The Price of Comprehension

I sighed, wondering how I had gotten to this place in my life so quickly. This time two years ago the biggest worry I had was whether Max liked me or not. Now, it feels like my head is going to explode, considering how many thoughts are flowing through it. Last night was supposed to be one of the most memorable events of my life, and I feel like I was watching everything happen instead of experiencing it. To make it worse, I had a sinking feeling the whole night that something terrible was going to happen soon. I tried writing it off as nervousness, but it did not go away. I knew I had to confront Max about what was going on between him and Tess. I guess I just didn't think he would recover so quickly. I mean, I told him what was on my mind, and he agreed, like I knew he would...I guess I just thought he would wait a few days. Or at least an hour. He didn't, though, and I guess I don't blame him. I mean, a 100-pound blondie who welcomes him with open arms. Who wouldn't want that?
"Liz?" someone called. Oh, God, if that is my mom I'm faking sick. What time is it anyway? I twisted around in the chair and found myself face-to-face with the one person I had not expected to see: Sean Deluca. I nearly choked, and not only because I was surprised to see him. He actually looked...well, decent. I knew my face was turning red, so I turned back around to avoid the crimson color that was creeping up my neck. "Uh, hey Sean," I said as I closed my journal and tucked it beneath my leg.
He walked around to the front of the yellow lawn chair and sat on the ledge of the roof. I was looking at the ground, trying to count all the cracks. I thought it would help me calm down, but instead it made me think of the bowling lanes. Last night, the prom had been...well, disappointing to say the least. I had felt so mixed up, and hurt, and confused. Sean made that all go away. I don't know how, and I'm not even sure why. I know that he made me feel safe, and for once, I didn't resent that. In the beginning, with Max, he had always tried to protect me, and that had been okay. Then, as time progressed, it got a little suffocating. It would be, "Liz, where are you going?" and "Liz, when are you coming back?" I felt like he was my father instead of my boyfriend. With Sean, though, it was different. I didn't feel suffocated. Instead, I felt cozy, and even content. At least, for the few hours I was near him. I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts.
"Hey, Liz. I have a question for you, if you don't mind?" he asked hopefully, leaning on his knees with his elbows. I nodded my head, saying, "As long as it isn't one of your theories, ask away." He laughed softly and straightened up. Guys like Sean never straightened up, so I knew he was serious. I took a deep breath, and prepared myself for another one of his theories, despite his assurance it wasn't. "Okay," he mumbled, almost so quietly I didn't hear him. He looked up from the ground and into my eyes. "Why did you come last night?" his eyes were so intense, and so captivating that it was hard to turn away. I fought myself and focused on the swaying branches of the tree, just to the left of him. "What do you mean?" I asked, not really wanting to know. He sighed, and started pacing the roof. It wasn't that big, so he didn't have much room. "This is what I mean. Last night was your prom, Liz.
Instead of enjoying it, you went bowling with me. I mean, we even had an argument about your date the other day, you saying how great he was. What is with that, Liz? I mean, from what I hear he's the man of your dreams. You sacrificed everything for him, and..." I didn't even hear the rest of the sentence.
What did he mean, "I sacrificed everything"? What the hell did he know? He didn't know anything about Max and me. He didn't know a thing about what I'd been through-he knew nothing about my relationship with Max. What right did he have to judge us? I interrupted him mid-sentence. "Wait a minute, Sean. Just what exactly do you mean by sacrificing everything?" I asked, a bit of resentment and anger creeping into my voice. Suddenly, he looked as if he had been electrocuted. His eyes became as wide as the ocean, and his mouth was slightly parted.
I was wondering what was wrong with him, when it hit me-he knows. Not only does he know about Max and my relationship, but he knows about all of them. He knows that they're...not from around here. He knows they have powers. He knows what happened at the Crashdown when I was shot. He knows that the FBI was looking for them. He knows that I saved the world by obeying Future Max. He knows everything.
I felt like my throat was closing. I wasn't breathing, I needed air. The world was spinning, and my head pounded. Make it stop, please make it stop! I screamed at myself. I could faintly hear Sean stumbling over a pretext, and then stopping to ask if I was okay. I felt as though my body weighed a thousand pounds, and I couldn't stand. What was happening to me? I wanted to scream, I wanted to say, "Please, help me, please!" but since I wasn't getting air I couldn't shout, talk, or even so much as whisper. I tried to form my lips around the words but they seemed foreign and unknown. My mouth was dry and hoarse. I stumbled around, trying to make the spinning stop. It was no use, and the whooshing colors and lights only made it worse. Suddenly, out of no where, warm, comforting arms slipped around me. They were strong, and they supported me. I allowed myself to collapse into them, relieving my body from the stress of standing. Who was it?

