Disclaimer; The characters of Roswell are not mine, nor do I lay any type
of claim on them.
Notes; I'm always looking for ways to bring Alex into my fiction. I was pissed that they killed him off, though not as much as my little sister;)
Anyway, I was watching Blood Brother the other day, and it occurred to me........how must Alex have felt during this?
I mean, his two best friends start acting weird, then ask him for a blood sample......then his guidance counsellor starts getting all weird with him as well.......what was he thinking?
I'm a huge Max fan, but this was just begging to be written [ I am aware that other people may have had similar ideas, but I haven't found any, so......sorry **shrug**]
Well, here's my attempt at figuring it out.
Feedback is appreciated.
Please note, I have no spell checker or Beta reader. Any and all mistakes are my own.
*This* equals emphasis.
Sentences written in slightly larger text, are actual dialogue, taken from the episode.
~~~~~~~ Denotes flashback start, and end.
##### Denotes a passage of time [ie, next day.]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That's it Alex, I counsel myself. Don't look back. Just walk away, and don't. Look. Back.
As I moved, never once turning to the group I'm trying to get away from, other pieces of advice occur to me. Try *not* to walk into the nurses. Watch the wheelchairs. Don't barf at the sight of so much blood.
No, I'm not crazy. I'm just trying to navigate the waiting room of Roswell Memorial Hospital......no, I'm not a patient. More like.....an unwilling visitor.
Maybe I should start at the beginning.
I'm Alex Whitman. The person I'm walking away from?..........that's Liz Parker. One of my two best friends. And one of the major players in this big mess.
If there was one thing that I had learned about Liz Parker over the years, it was that sometimes, a little guilt went a long way. And that suited my purposes fine.
Not exactly the kind of treatment you want to give to one of your best friends, but hey, I was getting desperate at this point. What the hell was going on? ............Wanna know what I'm babbling about?
To put it quite simply, my problem is, that those two best friends I mentioned? Well, they've been acting........strange.
And all I know is that Liz and Maria [those friends I mentioned] have been having these weird, secret conversations, talking about countries that didn't exsist anymore, and all in all, acting -- make that TRYING to act -- covertly, for weeks now.
Though it wasn't really working, obviously........my suspicions had been aroused.
I didn't know if it was just her nature, or if she was just really bad at it, but I have a feeling my little buddy Ms. DeLuca, couldn't be covert about anything.
But wait. I'm getting off track.
Where was I? Ah yes. Pulling a guilt trip on Liz Parker. Why you may ask.
Well, it had all started when I was talking to some guys at school.............
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Earlier Today
Maria appeared behind me, just in time to prove some point I was making, about the fact that girls like musicians. I don't know what it is.......Maybe it's the creativity, or just the whole instrument
thing --- whoa, off track there -- again. Anyway, she grabbed me, saying I was needed.
I followed blindly, like the dutiful, though confused friend that I am, all the while trying to get Maria to tell me what was going on.
We got to the Jetta and lumbered off. In between bouts of praying that the damn rust bucket we were in didn't fall apart, Maria filled me in, though it was in typical Maria DeLuca fashion.
"Liz. Max. Car accident. Hospital. Liz fine. Max not. Tell you the rest when we get there."
The words were spat out rapidly, and I barely caught them as they whizzed past.
Oka-a-a-y. Maria was obviously freaked. My own heartbeat was moving pretty fast, but calmed down when I realised that Liz was fine.
But what was this about Max? Max EVANS? That quiet kid at school? Sure, I'd seen him around with Liz a few times recently, but......what were they doing out of school........in a car........together?
All thought was then suspended for a moment, as Maria braked the car. *Hard.*
After making sure that my heart was in my chest where it belonged, as opposed to my throat where it had just rapidly crawled, I said something.......I think. It may have been
something about how utterly stupid it would be if we ended up in the hospital as patients too, it may have been something about being to young to die, I can't be sure. The blood was pounding in my ears, making it a bit hard to actually hear anything. But after that, Maria actually drove like a sane person.
We arrived -- miraculously in one piece -- and went in. Maria asked around, and we found out where Max was, figuring Liz wouldn't be far away.
Maria's words as we entered the ward were,
"Oh my God."
I wasn't sure if she was remarking with relief at seeing Liz, apparently uninjured, or the sight of Max Evans on a hospital gurney, eyes closed and probably unsconcious. Personally, the words began dancing around in *my* head, when I saw *her.*
Isabel Evans.
She looked worried, and my heart went out to her. I'd seen the Evans kids around school with
that ...........Garin? Guerin? Yeah, Michael Guerin. And they always seemed so close.
My thoughts turned away from the gorgeous, model like, mysterious blond bea --- well, you get the idea. And turned to Liz.
She looked pale, shaken up. Perfectly normal under the circumstances, I thought.
But I remember thinking.......other than moral support, what did she need me for? Because I had this.......feeling, that it was nothing to do with support.
And I just *had* to ask, didn't I? When Liz moved forward, and leaned up to my ear, I don't think in any of my wildest imaginings that I could of guessed what she was about to ask. She murmured it quietly in my ear, and believe me, if Isabel Evans had walked up and asked me to....I don't know, go stargazing with her or something, I don't think I could have been more suprised.
"I need your blood."
The words 'hey, fine,' almost rolled of my tongue automatically, before her request sank into my brain. My *blood?*
I couldn't wrap my mind around it. But when I looked up, and I saw the naked *fear* on Isabel Evans face as she stroked the dark hair of her brother --- so much the opposite
of her own, thick, blond hair --- I found myself nodding quietly.
The next thing I knew, I was sitting on an uncomfortable chair in the middle of a corridor.
Maria was on 'lookout,' and Liz was about to stick a *big* needle in my arm. My friend Liz.
My 'not trained as a nurse or a doctor,' friend. My 'no medical experience *whatsoever,* ' friend, was about to stick a needle, into my arm, hoping that she got a vein, potentially hitting an artery.......if there were any there.
"Okay, I have any number of reservations, at this particular moment."
I tried to keep the fear out of my voice, but I didn't think I'd been successful.
"No, it's fine Alex. I volunteered here last summer, I saw them do this like a thousand times."
The confidence in Liz's voice was just somehow, not that reassuring.
Yeah Liz, I remember finding myself thinking. My mom's seen Noah Wylie do any number of surgical procedures on E.R. But the day I let her come within three feet of me, wielding a scalpel, is the day......is the day you, me and Maria, start dating aliens. The day....I don't know, I score a date with Isabel Evans. It's never gonna happen.
