Part Twenty-Eight

"Hey, guys," greets Isabel, as she knocks on the open door and comes into our room, where Maria is lounging on her bed and I'm getting my things ready for the fashion show, which opens tonight.

We all had our hair done for the performance earlier this afternoon – I love my new hairstyle, by the way: the stylist set my hair in curls and then twisted it and pinned it up in sections, leaving a few random tendrils framing my face… it looks really cool and funky – and we have to go back in a few minutes to get our make up sorted and to check that we have all the outfits ready for each dance.

"Hi, Iz," I smile, as Isabel takes a seat on the edge of Maria's bed, an upset look on her face. "What's up?"

She exhales heavily, shaking her head in annoyance, "Ugh, I am so pissed off."

"What happened?" I ask, although I have a sneaking feeling that whatever is upsetting her might have something to do with Max.

"What didn't?" she says bitterly. "I've had a terrible day. First off, I overslept this morning and was late to my first lecture – when I finally got there, the lecturer got angry with me for being late; then when I got to the refectory for lunch, there was hardly any food left and I got stuck eating lasagne; and then when my full afternoon of lectures finally finishes and I'm walking home, my brother has the nerve to call me, demanding to know why I haven't been answering my phone today and then accusing me of being a bitch and hanging up!"

She breaks off, as tears of frustration begin to roll down her cheeks and as Maria sits up to give her a hug, I let out a sigh.

Oh, Max, what are you thinking?

I just don't get it. Why can't he at least try to make Izzy understand what he's been through? I know he's struggling with his feelings, but doesn't he get that acting like a bastard toward her isn't helping anything? If anything, it makes things worse.

"Oh, Iz, I'm sorry," I say sympathetically as I cross the room and take a seat on the other side of her, rubbing her arm comfortingly.

"I just don't know why he's like this," she sniffs, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. "Why can't he just be even a little bit considerate of other people's feelings?"

"Maybe you should try to talk to him?" I suggest. "Ask him why?"

Isabel snorts, "Yeah, right. We can't even hold a simple phone conversation about everyday stuff without yelling at each other; there's no way I'm gonna get him to sit down and pour his soul out to me. He's not exactly forthcoming with his feelings, you know."

Tell me about it, I sigh internally. So much for trying to help, huh? Isabel refuses to talk to Max because she thinks they'll end up arguing and Max refuses to talk to her because… well, I don't really understand why he won't, but it's obvious that he's adamant about not doing it.

"I'm sorry," I say again.

"Cheer up, sweetie," adds Maria. "Whatever it is, it's your brother's problem. You shouldn't have to deal with his shit too, so what do you say to having a night of fun instead? Let's go watch Liz's show tonight and forget all about it for a while."

"Yeah, okay," she nods, giving Maria a teary smile. "Thanks, guys."

"No problem," I smile, but then catch a glimpse at the clock and so I stand up. "Speaking of the fashion show though, I have to get going, or I'll be late." I grab my bag from the floor and pull on my coat. "See you later on, guys."

"Break a leg tonight, Lizzie," says Maria. "We'll all be in the audience cheering you on."

"Thanks," I grin, nodding at both of them as I leave the room and head up to the Great Hall on campus for the show.


"You ready?" whispers Daniel, as we get into position on the dark stage for the first number – a contemporary-style number with semi-formal clothing provided by one of the small independent clothes stores just off the high street.

"Yep," I whisper back, as he places his hands on my hips, ready for the music to start. "Bit nervous."

Behind me, I feel his chest move against my back as he gives a silent chuckle, and my nerves are eased a little. A moment later, the first notes of the track begin and the lights go up. As we start moving on the stage, I feel a tiny bit shaky on my feet, but when Daniel lifts me up and spins my around in time with all the other dancing couples, all of the worries leave my mind and I let myself enjoy the spotlight.