When I woke up, I was laying in my bed. The first thought that entered my head was, "Oh, my God, he knows." I shot up and glanced frantically around the room. A hand caught my shoulder and forced me to lay back down. "Close your eyes, Lisbeth, everything's fine," a voice from the right said. I immediately knew who it was. No one had called me Lisbeth in years. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the memories that were coursing through my mind. "Sean," I said weakly, still keeping my eyes shut. My voice was calm and steady, unlike my insides. "How much do you know? And how did you find out?" I asked, trying to sound as confident as I could. I heard an exasperated sigh come from around the same area as the voice had. "Okay, Lisbeth, you win. I'll tell you. However, you have to promise me you won't be angry, you won't open your eyes, and you'll relax." After I assured him I would comply with his orders, he began.
"Well, one day, I guess it was a couple of days after I got back from juvy, I was sitting at the counter in the Crashdown. I was eating a cheeseburger, like always, when I heard some voices in the back. I dismissed it as servers or you or maybe your parents. I decided to ignore it, since it really wasn't my business to begin with. I was almost finished with the burger when I heard the voices rise a few decibels. I didn't want to interfere, but if something was going on back there that was dangerous, I wanted to try and stop it, or at least help. So I resolved to get up and walk over to the doors. As I was approaching them, I heard Maria shout, "Michael, stop! Please!" so naturally, I rushed in. Man, nothing could have prepared me for what I saw."
I heard him run his hand through his hair and blow some breath out. I smiled, then caught myself. I was supposed to be upset. He shouldn't know some things, and these specific things were some of them. He started again, with more conviction.
"So I walked in, and Michael was washing the dishes. With no hands. He was standing next to Maria, and he was obviously focusing on the plates and rags. Maria was actually laughing. Well, that is until I walked it. Man, they both literally blew up at me. Maria screaming in one ear, Michael raging in the other. "Why did you come in here!" and "You shouldn't have seen anything!" and "Why were you out there anyway?" It was definitely not good for my ears. So anyway, after they finished shrieking at me, I told them to be reasonable. I had used the time they were screeching at me to calm myself and figure out what was happening. So I told them it was simple: they could either tell me the truth about what I had just witnessed, or I would go tell the cops. So, they gave me reproachful looks, but went off in a little corner and had a little conference. When they returned, they informed me that they concluded it was in their best interests for me to know the truth. So they told me, and after they were through, they threatened me with a million different things. I was shocked, shaken, and utterly bewildered about it all. Later that night, Maria came into my room and told me the whole story. Everything, start to finish. I think she just needed to get it out, and she didn't even care it was me she was telling. She was like a floodgate: once she opened up, she couldn't shut up. But hey-that's Maria for you."
He stopped and waited for me to comment. I was too stunned to say much of anything. He knew this whole time, and he didn't say anything. He knew what I was going through-actually, what I had been through-and he was trying to help me. Suddenly, I had the biggest urge to sit up and hug him. I didn't, though. Now that I think about it, I should have. He understood me, just as Maria had when I told her about the situation. He had deserved a best-friend hug like Maria had received. I opened my eyes and smiled. "Sean, I just want to say, to you, like, I don't know, I just..." he just smiled and said, "I know, Lisbeth. I know."
I'm not sure what time I fell asleep, but I know that he stayed until I was asleep. Secretly, inside, I was overjoyed that someone else knew the truth. Maria was the best person I knew to talk to, but sometimes her commentary got a little annoying. Or sometimes she would say, "Oh, God, Lizzie! You guys will totally work it out!" That was the kind of thing that made me a little wary. I just felt like screaming, "No! Maria, we are never going to work this out! Don't you get it! Never!" She was always uplifting, positive, and always an optimist, but sometimes that was too much for me. This wasn't something we could just "get over" or forget. Judging by Max, anyway, it wasn't something he could forgive, either. But I knew it was going to be like that. I knew he was going to hate me for what I had supposedly done with Kyle. And I guess I couldn't blame him. I mean, if he had done something like what I had done with...with Tess...I would have been more than upset. I probably would have attacked him. If I hadn't known it was a set-up, of course. Which, in my case anyway, it was.
I opened my eyes to find Maria straightening up the room. She was mumbling to herself something about Michael, but I couldn't hear if it was praise or disappointment. "Hey," I called to her. My voice was raspy and my mouth was still a little dry. She whipped around and ran to the side of my bed. "Oh, Liz!" she cried, wrapping her arms around my neck. I was definitely startled, to say the least, so I kind of jerked back. She released her grasp and sank into the chair Sean had occupied the night before.