As my thoughts turned briefly to Isabel Evans again -- so what, I'm predictable -- my mind tried to figure out what could possibly be going on.
"God, what are you people hiding?"
The words slipped out on their own, and I didn't really expect an answer at this point, though Liz promised to tell me later. I heard her, but didn't look up. My eyes were trained downward, watching Liz, the one with no medical certificate, and the needle once again heading towards my tender flesh.
I tried once more to persuade her not to do this, and she in turn, tried to assuage my fears. All further pleading -- at least on my part -- was cut short as Maria suddenly turned, warning us of incoming.
All this had no real significance as I watched Isabel Evans, the most gorgeous girl in school [ in my teenaged, hormonally ravaged opinion] approach *me.*
"It would be best if you didn't look."
God, even her voice was beautiful.
Look? I could hardly take my eyes off of her.
That was until she grabbed hold of the needle, minus the gloves Liz was wearing, and touched my arm.
MY. ARM.
Suddenly, I *had* to look away, just so she wouldn't see my face go red.
Liz thanked me, and I opened my tightly closed eyes, and stared at her. I heard Isabel tell me it would sting a little, and boy, did it sting.
Now, it could of been my close proximity to a Goddess [ when did I get so geeky?.....At least, geeky internally, as well.]
Or maybe my complete and utter confusion over what on Earth was going on with my two best friends. But I would swear that where Isabel was touching my arm was.......tingling.
I was actually convinced that, should I turn around, I would see my skin........glow, or something. Hormones. While I was puzzling this, I realised Isabel was finished.
The blood was whisked away swiftly by a strangely silent Maria, while Liz settled in the chair next to me.
Isabel began pacing, and I couldn't help but wonder two things. One; how the hell does she look so good, even in the midst of such emotional turmoil [ Emotional turmoil?......Gotta stop watching those soaps with Maria.....but hey, I'm a guy......and she looked GOOD. ]
And two; how the hell did she balance on those shoes? They looked like big blocks attached to the soles of her feet. Forget how they made her legs look in those tight ......pants........where was I?
Once again, I plead guilty to being male. Even the *memory* is enough to render me speechless......no mean feat, I assure you.
Anyway, I was sitting there, knee jiggling nervously, fingers twitching.
Liz and Maria were studiously avoiding eye contact. Guerin was....I don't know, even thinking it over now, I can't quite put my finger on it. Glaring? Assessing?....... me with his eyes.
It's quite an unnerving sight actually. Though, I suppose that's the general idea.
I often wondered how they all hooked up. Max and Isabel Evans, not exactly poor. Brilliant grades, nice demeanours, popular.......well, Isabel was. Max was quietly popular.......liked by just about all, but not very social about it. All the qualities that parents sit up at night and wish for their children to possess.
And Michael Guerin. Okay grades, when he bothered to turn up. Not exactly the most personable or outgoing type ever. How did they get together? Could be 'cause they're all adopted, I guessed. Maybe they felt a certain.....what is it called? A kinship, or something. Whatever. All I knew, is that they have a friendship as tight as the one I share with Maria and Liz. Thinking back now, should that have been shared?
After what felt like hours, Liz turned to me. I remember thinking, 'At last. Finally. I'm getting some answers.' But no.
Liz thought that I should go home. Liz also thought that I was going to do the blood donor routine, and other things for her new friends, with no questions asked.......... Well, maybe she had been right about me doing things for her, but I WAS going to ask questions, and I made up my mind to get answers.
I mean, I would help her for now, so long as it wasn't illegal......that's when it hit me.......*illegal.*
"Liz, what I just did, I could get *arrested* for. And that's all you have to say? Any of you?"
I directed the last part to Maria as well.
"She said go home."
Oh, look, I had joked internally. Michael speaks. I had wondered on several occasions if it were possible. Of course, it was just my luck that the first words out of his mouth were in a threatening tone, and of course, directed at me. The joy I had felt at this revelation, was just.........unmeasurable.
I recall making a crack about the great new friends Liz had, and got up, the chain hanging from my pants making a jingling noise that sounded oddly loud in the nearly silent corridor.
Liz followed me, telling me to wait. I informed her of the obvious, that I'd *been* waiting.
Liz wanted me to know that 'it's complicated, okay?'
Complicated? More like criminal!
I let her know that no, it's wasn't okay.
Liz informed me that I had to trust her. Instead of asking her to just take her own advice and do the same, I started throwing out ideas for her recent behaviour.
I asked her if it were drugs, if that's what it was, all the while hoping that it wasn't. Part of me didn't honestly believe it could of been, but at the time, I had absolutely no idea what else it could be.
But how Liz could have gone from straight A student, to covering for a suspected drug user......it wasn't like her.
I asked her if maybe Max got wasted, and he crashed, and almost *killed* her, and that's what she's covering up. If that was it. Even as I stood there, in the moment, accusing her of these things, I'm not sure it ever really seemed plausible. The quiet, kind to everyone and everything, studious Max Evans, a user. But then it takes all sorts.
After a pause, I speculated that she couldn't of used Michael's blood, no, 'cause he was just as wasted as Max. It occurred to me then, that could have been the reason they hung together. I'd hate to think of Isabel involved with something like that, but if Liz had gotten caught up in it, well......anything was possible.
And with Michael, the only male there excluded, who could she call upon but her good friend Alex? Alex, who won't ask questions, who won't rock the boat.
She answered simply that it wasn't true. I wondered which she was talking about. I asked her again, and after a long, tense pause, in which I became aware of Michael and Maria watching us, she answered.
"You're right. It's drugs."
She may have said it somewhat unconvincingly, but I know I still had a look of disgusted disbelief on my face as I walked away. I didn't know whether to be angry that she might be lying to me -- again, I might add. Or upset........because she might be telling the truth.
~~~~~~~~~~
Okay, that concludes the flashback portion of our evening. Coming back to the present, I exit Roswell Memorial, taking deep breaths of the somewhat fresh air.
Now I just have to go home, explain why I missed some school........and figure out a way to get a straight answer out of Liz.
######### Next Day
Well, today is going well. So far, I slept through the alarm, had to rush back home because I forgot my lunch, and then sped to school......and *still* ended up late. All because of Liz, and her damn secrets.
