People are Overrated

Author: Rozzi Carter

Category: M/L or L/Z I haven't decided yet.

Distribution: Ask me first. I won't say no. maxs_silverhandprint@hotmail.com

Summary: Since you haven't read it yet there can't possibly be a summary. But it's about Liz moving to Roswell, because her mom hopes she'll blossom into a social butterfly. Her only friend is Michael A.K.A. Rath. As said in the category Zan will be in this story. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Otherwise Zan wouldn't be dead, Max wouldn't have been such an ass, and Jason Behr really would be chained to my bed. A girl could only wish.

Rating: R for now.

Chapter One
Liz's Point of View

"Liz you are going to live with your father this summer and that is that!"

You have got to love parents. They think they know it all. They know what you should wear, what you should eat, even who you can be friends with. They know you better than you know yourself. If they really knew everything, why would there be custody battles? Why would there be divorces? But see, you can't bring those points up with them. Because they would know they are right and you are wrong from the beginning.

Right now my mother thinks I should hang out with the "in crowd". Hell, she thinks I should hang out with any crowd, any person. I tell her I do, that I do have a friend. Michael. We've both agreed people are overrated. What are we to each other? Just friends. Our relationship is purely platonic. We are where our social circle begins and ends. But, I guess that since there is only two of us that would make us a segment. So the best my mom is hoping for is a social triangle. Yeah, that's going to happen.

I personally believe I'll end up marrying some hillbilly named Bob, who will sit around on his fat ass all day. Wait that's not accurate. He'll get up. He'll stand to get his beer, hit the television, piss, and scratch his ass. Yup. That's my future Prince Charming. Oh look at me, I'm swooning just at the thought of it.

My mother also says I'll meet the man of my dreams while I'm gone. He'll be tall, blonde and handsome. She also thinks the dust bunnies under her bed speak to her. Ugh. That is my life.

Who needs dreams anyway? That and who ever said that people marry for love, was probably an "I love you" drunk. Or maybe even Afro man. You know? The one who sings that dumb "Because I got high" song. I have the name of a very good psychologist for him. Guess who that is? ME! Liz Parker M.D. Mentally Deranged. Okay maybe not that far. That would never happen anyway. If I had to listen to someone's problems all day, I'd be so pissy that I'd probably tie you up so I can actually tell you what I think of you.

All right. I give. I'll go to Roswell to see my "father". I use that word very lightly if you hadn't noticed. There is only one way I'm going though. If Michael comes with me. At least that way he can ward off all those idiots who will actually try to speak to us.

Don't believe me? Our language to our parents and teachers consists of grunts and grins, with an occasional scowl thrown in here and there. Michael doesn't even speak to our waitresses. He merely points to what he wants. It's really funny when people mistake you for being deaf and a mute. It's always interesting to know that they don't like your hair, or that they want to just your best friends bones. Not.

Have I mentioned that Michael prefers to be called Rath? He says it sounds more dangerous. I think it sounds ridiculous. But I call him that