"Maria, what's wrong? Did something happen with Michael?" I asked. Truly, I was curious. I didn't know why she was flipping out. Two nights ago, she had the best time of her life. At least that was what she had told me on the phone last night. She shook her head, still not saying anything. Her eyes were focused on one spot on the floor. She seemed almost entranced by it, letting it take her over. "Maria?" I prompted, trying to jar her from her reverie. She whipped her head up and stared lazily into my eyes. "Oh, it's nothing. It's just..." She seemed torn, trying to decide how much to tell me. Then a new look swept her face. It wasn't one I had seen before. Was it...disappointment? I tried to decode it, wondering if I had seen it before. She sighed, her shoulders slumping as she leaned back into the chair. "Sean didn't come home last night. He got home this morning, at around four." She stated, searching my face for some kind of reaction. I was busy being bewildered, not for the first time. He really was something. I mean, he stayed with me until four am? That was crazy! The only people that did crazy stuff were people that had disorders. People who had some kind of mental problem. However, there was another category. No, it's impossible. Or is it? Because the only other people I know that would do something like that are people that are...in love.
The whole day Maria pestered, questioned, and complained to me about Sean. Did I know anything? Did I see him? Had he mentioned anything? Finally I told her if she didn't stop that I would ditch my shift with her this afternoon. At least I got her to shut up. I was having a bad day already, and she was basically just adding insult to injury. I had a quiz in trigonometry and I couldn't even focus on it because I was in school, and school was the place where Proms happened. I now hate Mondays because...well, I have Biology last period. That means sitting with...him.
"Maria?" I asked as we were walking down to the quad for lunch. She was busy rifling through her purse, so she only mumbled a reply. I decided it meant 'go on' and proceeded with my question. "Am I unlovable?" I knew it was a dumb, stupid question, but I needed someone else's perspective. My parents were no help: "Of course not, Lizzie! How could you ever think that! Are you okay? Do you want to talk? Is someone making you uncomfortable? Do I not care about you enough? Do I not show enough support?" Maria stopped walking and looked at me intently. "Liz, how could you ever imagine that?" her voice was so steady, so adamant, surprised that I could even come up with a question as unimaginable as that. Her saying that I truly did feel loved-for a minute. After that minute, my brain kicked in. I saw the whole Prom night again, and I felt like I was dying-again. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down, but it didn't work. "I just...I mean, I thought I was in love with Max, then...well, life happened, and Tess came, and life sped up a little. Then his destiny took him away. I thought he loved me and we tried to pull through, we really did. Life was again getting too complicated, and I was confused...then last night I finally tried to put it to rest, the whole deal. I tried to tell him, and I really felt like he understood. Then I walked over to you, and he walked out of the gym. Then Michael came, and you two made up and started dancing, so I went to check on him, just to see how he was. I found him kissing Tess. Tess! The one person he said he didn't love. He didn't even wait a day. Or even an hour!" By this time, I was nearly hysterical, and Maria had led me over to a bench.
The hallway had cleared out, and we were alone. She was rubbing my back, hugging me. I was crying, I realized. I was sobbing, letting it all out. My body was quaking, and I felt like I was going to collapse. "I m-mean, someone who loves you doesn't do stuff like that, right?" I was looking for an answer I already knew. I didn't want to burden Maria; her life was going perfectly right now. If I could have, I would have stopped the whole breakdown. I couldn't, though. It was a release. It helped me put all my feelings in the open. I hadn't wanted to do that, because then I was vunerable, and that was scary. The only person I had ever done that with was Max, and I couldn't even trust him anymore. I felt like I couldn't trust anyone. She held me, throughout the whole lunch period. I felt like I was free. I felt as though I had no more worries. Then I remembered it was only fifth period, and I still had three periods to go-gym, economics...and Biology.

I walked into the Biology room, still feeling emotionally drained. Luckily, I was the first one there. I sat down at my usual spot, and put my books on the desk. I knew Max would be walking in soon, cause he was always early too. I glanced nervously around the room, wondering if I would be able to concentrate at all during the class. Suddenly the bell rang, and students started filing in. Finally my teacher, Mrs. Sprigs, walked in and shut the door. Max hadn't come in yet, and she was already starting the lesson. She took attendance, then gave us our instructions. I was to work alone, and if I needed help, I could ask her. I went and got my microscope and started working.