I spent all night, my thoughts racing, just thinking. Yeah, I know. But this was serious stuff. Trying to come up with a strategy for finding out Liz's secret.
I couldn't come up with one......but now at lunch, an opportunity has presented itself.
I spot Kyle Valenti, for once sitting alone at a table in the Quad. I sit down next to him, unwrapping my lunch. I was going to quiz him on his involvement in the secret, but it turns out, that *Kyle* is suspicious of *me.*
He said something about the others sending me here to find out if he was going to spill the beans.
Spill the beans about what?! I felt like screaming.
Anyway, as he rambles, I conclude that he knows *something.* He must have, since he reacted the way he did.
But I don't think he quite knows what it is he.....well, what it is he *knows.*
I tune back in just in time to hear him say that he's tired of being lied to. God, join the club.
"You really think I'm gonna believe Liz didn't let you in on her little secret?"
He has angry disbelief in his voice, and I wanted to shout, Yes! Believe it.
But, before I can add anything else, he makes some comment about me being the 'B' team, and stalks off. Leaving me to sit here, mulling the whole conversation over, thinking on what was said.
And as I do, I get this strange sensation crawling down my spine. It feels like......someone is watching me. I turn and look, but there's no one there. Great. I'm getting paranoid.
#####Next Day
Mmmm. Lunch is good. Well, much better than yesterdays fiasco with Kyle. I'm sitting in a different part of the Quad this time. The article I'm reading is boring, but at least it's helping to take my mind off Liz. Of course, I soon lose interest, because.......Ms Topolsky is behind me.
She makes some comments about my lunch, indicating to the space next to me, and I answer her, leaning forward to move my bag off the bench so she can sit down. I wonder why she's here, and then she's sitting next to me. Yep. Just sat down next to me.
Whoa, she put together the tutorial?!
I proceed to get excited and grateful over hers news about the tutorial I'd been asking about.
Ugh. My drink tastes weird. But who cares? Ms Topolsky managed to put the tutorial together. Did I mention that yet?
"I heard about what you did for Max Evans."
Oh God. I'm choking. Please don't let me cough all over my guidance counsellor. She just told me she heard about what I did for Max. What has she heard?
Oh. Okay, heart rate slowing down. She heard that a bunch of us went to the hospital. That's good. That's safe. That's *legal.*
How did she know?
As if reading my mind, she tells me that the school keeps her apprised of all things concerning the students. Okay.
I attempt to make some small talk, and we chat some more.
Wait, what? She has concerns about Max?
Like what, I wonder.
Before I can voice my query, a shadow falls over us. Whoa, where did Liz come from?
Topolsky gives Liz a strange look, then leaves, asking me to come to her office later. Why?
Anyway, I try to brush Liz off, collecting my stuff and moving away.
I know I'm being sarcastic and short with her, but I don't really care any more.
Never one to give up, Liz starts following me. Not to try and fix our friendship. But to find out what I may have said, if I squealed. Who is this woman, and what has she done with Liz Parker?
Has Roswell been invaded by aliens, or something?
I'm talking as I walk, and I notice that Liz has gotten really agitated at the mention of Kyle's name........I don't know why. Just one more example of 'I don't know' to add to my list.
I'm so involved with the discussion, or argument, which ever you like, that I don't realise anything's wrong until I feel wetness on my face, above my lip.
Damn. A nosebleed? I haven't had one of those in.......well, a while.
Liz reaches out, trying to help me. God, why did this happen *now?*
I may have been getting somewhere, she may have broken down, told me the truth.
Sure, I mock myself.
As we were walking along, before my nose bleed, I had cracked that if I had a therapist, he would say that Liz was detrimental to my mental health, or something.......the remark is fading now.
But maybe it isn't just my *mental* health. Can nosebleeds be caused by stress?
I finally succeed in brushing Liz off, then make for the bathroom. Hopefully, it'll be empty. Though knowing my luck, it's probably been invaded by Elvis look alikes, or something.
I enter, and concentrate on cleaning up, dropping the bloody -- and gross -- tissue in the trash. Loser.
##########
Okay. Deep breath. Raise hand. Knock on door. I know I sound stupid, and that even little kids don't have to coach themselves through something as simple as visiting a teacher, but I'm nervous. I enter, wincing as I sound slightly out of breath. Whoa. She looks serious. No smile of greeting, no comment to put me at ease.
I remembered to close the door quietly, but almost forget to breath at Topolsky's next comment.
"I know everything."
What? I sit down, knowing I may just collapse. God, she knows......she knows about the blood test. She knows why? Hell, *I* don't even know why. Not really.
Topolsky's saying that she can help me. She has friends that can help me. Sounds..........ominous.
What kind of friends?
She doesn't answer, and I don't even know if I had actually spoken the words out loud. She continues to say that she wants me to safe. Well, I want me to be safe as well. Wait, I'm not safe? Huh. Topolsky also wants me to write everything down. And she seems kind of eager to have me sign it. I don't......I can't....
I ask her who her friends are, but she doesn't tell me. Just says I can trust them.......as much as I can trust *her.*
Where have I heard that one before? Trust her? Don't make me laugh. I've known Liz and Maria for years, and I can't even trust them anymore. She lets me go without pushing too much, and I leave, heading for my locker.
Goddamn! He moves quiet. Granted my head was in my locker at the time, but even still, I should have heard him approach.
*He's* here. Him. Max Evans.
He wants to know if I'm okay. Max thinks we need to talk, about what happened at the hospital. Ah, perfect opportunity. What was that?
I saved his life, apparently. I don't even try to censor my remark.
"Yeah, well, you screwed up mine."
Okay, here come the threats. The warnings not to say anything, well Max, you're too late. Topolsky knows.
Oh, wow, this is apparently news to Max. More mystery. Max is interested in what I told Topolsky, if I signed the 'confession.'
It may be petty, but I think I can afford to now. I think I'll leave him in the dark, I'll let *him* be the one left to wonder. Now he know what it feels like.
######## Later That Day
God, this is stupid! Here I am, peeking around corners, worried that Evans or Guerin might be lying in wait. This whole thing has got me paranoid that they may have decided to try and shut me up about something, I hardly even know anything about!
They don't seem violent, at least Evans doesn't --- Guerin is a wild card.
But -- what if it *is* drugs? That can make a guy unpredictable.
Okay. Made it. Open locker, store books, get -- huh? What's this? As I pick up the piece of paper that has just fallen out of my locker, I look around. Is someone watching? Is this a threat?
