gal….., whatever it is you do to him, whatever it is that only you can do to him, don’t hold back now.’