As I was adjusting the lens, I heard the door open. I looked up from my slide and saw Max walk in, blushing very heavily on both cheeks. As he got closer, however, I saw lipstick around his mouth and on his cheeks. He wasn't blushing; he had just been making out. He finally reached the table, after a scolding from Mrs. Sprigs. "Hey," he said softly, opening his book and getting out a pencil. "Hi," I said, still feeling uneasy and uncomfortable about what he had just been doing. My tone was a little harsh, but I was angry. "What's the lab?" he asked. I finished focusing my lens and looked up, my eyes meeting his. I said, to him, "Why don't you go ask Tess? Oh, wait. You were making out with her, why would she know?" He looked like I had slapped him in the face. Well, mentally, I pretty much did. I was so direct for once, not dancing around what I was feeling. My voice didn't quiver or falter, but instead it was strong and confident. I turned away and again started to focus on my slides. He got his own microscope and asked Faith, the girl in front of us, for help.
I focused on working for the whole period, and only looked at him when I had to. He seemed tired and lifeless, which was not what he usually was like. Had Tess changed him? Had she somehow forced him to be different? Or was it me, saying those harsh words to him? Had I caused him to change into a drone? I tried to reassure myself that nothing could change Max. We finished our labs just as the bell rang. He quickly closed his book and packed his thing up, rushing out the door. He didn't even say goodbye or help clean up with the microscopes. What was wrong with him? He acted as though he didn't even care about science or me, for that matter. I knew he used to love at least one of those. I fought back an urge to scream, and sought out Maria. I wasn't going to cry again-that just wasn't my personality. I
was, however, going to babble as much as possible. I needed to take my mind off of him.
I found her at her locker, searching through all the junk crunched inside it. Her expression seemed to be a mix of frustration and fear. "Hey," I said as I approached her. She briefly glanced up and smiled. "Hey." I studied her for a minute, trying to decide whether I should plunge into my problems or inquire about hers. She let out a yelp, and I quickly solved my dilemma. "Maria, what's wrong?" she turned around and leaned against the locker next to hers, groaning. She looked more exasperated than before. "Nothing. Well, something. I was supposed to turn in my paper for English, and I remember putting it in here, and now it's not here!" She threw up her hands and rolled her eyes. Suddenly I remembered that she was reading it to me when she woke me up the other morning. I mentioned this to her and she immediately slammed her locker and dragged me down the hall.
"We have to get it! It must be in your room!" she yelled, obviously overjoyed at the fact that she hadn't lost it. She looked quickly at her watch as we were running and declared we had 23 minutes until Mr. Plebe, her English teacher, left school. She continued to drag me through the crowd, jostling people as we ran. We were just running past the eraser room, when I saw two backpacks outside them. I dismissed them kid's bags, obviously leaving them there so they had more room inside. Then something caught my eye, just as Maria was yanking me past. A little green alien key-chain was attached to the black one. Max's bag. Suddenly, a fire so angry and so forceful began simmering inside. I quickly put it out, as Maria dragged me through the doors. Max and I were over, leaving him unlimited freedom and choices. I was not going to dwell on the past, and Max, however dispirited it made me, was in the past.
We jumped into her red Jetta and sped off towards my house. On the way we were singing to the radio, and laughing about something Alex had said earlier. We turned the corner, onto my street, and Maria gasped, slamming the car to a halt. I was a little confused. "What? What's wrong?" I asked impatiently. I could see her eyes well up with tears and she pointed a shaking finger down the street a block or two. There were at least three police cars, including the sheriff's truck, and two ambulances. They were all clustered outside the Crashdown. My home.

Concrete Tears

I didn't know what was going on. I felt like I was going to collapse, and it was hard to stand up straight. I shot out of the car, not caring about traffic, or the door, or even Maria. Something had happened at my house, and it could have to do with anyone-customers, my friends, or my family. I focused on the doors and sprinted as fast as I could towards them. I was about ten feet away when someone grabbed me and pulled me back. "Let me go, I live here!" I exclaimed, trying to wriggle free of his grasp. "Sorry, miss," he said, still having trouble keeping me away, "you can't go in there. It's a crime scene." I whipped my head around, my eyes drilling into his. "What do you mean? It's my house. It could be someone I know, or-my family." I guess he thought I didn't get the message because he tightened his grip and dragged me over to a bench. He sat me down on it and held onto my shoulders, because he was squatting. I felt like I was five.