I read the note quickly, scanning for the name of who sent it. It's from Liz. She wants me to meet her at the Crashdown. Okay. I can do that. Maybe she's *finally* going to tell me. I think that may have just
become my new catchphrase.
############
I'm standing at the window of the Crashdown, just looking in. I can see Liz, sitting at the counter, head bowed. I gather what little courage I have left at this point, an enter. God, I've been here so many times, but it seems so strange now.
"I've met you here a thousand times, but this.....doesn't feel the same."
She nods in agreement. She begins by saying how we've been friends since the 5th grade. Feeling a little giddy because she's actually *talking* to me, I correct her, reminding her that we actually met in the 4th grade, but she just didn't notice me 'til 5th.
Back when we were children and things were so uncomplicated.
Liz tells me that she has come to me, with every problem that she's ever had. I remember.
I remember when her mom made her wear that hideous hat all summer, 'cause she thought that Liz looked so cute in it. She did, it just happened to be a disgusting hat. Or the time she got really sick, and missed a week of school, and she asked me to get her homework for her, then spent an hour crying because she was frightened of falling behind her class. Of course, when she had calmed down, she'd blamed her emotion on her illness. But I was there for her, she came to me. Or when she and Maria had a misunderstanding, and one or the other needed a shoulder to cry on, one who would make sure that they reconciled.
She even came to me when she realised that she didn't wanna be with Kyle anymore. Okay, so she had discussed it with Maria first, but she still came to me.
"Until now."
Ooh, target hit. She winces slightly, but disagrees.
"No, even now."
She says that what happened with Max, at the hospital, was the most important thing that she's ever had to do. And she called me.
She's asking me to do something else. To trust her again, even though she can't tell me what it is I wanna know.
"Because of Max."
"No, forget Max, Alex, this is between us. Look, I told you before it was complicated. Well, maybe it's not. There is a right side.....and a wrong side. And if you choose the wrong side right now Alex, something really terrible is going to happen.....to all of us. I am begging you Alex, if five years of friendship have meant anything to you, *please* trust me. I swear to you, I am on the right side."
Looking at her face......the face of the girl who has been one of my two best friends for *five* years.....I choose a side. I'm not sure if I'm on the right side or the wrong side.......but I do know one thing.
I'm on the side of friendship.
##############
God, I'm so nervous. What the hell am I doing? What if I get caught....what if I get suspended? What if I get *expelled?*
'C'mon Alex, you can't think like this.....pull it together and *go.*'
After my internal pep talk, I knock and enter her office. She's sitting down at her desk as I enter.
"I've thought about what you said. And I'm not worried about me right now.....it's Liz."
Okay, right note of hesitation in my voice, keeping eye contact......but even as I say the words, a large part of me is screaming that I think that they may be true.
Ms. Topolsky gets this look on her face ....... I've seen it before. On adults who want you to do something. So they plant suggestions in your head, purely with your own best interests at heart, of course.
She's wearing that kind of half smile they get, when you finally see things *their* way. Condescending is a word that comes to mind. Smug, is another.
I put the dislike that the expression raises in me aside, and went on to ask about what would happen to Liz, should I do this. What her 'friends' would do.
"She'll be questioned. They'll probably do some medical tests, to make sure she wasn't harmed in any way."
Wait, medical tests?
Leaving that question unanswered for now, I make some comments about the police. Topolsky reassures me that they'll be no police.
Nope, just 'friends' with questions and medical tests.
While I'm doing this for Liz, I might as well try and get some information.
"But if......if they're involved with drugs, then -- "
Whoa....that looks like news to *her.*
"I - it is drugs, isn't it?"
Predictably, she doesn't answer. Just pushes the pad and paper at me again, telling me to write down everything that happened.
I'm saved from actually having to, by a knock on the door.
A look passes over Topolsky's face, so fast I almost missed it. Almost.
But for a second she looked.......*furious.*
The door opens to reveal Liz, who gives me a hard look. Whoa, if I hadn't known better, I would have been worried.
Topolsky asks if something is wrong, and I realise that her voice is *really* starting to grate on my nerves. Not that it takes a lot these days.
Liz asks to see Topolsky outside, and she stands to leave, making sure to let me know that it's alright to finish that 'project' we're working on.
I look at the pad, suprised to find myself genuinely considering the 'project' for a second. It would end all of this....or would it?
Liz said that something terrible would happen.......and I find myself believing her.
I jump up, going over to Toplosky's open lap top. Part of me is wondering what Liz is telling Topolsky.....the rest of me quickly shuts that part down, and focuses on the screen.
Typing in some commands, I quickly log on. Accessing her email account, I create a new password, bypassing her old one. Damn, no email in the 'in box.' But wait....what about email *sent?*
I hear the clicking of heels an instant before the door bursts open. I was too shocked at what I had found out to register the noise sooner, and I find myself staring directly at Toplosky.
The look on her face as she realises what we've done, is hard to describe.
I stand, turning the lap top to clue Liz in on my discovery.
"If you think you've just helped yourselves, you're wrong."
Topolsky's words snap me out of my stupor. Was that a threat?
She moves over to her desk, packing her things away. I have to ask.
"What's the F.B.I doing in West Roswell?"
"This isn't going to end just because you know who I am."
Huh, she didn't answer my question....big suprise. But who is she? I know who she works for, but....who is Kathleen Topolsky, really?
Addressing Liz, she speaks again.
"I was on your side. I just hope that your side. I just hope your friend Max doesn't end up in the wrong hands without me here."
I see a flicker in Liz's eyes at the mention of Max's name, but instead of responding she simply steps aside, allowing Topolsky to pass.
Striding out, her heels clacking on the floor and mug in hand, Topolsky walks away, hopefully never to be heard from again.
As Liz and I stand there, watching her walk up the stairs, I decide I have bigger problems.
"Okay.....alright. You are going to tell me exactly what is going on with Max, and Topolsky, and the actual F.B.I, or I swear Liz, this is the end of you and me being friends."
"No Alex, don't say that --"
"What, something that I won't go through with?" I interrupt. "Liz, I'm not kidding......alright. Now you either tell me the truth -- " 'please Liz' " -- Or I walk."
I can see the indecision on her face, and I know her answer even before she does, even as I'm pleading inside for her to change her mind.
"Alex, I can't."
