![Image](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/0803/babybrebre/friendshipsonfire.jpg)
Title: Friendship on Fire
Author: Baby_Bre
Genre: AU
Couples: M/L
Rating: Teen/Mature
Disclaimer: The characters of Roswell do not belong to me. It belongs to Jason Katims, Melinda Metz and some other peoples.
Summary: Sometimes it takes almost losing someone to realize how much they really mean to you.
Author’s Note: As always this fic is written for the lovely and not mention talented ladies, Ruby and Elena
![Smile :)](./images/smilies/icon_smile.gif)
![Smile :)](./images/smilies/icon_smile.gif)
Chapter One
Max and I have been bestest friends forever. I was four when our parents had us play together and since then I don't think we've went longer then a few days without speaking. We're inseparable and I like it that way. The problem is that lately it feels like Max is pulling further and further away from me.
So maybe I'm being just a little paranoid but ever since he had his braces taken off, got a haircut, and started dressing in cuter clothes the girls of West Roswell High have all over him. I know that I'm only his best friend and not his mother or anything, but I don't want him to leave me. Okay, that does sound a little clingy but I hate how the In-Crowd is all of the sudden accepting him into their social circle.
What if Max decides that I'm not cool enough to hang out with him anymore? I mean I would never ditch him to hang out with a bunch of snobs. And come on, what would he even want with those types anyhow? Maria Deluca, Tess Harding, Pam Troy, and Isabel Evans may be beautiful but they don't have hearts.
Alright I'll admit that's a little rude since Isabel and Maria can be nice, and Isabel is even Max's younger sister but I don't care. Where were they when Kyle Valenti, Michael Guerin, and Alex Whitman (the jocks of West Roswell High) jumped Max last year? Huh? Where were they then? Oh yeah now I remember, they were laughing their mini skirt clad asses off.
Besides it's not as if he has anything in common with them. Sure they're nice to look at but all I ever hear them talk about is their next trip to the mall. So what could he possibly find to talk about with them?
'Well, they probably won't be doing a whole lot of talking,' The little voice in my head points out and I scrunch up my face.
Can I just say ewwwww!? I don't even want to imagine my best friend, the boy I used to make mud pies with, who used to put spiders in my shoes, and who I had ice cream eating contests with getting freaky with one of those fake barbie dolls.
It's so unfair! Why does Max feels like he needs to be accepted by those people? They'll never care about him like Katya and I do. They'll never understand him or worry about him or comfort him when he's upset. They only want to use him and make him feel special until they're bored with him, and then he'll be tossed aside like yesterday's trash. I've seen it happen to lots of people and I don't want to see it happen to Max.
My best friend is someone who deserves better then those people. He deserves the type of friends who will care about him and want to listen to his opinions and support him in his decisions (aside from this one!). The A-list crowd people are definitely not the type of friends who are going to stick by him. I want to tell all of this to Max but I know he'll say I need to chill and that I'm only worked up over this because of how mean Pam Troy was to me last year.
"Parker," Max's voice interrupts my thoughts and I notice that we've arrived at school. "Are you coming or are ya gonna sit in the jeep all day?" he asks.
"Huh? Oh... yeah." I mumble and get down from the jeep. I love Max's jeep and I've been lucky enough to ride to school in it everyday since Max got his license. I was so jealous at first that his parents bought him a jeep when my parents hardly celebrated my birthday that year, but then I did get shot gun privileges so now all is cool.
"Senior year is going to be a total blast!" Katya says, coming up behind us as we head towards our lockers. I adore Katya, she's the only female I can stand. Although, with her good looks and contagious smile, I can't help but feel a little discontented with myself when I look at her. And I'm not the only one that feels that way and loves her. Everyone at school does as well, even the robotic people.
I watch Max nod out the corner of my eyes and I can't help wondering what's going to be so special about this year. For me it feels no different then the last three years, but then I'm not Max and I'm definitely not Katya. Max is now so high up there on that stupid social ladder and Katya always has been. I, on the other hand am still mousy Liz Parker; someone no one pays any attention to unless they're busy trying to copy off me in class.
Sometimes when I'm really sad I think about the fact that Katya wouldn't be friends with me if it hadn't been for the fact that we met when we were eight. That was before make up, social ladders, in crowds, and designer labels. We were just kids having fun, and we both liked playing in the mud, throwing dirt and grass at other kids, and picking on poor Max.
Then we hit middle school and we realized how different we were. How plain I looked in comparison to her, and how guys never stared at me the way they did her. Maybe it was only me who noticed this but still. I know I'd hate Katya if I didn't love her so much, if I didn't know that she's really a good person with morals and standards and beliefs. Unlike everyone else in this school she's true to herself through and through and won't compromise who she is just to get ahead.
"You don't think it's going to be an awesome year?" She asks as I'm reaching into my locker for my Economics textbook.
I shrug my shoulders and look at her, "I guess."
"You don't sound too convinced." She tells me with a smile and I roll my eyes.
"Maybe because for some of us it's just going to be like any other year," I reply.
"What do you mean?" Max butts into our conversation. Which is nothing new, he never knows when to keep quiet.
"I know that it's just going to be like the last three years, I know all year I'll be day dreaming about college where I won't have to deal with stupid people who think about stupid things." I say, going back to getting my books because I don't want to continue this conversation anymore. I hate feeling like the black cloud all the time, but that's the way it usually goes. I don't want to ruin they're fun, but I know that that's probably what I do all the time.