"Are you Miss Elizabeth Parker?" he asked, trying hard to sound official. The question sounded strange to me. It was like they were searching for a fugitive or something. "Yeah," I answered, a little distracted by all the flashing lights, voices, and engines. He took a long look at my face. He glanced back at the diner and shook his head. "I'm very sorry, Elizabeth." My whole body tensed, a thousand theories flashing through my mind. What was he saying? Could it be my family? What was going on? I felt my eyes watering and I hastily wiped away the tears. "What?" I said angrily. "Just tell me, I need to know." He blinked a few times, looking hard into my eyes. "As I said before, you have my deepest apologies." He cleared his throat, I guess he was trying to choose his words carefully. "We received a 911 emergency call about an hour ago. Someone was reporting a break in, and a possible murder. Shots were fired, and we were unsure who was inside." He checked my face to make sure I was following. How could I not follow? In the next few moments, he could be determining the rest of my life. He decided I was paying attention, and continued his story. "We got over here to check it out, and found someone was dead. We didn't catch whoever it was, and the only witness was the person who called, only hearing the gunshots."
By this point, I was sure my heart had stopped beating. I was completely numb, as if my limbs were frozen, along with my head. Everything moved in slow motion, and it took me forever to process what was happening. I felt like I was falling, deeper and deeper into a hole. Someone in my family was dead. I didn't know whom it was, but they were never going to come back. "Who?" I whispered, more to myself, I think, than the officer. "Unfortunately, it was your mom." It was like I had received an electric shock. My mother was dead. The blood rushed out of my veins and my mind went blank. I was never going to see my mother again. She was never going to see me married. She was never going to read me a storybook, or bring me warm milk if I had nightmares, or even see my pictures from the Prom.
How could this happen to me? I mean, you always see those movies on Lifetime, but you never, ever think it could happen to you. My jaw went slack, and my eyes glazed over. Why? Why had something so disastrous and wretched happened to such an amazing person? She didn't deserve this, and my family didn't either. Suddenly, it hit me. Where was my Dad?
I sprang out of my seat, despite the officer's protests and bolted inside. The first thing I saw paralyzed me. I saw my mother's crumpled, bloody body lying dejectedly on the floor. My dad was bent over it, crying and holding her hand. He was shaking his head, trying it vain to bring her back, like it was some kind of nightmare and she would wake up any second. I saw all the years of happiness and love slipping from his grasp as he fought to hold onto one of the only things he had ever loved with his heart. They had been so happy, laughing and joking all the time. It was like some sort of weight had been dropped on his life, and, although I knew it wasn't forever, it would be. Because death always is forever, no matter how much you tell yourself you'll be okay. It's hard to listen to someone say that when you feel like your life has no meaning.
I felt the tears spill onto my cheeks, and I savored their salty taste as they ran into my mouth. "Daddy?" I whispered, not sure of what was going to happen. He jerked his head up, and his face startled me. His clear, blue eyes were rimmed with red and bloodshot. His cheeks had tear tracks down them, and they glistened in the harsh fluorescent light. His thin, brown hair was tousled, and his face looked gaunt, as if he were ten years older. I saw everything I had seen from his bent over profile reflected in his eyes. For some reason, somehow, I knew he was wondering the same thing I was-who was going to take care of us?
"Oh, God, Lizzie," he moaned and rushed to me, leaving his love as though he knew he had to take care of something that was now his life. My arms were hanging lifelessly at my sides until I felt him wrap his strong ones around me. I flung mine around his neck and cried, harder than I ever had before.
I had to know I had to ask why my mother wouldn't see her grandchildren. "H-how did it happen?" I asked through clenched teeth. We were still in mid-hug, but I needed to know. He sighed and untangled his arms from mine. The police were still swarming around the place, so he led me to a corner and sat down on the floor, Indian-style. He took my hands in his, and I felt an overwhelming urge to burst out in tears again. I tried to hold it in, though, because I really wanted to know about how my mom was shot. I mean, I had been in that position, too, just a few years ago. Then again, I hadn't died.
His eyes searched the spotless floor, as if trying to find what to say engraved in the tile. A tear slid down his cheek, and I couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. "It was a total accident, Elizabeth." He began, looking up at my face. "I was at the grill, because Michael's shift didn't start for another half-hour. She was behind the counter, trying to fix the register, and a man approached her. He put a gun to her head and told her to empty the cash register. No one else was in the restaurant so no one could stop him but me. I rushed out from the back, and he pointed the gun in my direction. Your mother screamed, and ran around the counter to try and protect me. He then shot her in the head. Then he ran." He finished with new tears running down his face, his eyes like two blocks of slate. They were cold, stony, and lifeless. He was staring at the cash register, and it looked like he was almost in a trance. I could tell he was thinking about the man. He shook his head and returned his gaze to my face. "Liz, I am so sorry," he said, choking up and pulling me in for another hug. "It isn't your fault," I murmured to him. I kept whispering that to him, repeatedly. Suddenly the bell clanged and we heard someone rush in, the police yelling at him from outside. I knew who it was.