So that's it. Without another word, I walk off. Once again telling myself not to turn around. Not to look back. To just keep on walking.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Notes; I'm always looking for ways to bring Alex into my fiction. I was pissed that they killed him off, though not as much as my little sister;)
Anyway, I was watching Blood Brother the other day, and it occurred to me........how must Alex have felt during this?
I mean, his two best friends start acting weird, then ask him for a blood sample......then his guidance counsellor starts getting all weird with him as well.......what was he thinking?
I'm a huge Max fan, but this was just begging to be written [ I am aware that other people may have had similar ideas, but I haven't found any, so......sorry **shrug**]
Well, here's my attempt at figuring it out.
Feedback is appreciated.
Please note, I have no spell checker or Beta reader. Any and all mistakes are my own.
*This* equals emphasis.
Sentences written in slightly larger text, are actual dialogue, taken from the episode.
~~~~~~~ Denotes flashback start, and end.
##### Denotes a passage of time [ie, next day.]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That's it Alex, I counsel myself. Don't look back. Just walk away, and don't. Look. Back.
As I moved, never once turning to the group I'm trying to get away from, other pieces of advice occur to me. Try *not* to walk into the nurses. Watch the wheelchairs. Don't barf at the sight of so much blood.
No, I'm not crazy. I'm just trying to navigate the waiting room of Roswell Memorial Hospital......no, I'm not a patient. More like.....an unwilling visitor.
Maybe I should start at the beginning.
I'm Alex Whitman. The person I'm walking away from?..........that's Liz Parker. One of my two best friends. And one of the major players in this big mess.
If there was one thing that I had learned about Liz Parker over the years, it was that sometimes, a little guilt went a long way. And that suited my purposes fine.
Not exactly the kind of treatment you want to give to one of your best friends, but hey, I was getting desperate at this point. What the hell was going on? ............Wanna know what I'm babbling about?
To put it quite simply, my problem is, that those two best friends I mentioned? Well, they've been acting........strange.
And all I know is that Liz and Maria [those friends I mentioned] have been having these weird, secret conversations, talking about countries that didn't exsist anymore, and all in all, acting -- make that TRYING to act -- covertly, for weeks now.
Though it wasn't really working, obviously........my suspicions had been aroused.
I didn't know if it was just her nature, or if she was just really bad at it, but I have a feeling my little buddy Ms. DeLuca, couldn't be covert about anything.
But wait. I'm getting off track.
Where was I? Ah yes. Pulling a guilt trip on Liz Parker. Why you may ask.
Well, it had all started when I was talking to some guys at school.............
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Earlier Today
Maria appeared behind me, just in time to prove some point I was making, about the fact that girls like musicians. I don't know what it is.......Maybe it's the creativity, or just the whole instrument
thing --- whoa, off track there -- again. Anyway, she grabbed me, saying I was needed.
I followed blindly, like the dutiful, though confused friend that I am, all the while trying to get Maria to tell me what was going on.
We got to the Jetta and lumbered off. In between bouts of praying that the damn rust bucket we were in didn't fall apart, Maria filled me in, though it was in typical Maria DeLuca fashion.
"Liz. Max. Car accident. Hospital. Liz fine. Max not. Tell you the rest when we get there."
The words were spat out rapidly, and I barely caught them as they whizzed past.
Oka-a-a-y. Maria was obviously freaked. My own heartbeat was moving pretty fast, but calmed down when I realised that Liz was fine.
But what was this about Max? Max EVANS? That quiet kid at school? Sure, I'd seen him around with Liz a few times recently, but......what were they doing out of school........in a car........together?
All thought was then suspended for a moment, as Maria braked the car. *Hard.*
After making sure that my heart was in my chest where it belonged, as opposed to my throat where it had just rapidly crawled, I said something.......I think. It may have been
something about how utterly stupid it would be if we ended up in the hospital as patients too, it may have been something about being to young to die, I can't be sure. The blood was pounding in my ears, making it a bit hard to actually hear anything. But after that, Maria actually drove like a sane person.
We arrived -- miraculously in one piece -- and went in. Maria asked around, and we found out where Max was, figuring Liz wouldn't be far away.
Maria's words as we entered the ward were,
"Oh my God."
I wasn't sure if she was remarking with relief at seeing Liz, apparently uninjured, or the sight of Max Evans on a hospital gurney, eyes closed and probably unsconcious. Personally, the words began dancing around in *my* head, when I saw *her.*
Isabel Evans.
She looked worried, and my heart went out to her. I'd seen the Evans kids around school with
that ...........Garin? Guerin? Yeah, Michael Guerin. And they always seemed so close.
My thoughts turned away from the gorgeous, model like, mysterious blond bea --- well, you get the idea. And turned to Liz.
She looked pale, shaken up. Perfectly normal under the circumstances, I thought.
But I remember thinking.......other than moral support, what did she need me for? Because I had this.......feeling, that it was nothing to do with support.
And I just *had* to ask, didn't I? When Liz moved forward, and leaned up to my ear, I don't think in any of my wildest imaginings that I could of guessed what she was about to ask. She murmured it quietly in my ear, and believe me, if Isabel Evans had walked up and asked me to....I don't know, go stargazing with her or something, I don't think I could have been more suprised.
"I need your blood."
The words 'hey, fine,' almost rolled of my tongue automatically, before her request sank into my brain. My *blood?*
I couldn't wrap my mind around it. But when I looked up, and I saw the naked *fear* on Isabel Evans face as she stroked the dark hair of her brother --- so much the opposite
of her own, thick, blond hair --- I found myself nodding quietly.
The next thing I knew, I was sitting on an uncomfortable chair in the middle of a corridor.
Maria was on 'lookout,' and Liz was about to stick a *big* needle in my arm. My friend Liz.
My 'not trained as a nurse or a doctor,' friend. My 'no medical experience *whatsoever,* ' friend, was about to stick a needle, into my arm, hoping that she got a vein, potentially hitting an artery.......if there were any there.
"Okay, I have any number of reservations, at this particular moment."
I tried to keep the fear out of my voice, but I didn't think I'd been successful.
"No, it's fine Alex. I volunteered here last summer, I saw them do this like a thousand times."
The confidence in Liz's voice was just somehow, not that reassuring.
Yeah Liz, I remember finding myself thinking. My mom's seen Noah Wylie do any number of surgical procedures on E.R. But the day I let her come within three feet of me, wielding a scalpel, is the day......is the day you, me and Maria, start dating aliens. The day....I don't know, I score a date with Isabel Evans. It's never gonna happen.