The first half of the show seems to fly by and before I know it, it's time for the intermission. I spend a few moments chatting with some of the other girls about how it's going so far, but after having to spend the last hour crammed into a tiny dressing room, stripping down for costume changes in front of all of them, I decide to find a secluded spot in a quiet backstage area to get ready and prepare myself mentally for the second half – when Daniel and I will be doing our solo.

I close my eyes, pausing briefly in the adjusting of my outfit for the next dance - a black and purple swirl-print wraparound dress with a purple waist tie – to take a calming breath. I finish fastening the tie around my waist and then smooth down the front of the dress, before lifting my hands to my hair to check that it's still in place after doing the four energetic dances on stage so far.

"Nice outfit," comes a smooth voice from behind me, making me jump.

I spin around in surprise to find Max standing behind me, leaning against a wall with his hands casually crossed in front of his chest, an appreciative gleam in his eyes.

"Shit, Max!" I hiss, trying to recover from the shock of the intrusion. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that it's rude to sneak up on people?"

He just shrugs and shoots me a grin, "Nope."

I frown, "What are you doing back here anyway? No one's supposed to be backstage unless they're involved with the show."

"I am involved with the show."

I shoot him a funny look and shake my head, "No you're not."

"I am," he insists with a nod and a smirk. "I helped Sophie carry several boxes of stuff up here only a couple of hours ago."

I roll my eyes, although I can't help the small smile that tugs at my lips, "That's called 'helping out your housemate', not 'being involved with the show'."

He shrugs again, uncrossing his arms and taking a step towards me, his expression suddenly sincere.

"You look great up on that stage tonight," he murmurs, his gaze capturing mine fully now. "You're a really good dancer, Liz."

I feel my face flush at the unexpected compliment, "I, uh… thanks."

His lips curl up into a smile as he takes another step closer and I feel my breath catch in my throat at the odd expression on his face.

"Liz…" he murmurs, lifting his hand up to my hair and capturing a loose curl between his fingers. I feel my heart begin to pound in response to his closeness.

Is it me, or is it suddenly hot in here?

I see his eyes flicker to my lips and I can't stop my tongue from darting out to wet them in response, as I anticipate his next move. However as he closes the remaining distance between us, I feel a small wave of panic beginning to build up inside me. As much as I think I want him to kiss me, at the same time I'm scared to let him. I'm scared of what it will mean if he does and although I've been trying to deny it to myself, I'm scared of what will happen if I give into these feelings I have for him. I don't think I could handle it if he turned out to be a complete bastard like Kevin, my friend Jess' last boyfriend before Tom.

I gather up my courage and take a step back from him, my hair slipping from between his fingers as I move.

"I, um… I have to finish getting ready for the second half," I murmur, turning away from him and reaching for my compact to powder my nose.

However, the lack of sound from behind me causes me to turn back round again in curiosity. He's looking at me again, that strange expression still on his face – one that I'm not sure how to decipher.

"Do you mind?" I ask softly, indicating the powder in my hand.

"Nope," he murmurs, his gaze not wavering.

It's starting to make me feel a little self-conscious, so I clear my throat and try to steer the conversation somewhere else. "So, um, how are you doing?"

"Huh?" his eyes suddenly shift to mine, as if he's snapping out of a daze.

"You okay now?" I ask. "You seem a bit happier today than last week."

"Oh, um, yeah," he mutters distractedly. "I guess."

I dread the answer, but after talking to Isabel earlier, I have to ask, "So, um, did you think anymore about maybe talking to someone? Your sister, maybe?"

"Liz," he sighs. "I really don't want to talk about this."

"Look, I know it's hard, but have you thought about how she might be feeling about the situation?" He rolls his eyes, as if it were obvious. "Max, don't you think she – and your parents – deserve to know the real reason why you don't go home anymore?"

"I can't tell them, okay?" he snaps in annoyance. "God, can't you just leave it alone for once?"

"I don't understand why not," I respond. "Surely, talking about how you're feeling would only be a good thing?"

"No, it wouldn't," he mutters, as he turns his back to me, causing me to strain to hear his words. "If I tell them, it'll only ruin everything. They're doing fine without me, okay? They're a happy family and I can't be responsible for breaking that up."