"Liz!" he shouted, racing over to our tiny corner. He squatted down to our level. "Are you okay?" he asked, looking deeply into my eyes. I saw true concern written all over his face. At least someone cared about me. I nodded my head, not yet trusting myself to speak. "I got here as quick as I could, Mr. Parker. I was on my way over for my shift, and I saw all the cops, so I knew something was wrong." My dad, Michael, and I stood up. "It's okay Michael. You won't need to work today," my dad said, trying to joke around a little to brighten the mood. He gave me a hug and kissed my cheek, then walked over to the deputy.
Michael smiled weakly and asked another question. "So, what happened? A robbery? A fight?" he glanced around the room and a look of puzzlement swept across his face. "Where's your mom?" he asked as he looked at me. My eyes welled up with tears and my lips started to tremble. I stared at my mother's body on the floor. I couldn't tear my eyes away from it. It was intoxicating, like a heavy scent or an intense feeling. Michael finally followed my gaze and his body went rigid. His eyes focused and took it all in: the blood, her expression of fear, her open mouth. His jaw was clenched when he turned back to me. He said, as calmly as he could manage, "I'm going to find Max."
He started to turn away, but I grabbed the crook of his arm. "No, Michael." I choked out, tears again escaping my eyelids. "It's too late." I whispered. I started quietly sobbing, my hands covering my face. He stepped over and took me into his arms in a warm hug. I cried even harder then. He muttered calming things into my ear, but it was no use; I was inconsolable. I had never seen him show this much emotion for me, ever. It was comforting knowing I had friends who cared.
Finally, when I was done crying, he released me. I looked up at him with a splotchy face. "Did you see Maria out there?" I asked, hoping she had waited for me. He nodded. "Yeah. I was running in, and she called out to me, yelling at me not to go in there, but I didn't listen." He smiled a faint smile, and I nodded. That sounded like Maria. Michael glanced around and whispered, "Was it a, um...natural death?" he seemed almost embarrassed to ask, but I knew why this fact was important. It could have been the skins, Nikolas, or something else. I drew in a shaky breath and nodded again. "Yeah, um...some guy pulled a gun on my dad and my mom, and..." I choked back sobs, not wanting to start again, but having the words 'gun' and 'mom and dad' in the same sentence terrified me. It seemed like something that should be illegal or something. Michael took my hand and led me to the counter, grabbing the cordless phone on the way. We sat down, and he held out the phone to me. I looked at him with a pleading look and he understood. He turned the phone on and dialed Max and Isabel's number.
"Maria!" I yelled from the front doors of the Crashdown. The police were still milling about, filing reports, and looking for evidence. "Maria!" I screamed, searching the crowd for blond curls. Suddenly a hand shot up from the back. I heard a faint voice, unlike all the male officers. Then it became louder, "Liz! Back here, I'm coming!" and then her arms were around me, tight, comforting, and warm. She knew what to say without saying it. She held me for a long time, rubbing my back and rocking me. For the first minute I tried to restrain my tears. After that, it was too hard, and they streamed down my face. Then, just as suddenly as she appeared, so did everyone else. I was passed from arms to arms, not even knowing who I was hugging because my eyes were shut tight. I would feel the coldness of moving then the gentle warmth of another hug. I have no idea how many times it happened, or who I was hugging until I felt the last set of arms. I knew those arms, those big, strong arms, wrapped tightly around my small frame. I breathed in his fresh scent, losing myself in it. My body felt limp and I wanted to collapse. I took a deep breath, and my head felt full of air. My legs turned to jelly and I felt myself slipping away from the warmth. I saw myself falling, like in slow motion, my arms releasing his neck, my body slipping from his grasp. Then it all faded as my eyelids fluttered shut. The scene went black, and I heard no sound except my own terrifying scream. I felt something cold on my face, then the warm touch of someone's hand. I knew who it was, and I opened my eyes to find Max holding a washcloth and clutching my hand. "Hi," I croaked, my voice hoarse from not using it. He smiled, and leaned forward to kiss my forehead. For some reason I can't even explain, I jerked my head up and met his lips with mine. At first he was surprised, and jerked back a little, but then he fell into it, gliding his hand around my neck. It was one of the most soulful kisses I've ever had in my life, and the passion that engulfed it was unleashed. He moved back, and a grin spread across his face. My lips broke into a smile as well, and for the rest of the afternoon, we talked. When it had started to get dark out, we took my comforter and spread it out on my balcony roof. We just laid there, looking at the stars and whispering to each other. I'm not sure what time it was, but I fell asleep in his arms.