As my thoughts turned briefly to Isabel Evans again -- so what, I'm predictable -- my mind tried to figure out what could possibly be going on.
"God, what are you people hiding?"
The words slipped out on their own, and I didn't really expect an answer at this point, though Liz promised to tell me later. I heard her, but didn't look up. My eyes were trained downward, watching Liz, the one with no medical certificate, and the needle once again heading towards my tender flesh.
I tried once more to persuade her not to do this, and she in turn, tried to assuage my fears. All further pleading -- at least on my part -- was cut short as Maria suddenly turned, warning us of incoming.
All this had no real significance as I watched Isabel Evans, the most gorgeous girl in school [ in my teenaged, hormonally ravaged opinion] approach *me.*
"It would be best if you didn't look."
God, even her voice was beautiful.
Look? I could hardly take my eyes off of her.
That was until she grabbed hold of the needle, minus the gloves Liz was wearing, and touched my arm.
MY. ARM.
Suddenly, I *had* to look away, just so she wouldn't see my face go red.
Liz thanked me, and I opened my tightly closed eyes, and stared at her. I heard Isabel tell me it would sting a little, and boy, did it sting.
Now, it could of been my close proximity to a Goddess [ when did I get so geeky?.....At least, geeky internally, as well.]
Or maybe my complete and utter confusion over what on Earth was going on with my two best friends. But I would swear that where Isabel was touching my arm was.......tingling.
I was actually convinced that, should I turn around, I would see my skin........glow, or something. Hormones. While I was puzzling this, I realised Isabel was finished.
The blood was whisked away swiftly by a strangely silent Maria, while Liz settled in the chair next to me.
Isabel began pacing, and I couldn't help but wonder two things. One; how the hell does she look so good, even in the midst of such emotional turmoil [ Emotional turmoil?......Gotta stop watching those soaps with Maria.....but hey, I'm a guy......and she looked GOOD. ]
And two; how the hell did she balance on those shoes? They looked like big blocks attached to the soles of her feet. Forget how they made her legs look in those tight ......pants........where was I?
Once again, I plead guilty to being male. Even the *memory* is enough to render me speechless......no mean feat, I assure you.
Anyway, I was sitting there, knee jiggling nervously, fingers twitching.
Liz and Maria were studiously avoiding eye contact. Guerin was....I don't know, even thinking it over now, I can't quite put my finger on it. Glaring? Assessing?....... me with his eyes.
It's quite an unnerving sight actually. Though, I suppose that's the general idea.
I often wondered how they all hooked up. Max and Isabel Evans, not exactly poor. Brilliant grades, nice demeanours, popular.......well, Isabel was. Max was quietly popular.......liked by just about all, but not very social about it. All the qualities that parents sit up at night and wish for their children to possess.
And Michael Guerin. Okay grades, when he bothered to turn up. Not exactly the most personable or outgoing type ever. How did they get together? Could be 'cause they're all adopted, I guessed. Maybe they felt a certain.....what is it called? A kinship, or something. Whatever. All I knew, is that they have a friendship as tight as the one I share with Maria and Liz. Thinking back now, should that have been shared?
After what felt like hours, Liz turned to me. I remember thinking, 'At last. Finally. I'm getting some answers.' But no.
Liz thought that I should go home. Liz also thought that I was going to do the blood donor routine, and other things for her new friends, with no questions asked.......... Well, maybe she had been right about me doing things for her, but I WAS going to ask questions, and I made up my mind to get answers.
I mean, I would help her for now, so long as it wasn't illegal......that's when it hit me.......*illegal.*
"Liz, what I just did, I could get *arrested* for. And that's all you have to say? Any of you?"
I directed the last part to Maria as well.
"She said go home."
Oh, look, I had joked internally. Michael speaks. I had wondered on several occasions if it were possible. Of course, it was just my luck that the first words out of his mouth were in a threatening tone, and of course, directed at me. The joy I had felt at this revelation, was just.........unmeasurable.
I recall making a crack about the great new friends Liz had, and got up, the chain hanging from my pants making a jingling noise that sounded oddly loud in the nearly silent corridor.
Liz followed me, telling me to wait. I informed her of the obvious, that I'd *been* waiting.
Liz wanted me to know that 'it's complicated, okay?'
Complicated? More like criminal!
I let her know that no, it's wasn't okay.
Liz informed me that I had to trust her. Instead of asking her to just take her own advice and do the same, I started throwing out ideas for her recent behaviour.
I asked her if it were drugs, if that's what it was, all the while hoping that it wasn't. Part of me didn't honestly believe it could of been, but at the time, I had absolutely no idea what else it could be.
But how Liz could have gone from straight A student, to covering for a suspected drug user......it wasn't like her.
I asked her if maybe Max got wasted, and he crashed, and almost *killed* her, and that's what she's covering up. If that was it. Even as I stood there, in the moment, accusing her of these things, I'm not sure it ever really seemed plausible. The quiet, kind to everyone and everything, studious Max Evans, a user. But then it takes all sorts.
After a pause, I speculated that she couldn't of used Michael's blood, no, 'cause he was just as wasted as Max. It occurred to me then, that could have been the reason they hung together. I'd hate to think of Isabel involved with something like that, but if Liz had gotten caught up in it, well......anything was possible.
And with Michael, the only male there excluded, who could she call upon but her good friend Alex? Alex, who won't ask questions, who won't rock the boat.
She answered simply that it wasn't true. I wondered which she was talking about. I asked her again, and after a long, tense pause, in which I became aware of Michael and Maria watching us, she answered.
"You're right. It's drugs."
She may have said it somewhat unconvincingly, but I know I still had a look of disgusted disbelief on my face as I walked away. I didn't know whether to be angry that she might be lying to me -- again, I might add. Or upset........because she might be telling the truth.
~~~~~~~~~~
Okay, that concludes the flashback portion of our evening. Coming back to the present, I exit Roswell Memorial, taking deep breaths of the somewhat fresh air.
Now I just have to go home, explain why I missed some school........and figure out a way to get a straight answer out of Liz.
######### Next Day
Well, today is going well. So far, I slept through the alarm, had to rush back home because I forgot my lunch, and then sped to school......and *still* ended up late. All because of Liz, and her damn secrets.
I spent all night, my thoughts racing, just thinking. Yeah, I know. But this was serious stuff. Trying to come up with a strategy for finding out Liz's secret.
