Rating: PG-13
Category: T/K, M/L, CC
Spoilers: "Viva Las Vegas"
Disclaimer: I in no way own Roswell.
But I'm
interested in buying the woozle…
Sometimes, things in life make absolutely
no sense.
They blind side you, leaving you helpless.
Other
times things seem way too similar to things
in the
past.
I didn't want to go to Vegas. But Maria
with her
bubbliness and well, Maria-ness, talked
me into it.
Off I went to the land of themed casinos,
showgirls,
and wedding chapels. And I really,
really, really,
don't want to think about the wedding chapels.
I saw
an advertisement for the Elvis chapel, and
I
practically broke down in front of everyone.
But
wedding chapels- I guess you could say that's
what
made this trip interesting……or a nightmare.
The first mistake came when Michael gave
us fake id's.
As if a bunch of seventeen and eighteen
year olds
aren't going to go and do what they shouldn't.
Especially knowing my ex-boyfriend, who-
I can tell
you from experience- loved getting drunk.
I held his
head one too many times over the porcelain
throne.
But surprisingly, Kyle wasn't the instigator
of the
alcoholic madness this time. He was
part of the
consequence.
The blame lay directly on the shoulders of
the pixie
queen herself, Maria. Not that I don't
love her, but
her crazy sense of adventure has gotten
me into
trouble more than a few times in the past.
The only
time I had detention in middle school was
due to her
brilliant plan to get Spice Girls tickets.
We were
going to skip class and hitchhike to Albuquerque
to
get front row tickets. We didn't make
it out of the
building, and my parent's didn't take kindly
to my
detention.
Maria bought herself a margarita. Now
hey, I
understand why she did and all- who wouldn't
want to
break the rules and get away with it?
But it's what she did with the drink that
caused the
madness.
She let Tess have a sip.
And all hell broke loose.
***
"Liz?" Tess walked towards me with
a goofy look on
her face. "You're pretty. Pretty
pretty pretty."
I didn't know what to say. Now Tess
and I have
reached the point of acting civil to each
other, and
we can even work together to save our friends,
but
there is no love lost between us.
We tolerate each
other- me because I know that for some twisted
reason,
the world needs her to keep on turning,
and her
because she's managed to weasel her way
into my circle
of friends. She likes it here, and
I don't see her
leaving.
"Ok…" I stated, noticing her eyes look
a little
weird.
"I mean, you're pretty. You have dark
hair, and
you're smart, and everybody loves you.
Everybody
loves you. Max loves you. Heck, you're
the sweetheart
of Roswell. Perfect, perfect, perfect
in every, every
way."
I have definitely left Las Vegas and tripped
into the
Twilight Zone.
"And you know what?" She says, plopping
down
ungracefully on the chair beside me.
"I think Kyle
loves you too. He dated you and all,
and in his
diary, if you read it, it's all like 'I
Love Liz' and
I thought it was funny that he even kept
a diary, but
he keeps spiritual books next to naughty,
naughty,
magazines!" She chirps. Then
Tess starts to laugh
hysterically.
I have surely been given too much information.
"Tess are you, well, ok?"
"I've never been better, you know?
It's like a little
bit of a party in one bang…"
"What happened to you?"
She giggled. "I'm drunk!"
Oh great.
Last year, Max was the inebriated alien.
This year,
it's my job to make sure Tess doesn't do
anything too
foolish in her drunken stupor. But
maybe it would
serve her right if she did…
"Where did you get the drink, Tess?"
"I tried some of Maria's. To see if
I wanted to buy
one of my own."
Maria must have forgotten the key rule when
dealing
with our favorite Czechs. Alcohol
is a no no.
Tess is drunk, very drunk, off of one sip.
"Come on, Tess" I exclaimed, grabbing
her arm.
"Where are we going? Are we gonna see
the Wizard of
Oz?"
I sigh. I needed help. Fast.
"Whatever you want, Goldilocks."
****
I lost Tess as we were going through the
Casino. Not
a good idea, I know, but you try keeping
up with a
drunk alien. And yes, she was more
annoying drunk
than sober.
I felt terrible. Spazzy. I don't
like to stress, to
spazz out. I usually leave it to Maria,
because she
has the magical cedar oil.
But I had just lost a drunk alien.
A drunk female alien who would lose any amount
of
inhibition. A drunk female alien who
would do or say
anything and not remember it the next day.
"Shii.."
I was interrupted by Alex running up to me
in a panic.
"I lost Kyle."
"You did what?" I squeaked.
"I lost Kyle." He repeated.
"How could you lose Kyle? He's a 160
pounds of
Greco-Roman wrestler for crying out loud.
They don't
just disappear!"
"It gets worse."
"How?" I sighed.
"He was drunk."
"I thought he gave all that up. Did
he fall off the
Buddha wagon?"
"I spiked his drink…he always used to be
so much fun
to watch when he was drunk, back when you
were going
out…"
"ALEXANDER CHARLES WHITMAN!" I shriek,
not caring
that the entire casino is looking at me.
"Do you have
any idea what you've done? Kyle didn't
just give up
alcohol because of the Buddhism, he gave
it up because
he can't handle it anymore."
"He went soft?"
"No, the healing, remember?"
"So people that get healed have the alcohol
thing
too?"
"Sometime later, you can ask Maria about
New Years
last year, ok? So where did you lose
him?"
"I was walking him back to the room."