"Liz?" I heard a soft voice ask. "Liz, please answer me..." I suddenly woke up to find all of my friends scattered around the room. My night with Max had been a dream...just a dream. It hadn't really happened...of course it hadn't. My mother had just died why would anything good happen to me?
Isabel was sitting in an old wooden chair next to Max, her mascara running in black streaks down her cheeks. She had a tissue clutched in her hand near her chin, and she was still shaking, tears still dribbling down her face. Max looked as if a hurricane had swept up around him. His hair was messed up, and sticking out in different directions, He was slumped in the most comfortable chair next to Izzy, his legs spread apart, and his arms dangling over the arms of the chair. He was staring at me with lifeless eyes, penetrating me, as if he had caused me to wake up. I searched his face and saw his shirt was dotted with wet spots, obviously tears. Next to him was Michael, who had obviously been doing the same thing as Max-running his hands through his hair. He was sitting on the window ledge, his face in his hands shaking. Michael was crying? This was definitely something new, because I had never, ever seen Michael cry. I guess he felt me looking at him because he lifted his head and quickly wiped his eyes. Maria was laying down on the tiny bench below him, but she had woken up when I did, staring at me intently, waiting for me to speak. Tears were slipping down from her eyes, one after the other, and her face was a mix of fear, grief, and pain. Kyle was sitting on the floor below her, his face solemn and foreboding. He looked like his mother had died instead of mine, and he looked like he was actually in pain. He had been crying, I saw, just as Maria and Isabel had. He had two tear tracks from each eye. Right then, I actually felt a rush of emotion for him, and I knew he understood.
I glanced back to Max and saw something I hadn't before. Max and Isabel were sitting in front of my desk. I looked behind them and saw Tess sitting there in the shortest skirt I'd ever seen. She had on a little tank top, too, and her sandals were on the floor. Then I realized Max hadn't been running his hands through his hair, as if he were truly concerned and worried. Tess had been tousling it. Just as she was now, twisting her fingers around tiny pieces. She was looking downward, towards her feet. I was about to turn away when something gleamed in the light, catching my eye. I saw a single tear fall from her cheek.
I looked to my left and saw the owner of the voice, crouched at my side, clasping my hand. It was Sean. "Hey," He whispered, smiling as best he could. I tried to smile back, but my face felt like it was set in stone. My lips cracked and my cheeks felt like they couldn't stretch at all. I think it was because my cheeks were wet from tears and they salt set them. I don't know, maybe that's the scientist in me. I was under the covers, and I felt really hot, so I decided to take the covers off. I was just peeling them back when I realized I didn't have any clothes on except for underwear and a bra. I yanked them back around me, a blush creeping up my neck. Sean must have known, because he started to turn a bright shade of red too. I hoped to God he hadn't seen anything.
"Uh, let's give Liz some privacy, huh?" Sean said gruffly, standing up quickly and exiting. Everyone followed him out, Max leaving last. He had his hand on the doorknob, looking back at me, his eyes filling with tears again. He opened his mouth to say something, but I saw a pale, slender hand latch onto his and pull him away. He looked at the ground and closed the door.
I slowly slid out of bed, the sheet wrapped around me. I walked over to my closet and pulled out a pair of faded jeans. I them on, because they were my most comfortable. I pulled on a tank top too, but I was a little chilly, so I scanned the closet for a shirt I felt comfortable in. An old gray sweatshirt caught my eye and I tugged it off its hanger, yanking it over my head. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to get warm. I snuggled into the sweatshirt, and it had a clean, familiar smell. I searched my mind for what it was and finally came up with the answer. My mom had always used flowery-scented detergents and fabric softeners. My eyes welled up with tears again, and I scurried into the bathroom for a tissue before they spilled over and turned my face into concrete again. I grabbed a tissue and pressed it to my eyes, stopping the flow of my salty teardrops.
After a few minutes I was satisfied that my cementing tears were restrained. I tossed the tissue in the trashcan, taking a deep breath to steady myself. I calmed down a little and I turned and splashed some cold water on my face from the sink. In the process, I caught a flash of my reflection. It was like I was looking at myself, only a million years ahead.