I couldn't come up with one......but now at lunch, an opportunity has presented itself.
I spot Kyle Valenti, for once sitting alone at a table in the Quad. I sit down next to him, unwrapping my lunch. I was going to quiz him on his involvement in the secret, but it turns out, that *Kyle* is suspicious of *me.*
He said something about the others sending me here to find out if he was going to spill the beans.
Spill the beans about what?! I felt like screaming.
Anyway, as he rambles, I conclude that he knows *something.* He must have, since he reacted the way he did.
But I don't think he quite knows what it is he.....well, what it is he *knows.*
I tune back in just in time to hear him say that he's tired of being lied to. God, join the club.
"You really think I'm gonna believe Liz didn't let you in on her little secret?"
He has angry disbelief in his voice, and I wanted to shout, Yes! Believe it.
But, before I can add anything else, he makes some comment about me being the 'B' team, and stalks off. Leaving me to sit here, mulling the whole conversation over, thinking on what was said.
And as I do, I get this strange sensation crawling down my spine. It feels like......someone is watching me. I turn and look, but there's no one there. Great. I'm getting paranoid.
#####Next Day
Mmmm. Lunch is good. Well, much better than yesterdays fiasco with Kyle. I'm sitting in a different part of the Quad this time. The article I'm reading is boring, but at least it's helping to take my mind off Liz. Of course, I soon lose interest, because.......Ms Topolsky is behind me.
She makes some comments about my lunch, indicating to the space next to me, and I answer her, leaning forward to move my bag off the bench so she can sit down. I wonder why she's here, and then she's sitting next to me. Yep. Just sat down next to me.
Whoa, she put together the tutorial?!
I proceed to get excited and grateful over hers news about the tutorial I'd been asking about.
Ugh. My drink tastes weird. But who cares? Ms Topolsky managed to put the tutorial together. Did I mention that yet?
"I heard about what you did for Max Evans."
Oh God. I'm choking. Please don't let me cough all over my guidance counsellor. She just told me she heard about what I did for Max. What has she heard?
Oh. Okay, heart rate slowing down. She heard that a bunch of us went to the hospital. That's good. That's safe. That's *legal.*
How did she know?
As if reading my mind, she tells me that the school keeps her apprised of all things concerning the students. Okay.
I attempt to make some small talk, and we chat some more.
Wait, what? She has concerns about Max?
Like what, I wonder.
Before I can voice my query, a shadow falls over us. Whoa, where did Liz come from?
Topolsky gives Liz a strange look, then leaves, asking me to come to her office later. Why?
Anyway, I try to brush Liz off, collecting my stuff and moving away.
I know I'm being sarcastic and short with her, but I don't really care any more.
Never one to give up, Liz starts following me. Not to try and fix our friendship. But to find out what I may have said, if I squealed. Who is this woman, and what has she done with Liz Parker?
Has Roswell been invaded by aliens, or something?
I'm talking as I walk, and I notice that Liz has gotten really agitated at the mention of Kyle's name........I don't know why. Just one more example of 'I don't know' to add to my list.
I'm so involved with the discussion, or argument, which ever you like, that I don't realise anything's wrong until I feel wetness on my face, above my lip.
Damn. A nosebleed? I haven't had one of those in.......well, a while.
Liz reaches out, trying to help me. God, why did this happen *now?*
I may have been getting somewhere, she may have broken down, told me the truth.
Sure, I mock myself.
As we were walking along, before my nose bleed, I had cracked that if I had a therapist, he would say that Liz was detrimental to my mental health, or something.......the remark is fading now.
But maybe it isn't just my *mental* health. Can nosebleeds be caused by stress?
I finally succeed in brushing Liz off, then make for the bathroom. Hopefully, it'll be empty. Though knowing my luck, it's probably been invaded by Elvis look alikes, or something.
I enter, and concentrate on cleaning up, dropping the bloody -- and gross -- tissue in the trash. Loser.
##########
Okay. Deep breath. Raise hand. Knock on door. I know I sound stupid, and that even little kids don't have to coach themselves through something as simple as visiting a teacher, but I'm nervous. I enter, wincing as I sound slightly out of breath. Whoa. She looks serious. No smile of greeting, no comment to put me at ease.
I remembered to close the door quietly, but almost forget to breath at Topolsky's next comment.
"I know everything."
What? I sit down, knowing I may just collapse. God, she knows......she knows about the blood test. She knows why? Hell, *I* don't even know why. Not really.
Topolsky's saying that she can help me. She has friends that can help me. Sounds..........ominous.
What kind of friends?
She doesn't answer, and I don't even know if I had actually spoken the words out loud. She continues to say that she wants me to safe. Well, I want me to be safe as well. Wait, I'm not safe? Huh. Topolsky also wants me to write everything down. And she seems kind of eager to have me sign it. I don't......I can't....
I ask her who her friends are, but she doesn't tell me. Just says I can trust them.......as much as I can trust *her.*
Where have I heard that one before? Trust her? Don't make me laugh. I've known Liz and Maria for years, and I can't even trust them anymore. She lets me go without pushing too much, and I leave, heading for my locker.
Goddamn! He moves quiet. Granted my head was in my locker at the time, but even still, I should have heard him approach.
*He's* here. Him. Max Evans.
He wants to know if I'm okay. Max thinks we need to talk, about what happened at the hospital. Ah, perfect opportunity. What was that?
I saved his life, apparently. I don't even try to censor my remark.
"Yeah, well, you screwed up mine."
Okay, here come the threats. The warnings not to say anything, well Max, you're too late. Topolsky knows.
Oh, wow, this is apparently news to Max. More mystery. Max is interested in what I told Topolsky, if I signed the 'confession.'
It may be petty, but I think I can afford to now. I think I'll leave him in the dark, I'll let *him* be the one left to wonder. Now he know what it feels like.
######## Later That Day
God, this is stupid! Here I am, peeking around corners, worried that Evans or Guerin might be lying in wait. This whole thing has got me paranoid that they may have decided to try and shut me up about something, I hardly even know anything about!
They don't seem violent, at least Evans doesn't --- Guerin is a wild card.
But -- what if it *is* drugs? That can make a guy unpredictable.
Okay. Made it. Open locker, store books, get -- huh? What's this? As I pick up the piece of paper that has just fallen out of my locker, I look around. Is someone watching? Is this a threat?