I sigh, at his forlorn tone, "But Max, they're also your family. I'm sure they love and care for you and I'll bet anything that this is affecting them as much as it is you."

"You don't understand, Liz," he bursts out suddenly, spinning back round to face me. "I hate them, okay? My father is dead because of them. Even if I told my 'parents' the truth, it's not going to make me hate them any less."

"What about your sister, though; she's innocent in this, remember? I bet she's confused and upset that you've created this distance between the two of you. Maybe if you just explained your reasons, she'll understand."

"It's not that easy," he admits, facing away from me again. "She's a student here too now… it's hard enough to get her to leave me alone as it is; if she knew the truth, she'd probably try to get me to spend more time with her or something."

"Max," I start, feeling at a loss now over how I can help both he and Isabel fix things with their family. "Look, I understand that you're hurt and angry and I get why you don't want to, but this isn't just about you and your feelings of betrayal. You need to start looking at the bigger picture – this is tearing your family apart; it's tearing Isabel apart."

"What did you just say?" he demands, suddenly whirling back round again. "How do you know her name?"

"Max," I say again, shaking my head and sighing as I realise what I've just said. "I'm sorry. It's just…" I exhale heavily as I prepare to admit the truth, "…Well, your sister is one of my best friends."

"You what?" he exclaims, seemingly upset at the revelation. "How…?

"We live on the same corridor in halls," I supply softly. "Isabel and I."

"I see," he mutters flatly. "Of course; it all makes perfect sense now. You've known all this time?" he demands to know. "God, I bet she put you up to this, didn't she?"

"No, Max," I shake my head frantically, reaching out to touch his arm, but he shakes off my hand. "Izzy has no idea that we know each other. I found out by accident last week, when I overheard her talking to you on the phone."

"Well, that's just great," he bites out, looking toward the ceiling. "So, I'm guessing she's been telling you how much of a bastard I am, then, huh?" He looks down at me sharply, "You're not gonna tell her anything, are you?"

"Of course not," I assure him, slightly offended that he thinks I would break his confidence like that. "But she doesn't understand what's going on, Max. She thinks you're just being difficult and selfish to spite her and she's hurting because of it. Which is why I think you need to talk to her."

He runs a hand through his hair, "And I've already told you that I can't do that."

"But–"

"No, Liz," he snaps angrily. "You can't change my mind on this, okay? Why can't you just butt out and mind your own business for once?"

His angry words sting, but I force myself not to react to them.

"Fuck, I wish I'd never said anything to you the other week," he hisses. "I thought it would…" he pauses, leaving me wondering what he'd been about to say. "…But no, you just had to go and stick your nose in where it didn't belong."

"Well, excuse me for wanting to help you!" I hiss, his accusing tone suddenly too much for me to handle. "I guess I'll just keep my mouth shut from now on."

"Yeah, you do that," he spits.

"Fine!" I burst out; angry at the way the conversation is going. "God, you can be such a bastard sometimes, you know that?"

Max opens his mouth to speak, but a new voice gets there first.

"Hey, Liz, are you ready?" asks Daniel as he suddenly appears beside me. "The second half is about to start… oh, hey, Max. What are you doing back here?"

"Just helping Sophie out with some stuff," he lies as he straightens up and moves away from me, his jaw twitching in anger. "I'll catch you later, man."

I watch his retreating back until he's disappeared from view and then turn back to Dan, who is watching me curiously.

"What was that about?"

"Nothing," I tell him, as I rack my brains for a suitable cover story. "We were just arguing about where he'd put one of the costume boxes earlier. Come on, let's go – don't want to be late for the next dance."

As Daniel and I take our places on stage again, I try my best to put Max and our argument to the back of my mind, but even when the show is over and I'm getting into bed later on, I can't help but feel bad about trying to persuade him to talk to Izzie when it was obvious that he wasn't ready to do so. As I settle down and try to sleep, I make up my mind to apologise to him as soon as I can.

TBC…