I had dark circles under my eyes, and bags, too. My eyes were a dull, deadened brown instead of the bright, vibrant color they usually were. My face had formed tons of tiny wrinkles, and it looked as though I had a permanent expression of sadness plastered across my face. My hair was greasy and limp, and my lips were cracked and dry. I turned away, like something I had seen had offended me.
I pulled a hair band from my wrist and pulled my hair into a messy bun. Enough was enough. I was going to have to face the world, face my mother's death and, the hardest of all, face myself. I didn't move though, and my body felt like a bag of lead. I heard some voices drift up from downstairs and I suddenly remembered my friends were here. I might not be able to do everything by myself, but my friends could help me.

Maxie Brown Eyes

I flicked on my CD player and turned up the volume a little. I sat on the bed, opened my drawer to my night table and pulled out my journal just as Lifehouse's "Unknown" started playing. I opened my journal to write, but no clear thoughts came. The scene of my mother lying on the floor kept invading my thoughts. I watched as the drops of water hit the clear page. By the time I had counted 9, I slammed the journal shut and shoved it in the back of the drawer. I hastily wiped my eyes with my sweatshirt. It was nice and soft, and I didn't ever remember wearing it. I looked down and saw it said West Roswell High on it. I wondered when I got it, because I had never ordered it...then I remembered. One night, a long, long, time ago, Max and I went to the rocks near the pod chamber. It was really chilly, so Max gave me his sweatshirt. Was it some kind of sign? Was I truly supposed to be with Max?
I slipped off the bed and walked towards the window. I crawled out, letting the cold breeze refresh my face. It blew my hair around, and for a second, just for one second, everything became clear. Max was with Tess. It was supposedly his destiny...but what about me? Did I count for anything? Then all of a sudden, the wind picked up, and my hair swirled around me like a tornado. I couldn't see anything, but the wind was so powerful that I nearly felt my feet being lifted off the ground. The wind stopped, and I dropped to the ground, scraping my leg. "Damn it..." I muttered. I looked up, searching for the cause of the sudden severe wind, and consequently met a pair of big brown eyes. Max's eyes.
Only, he looked completely different. It looked almost as if he was...a ghost of some sort. He wasn't completely solid, yet he wasn't transparent either, and he looked almost as if he was a hologram of some sort. I looked up at him and fell into his piercing chocolate eyes. He was wearing exactly what he had on earlier-faded blue jeans, a dark green sweater with a white shirt underneath. I always told him that the darker colors made his hair look even darker. His hair was always my favorite feature of his.
He smiled a little, almost as if he were surveying me from a distance without me seeing him. His eyes were placid, yet almost searching, the way they penetrated my own with the stare I knew so well. He nearly looked like he was studying me. Which, in part, I felt he almost was with his face the mask of a curious and thoughtful person. He had his hands in his pockets, but his stance was one of contemplation, almost reflective. His head was slightly tilted to one side, his eyebrows lightly contracted.
I, on the other hand, was still splayed out on the cement, my leg bleeding a little. I pushed myself up off the ground, and watched as his eyes followed my every movement. In no way did I trust myself to speak, and yet I disobeyed my own conscious. I looked towards the ground, searching for something to say. "Max?" I asked, my voice soft and slightly raspy. I looked up, seeing him walk slowly towards me releasing his hands from his pockets. His steps were uncertain, almost hesitant, but he continued without faltering. He was unconsciously biting his lip, not sure how to proceed, I could tell. I raised my hand to touch him, but he held up his hand to stop me. He shook his head slowly, trying to communicate to me not to touch him. I knew not why, but I backed away a little. He reached in his pocket and produced a small necklace. He spread it out on his palm, and I saw it was a sliver chain, twisted around to look braided. There was a locket too, but not a heart-a star. I teased Max about being from "up North", and now he gave me a because that was a part of him-outer space...up North. He turned the small star over in his fingers to reveal an inscription that I could not read from this far away. He closed his fist around it and looked up at me. His small smile was sheepish, a flush growing on his nearly transparent cheeks. Suddenly he tossed the chain with the star in the air, but for some reason it did not fall-it hung, as if suspended by an invisible hook. The star glowed and something glittery shot out of it. Then, out of nowhere, the inscription formed in tiny stars.
"Liz-my love, my light, my everything. You are my only star."

I gasped, and his other hand shot out from his side and the radio flicked on. "Everything" by Lifehouse drifted across the roof.


I just wanted to say thanks to all of you who reviewed my story-I'm glad you like it! Here's the next part, as requested!


I couldn't tell if I was dreaming, delusional, or if I had hit my head when I fell. All I knew was that I was