I read the note quickly, scanning for the name of who sent it. It's from Liz. She wants me to meet her at the Crashdown. Okay. I can do that. Maybe she's *finally* going to tell me. I think that may have just
become my new catchphrase.
############
I'm standing at the window of the Crashdown, just looking in. I can see Liz, sitting at the counter, head bowed. I gather what little courage I have left at this point, an enter. God, I've been here so many times, but it seems so strange now.
"I've met you here a thousand times, but this.....doesn't feel the same."
She nods in agreement. She begins by saying how we've been friends since the 5th grade. Feeling a little giddy because she's actually *talking* to me, I correct her, reminding her that we actually met in the 4th grade, but she just didn't notice me 'til 5th.
Back when we were children and things were so uncomplicated.
Liz tells me that she has come to me, with every problem that she's ever had. I remember.
I remember when her mom made her wear that hideous hat all summer, 'cause she thought that Liz looked so cute in it. She did, it just happened to be a disgusting hat. Or the time she got really sick, and missed a week of school, and she asked me to get her homework for her, then spent an hour crying because she was frightened of falling behind her class. Of course, when she had calmed down, she'd blamed her emotion on her illness. But I was there for her, she came to me. Or when she and Maria had a misunderstanding, and one or the other needed a shoulder to cry on, one who would make sure that they reconciled.
She even came to me when she realised that she didn't wanna be with Kyle anymore. Okay, so she had discussed it with Maria first, but she still came to me.
"Until now."
Ooh, target hit. She winces slightly, but disagrees.
"No, even now."
She says that what happened with Max, at the hospital, was the most important thing that she's ever had to do. And she called me.
She's asking me to do something else. To trust her again, even though she can't tell me what it is I wanna know.
"Because of Max."
"No, forget Max, Alex, this is between us. Look, I told you before it was complicated. Well, maybe it's not. There is a right side.....and a wrong side. And if you choose the wrong side right now Alex, something really terrible is going to happen.....to all of us. I am begging you Alex, if five years of friendship have meant anything to you, *please* trust me. I swear to you, I am on the right side."
Looking at her face......the face of the girl who has been one of my two best friends for *five* years.....I choose a side. I'm not sure if I'm on the right side or the wrong side.......but I do know one thing.
I'm on the side of friendship.
##############
God, I'm so nervous. What the hell am I doing? What if I get caught....what if I get suspended? What if I get *expelled?*
'C'mon Alex, you can't think like this.....pull it together and *go.*'
After my internal pep talk, I knock and enter her office. She's sitting down at her desk as I enter.
"I've thought about what you said. And I'm not worried about me right now.....it's Liz."
Okay, right note of hesitation in my voice, keeping eye contact......but even as I say the words, a large part of me is screaming that I think that they may be true.
Ms. Topolsky gets this look on her face ....... I've seen it before. On adults who want you to do something. So they plant suggestions in your head, purely with your own best interests at heart, of course.
She's wearing that kind of half smile they get, when you finally see things *their* way. Condescending is a word that comes to mind. Smug, is another.
I put the dislike that the expression raises in me aside, and went on to ask about what would happen to Liz, should I do this. What her 'friends' would do.
"She'll be questioned. They'll probably do some medical tests, to make sure she wasn't harmed in any way."
Wait, medical tests?
Leaving that question unanswered for now, I make some comments about the police. Topolsky reassures me that they'll be no police.
Nope, just 'friends' with questions and medical tests.
While I'm doing this for Liz, I might as well try and get some information.
"But if......if they're involved with drugs, then -- "
Whoa....that looks like news to *her.*
"I - it is drugs, isn't it?"
Predictably, she doesn't answer. Just pushes the pad and paper at me again, telling me to write down everything that happened.
I'm saved from actually having to, by a knock on the door.
A look passes over Topolsky's face, so fast I almost missed it. Almost.
But for a second she looked.......*furious.*
The door opens to reveal Liz, who gives me a hard look. Whoa, if I hadn't known better, I would have been worried.
Topolsky asks if something is wrong, and I realise that her voice is *really* starting to grate on my nerves. Not that it takes a lot these days.
Liz asks to see Topolsky outside, and she stands to leave, making sure to let me know that it's alright to finish that 'project' we're working on.
I look at the pad, suprised to find myself genuinely considering the 'project' for a second. It would end all of this....or would it?
Liz said that something terrible would happen.......and I find myself believing her.
I jump up, going over to Toplosky's open lap top. Part of me is wondering what Liz is telling Topolsky.....the rest of me quickly shuts that part down, and focuses on the screen.
Typing in some commands, I quickly log on. Accessing her email account, I create a new password, bypassing her old one. Damn, no email in the 'in box.' But wait....what about email *sent?*
I hear the clicking of heels an instant before the door bursts open. I was too shocked at what I had found out to register the noise sooner, and I find myself staring directly at Toplosky.
The look on her face as she realises what we've done, is hard to describe.
I stand, turning the lap top to clue Liz in on my discovery.
"If you think you've just helped yourselves, you're wrong."
Topolsky's words snap me out of my stupor. Was that a threat?
She moves over to her desk, packing her things away. I have to ask.
"What's the F.B.I doing in West Roswell?"
"This isn't going to end just because you know who I am."
Huh, she didn't answer my question....big suprise. But who is she? I know who she works for, but....who is Kathleen Topolsky, really?
Addressing Liz, she speaks again.
"I was on your side. I just hope that your side. I just hope your friend Max doesn't end up in the wrong hands without me here."
I see a flicker in Liz's eyes at the mention of Max's name, but instead of responding she simply steps aside, allowing Topolsky to pass.
Striding out, her heels clacking on the floor and mug in hand, Topolsky walks away, hopefully never to be heard from again.
As Liz and I stand there, watching her walk up the stairs, I decide I have bigger problems.
"Okay.....alright. You are going to tell me exactly what is going on with Max, and Topolsky, and the actual F.B.I, or I swear Liz, this is the end of you and me being friends."
"No Alex, don't say that --"
"What, something that I won't go through with?" I interrupt. "Liz, I'm not kidding......alright. Now you either tell me the truth -- " 'please Liz' " -- Or I walk."
I can see the indecision on her face, and I know her answer even before she does, even as I'm pleading inside for her to change her mind.
"Alex, I can't."
So that's it. Without another word, I walk off. Once again telling myself not to turn around. Not to look back. To just keep on walking.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~