CHAPTER 17
Juggling her history book in her hands, Maria walked down the nearly empty hall. Late again. If she hadn't taken the time to stash her other books in her locker...Oh well. Just this one class to get through--if she could remember any of the facts she'd memorized about world exploration in the sixteenth century, anyway--and then it would be off to rehearsal. She gave a happy little skip as she remembered that Alex would be there that afternoon. For some reason he'd talked the other combo members into joining the cast a week early. It would be rough, but they'd pick the music up as they ran scenes. Plus Aaron had already been playing for rehearsals, and he'd help guide the musicians through. Maria could hardly wait for Alex to join them--she would feel so much more confident with his quiet support.
Her mind on the afternoon ahead, Maria was understandably taken aback when a large hand suddenly grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into the eraser room, pushing her past before closing the door tightly behind them. Turning back towards the door, she opened her mouth to scold, but closed it abruptly. Michael. In the eraser room. She shivered as a sudden fit of déja vu struck her. This had happened before--but when?
Visions of a weirdly frightening Liz, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and endless flights of stairs tumbled around in her mind before she latched onto the dream she'd had the night before. In her dream, Michael had pulled her in to the eraser room, just like this, to tell her he was himself--and to profess his love for her. Now here he was, pulling her into the eraser room again, for real this time.
She swallowed as her mind continued to race. What if it hadn't been just an ordinary dream? What if it was a precognitive one? Sure, she'd never had one before, but there was a first time for everything, right? Maybe it was all going to happen for real. Maybe he'd tell her--
She sucked in a gasp of air. "Michael?" she said hopefully.
He didn't answer, instead looking right over her head and saying flatly, "See, I told you."
What? She turned and looked behind her, at whomever he was addressing. Well, well. Isabel. Okay, even in her most frightening dreams, she'd never imagined herself in the eraser room with Michael and Isabel!!
"Let me see," the tall girl instructed.
Maria tried to be nonchalant about it. "See what?" she asked innocently.
Michael was instantly by her side, pushing back the wave of hair she'd so carefully arranged over her forehead that morning. "This," he specified calmly.
Darn it! It really wasn't that bad--yeah, a lump and a slowly darkening bruise, but she'd had bumps and bruises before. Besides, she'd really wanted to keep it hidden. To avoid a situation like this one. Because, frankly, she felt really stupid about it. She hadn't fallen out of bed since she'd graduated from her crib into a 'big girl' bed. And she wasn't a toddler any more, after all. "It's nothing," she said in an attempt to blow it all off.
"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" Isabel said kindly. "Hold still." She lightly ran her fingers over Maria's forehead, healing it. "There," she added in satisfaction, "now it's nothing."
Maria put her hand up. Her forehead was once again smooth and unbruised. "Thanks," she said simply.
Isabel smiled warmly. "No problem," she returned airily. Maria smiled. Maybe she was going to get out of this without having to embarrass herself after all.
Their moment of bonding was interrupted by a gravelly voice. "What happened? Who hurt you?"
Oh, fantastic. Just what she'd wanted to avoid. "Nothing hap--Wait. What do you mean, who hurt me? No one hurt me. It was an accident."
"Okay, so who accidentally hurt you?" Michael shot back. Was that a flicker of emotion across his face? Why was he getting so upset over a little bruise?
Isabel caught Maria's eye before shooting a pointed glance at Michael, whose hands were clenched tightly. "You'd better tell us," she advised. "Before Mr. Calm here starts accidentally exploding things."
Oh, great. Double great. Fine. They wanted her to embarrass herself? Okay, she would. What was a little humiliation between friends? God, the things she did for these Czechoslovakians...
"Fine. I just had a little nightmare and...and I fell out of bed, okay?" she admitted, her face flushing as she spoke. "Just me being klutzy again. No big deal." She looked up to see Isabel's eyes dancing in amusement. "So not all of us can be perfectly graceful all the time, oh perfect one."
With a little laugh, Isabel said, "You've obviously never seen me on a bad day."
"Seen you on a bad day? I didn't even know you had them," joked Maria.
Isabel rolled her eyes and then asked, "You're fine now, right?" At Maria's nod, she teased, "Well then, maybe you should borrow a sleeping bag for the floor. Might be safer."
Maria grinned. "Not with my luck." She decided that turn about was fair play; her turn to tease. "So what exactly were you and Spaceboy here doing alone in the eraser room anyway, hmmm?" she asked, raising one eyebrow mockingly.
Isabel laughed, "You know, a little of this, a little of that--"
Michael, his face once more impassive, interrupted, breaking the jovial mood. "We were waiting for you."
Huh. Spaceboy had no sense of humor. "Well, you found me. And healed me--thanks again, by the way--so now may I go? I'm late for a history class. So are you, as a matter of fact, Michael," she pointed out.
"You go ahead. I just need to check on a few things first," he said cryptically.
"I'm late too," said Isabel. "See you later!" and she was out the door.
Maria looked carefully at Michael. She'd been really good--hard though it was--and had left him to his own devices, giving him the space he said he needed. Should she take this opportunity to press him about his situation? Well, no time like the present. History could wait; here she went. "Michael," she began, only to stop as he looked at her, his eyes flat and dull. Hmmm...maybe this wasn't such a good time after all. Okay, switch topics.
"So why did you think someone hurt me, anyway?" she asked in an attempt to make conversation. Her lack of real interest reversed itself immediately when he looked away sharply. This was interesting. What was he thinking? "Well?" she prodded.
"No reason. I just saw the bruise in English this morning."
"And you leapt to the conclusion that someone had been hurting me?"
His stared down at her. "It's not like it hasn't happened before."
"It has not! I haven't--"
"That's not what I mean. I meant I've been known to jump to the occasional conclusion, all right?"
She snickered. "You could win the Gold Medal in Olympic Conclusion Jumping, Michael. But just because someone has a lump on their forehead, it doesn't mean that--" His eyes shifted away from her and she came to a sudden realization. "Look, not every bruise is made on purpose. Sometimes accidents happen. This was one of those times."
He didn't look at her as he responded, "It's just...I thought...You shouldn't have to go through that, that's all. You don't deserve that."
Stepping closer, Maria put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "No one deserves it, Michael. No one. Got that?"
He shrugged her hand off and didn't answer. Her frustration with him began to reach a boiling point. "Look, you need to stop putting the blame for everything squarely on your own shoulders. What Hank did to you wasn't your fault. You are not the cause of everything bad that happens, all right?"
He opened his mouth to speak, but she rushed on, "No. Horrible things happened in the world long before you hatched, and they probably will a long time after you fly off and save your home planet or whatever. So would you please give yourself a break from all this guilt already, because frankly, it's pretty self-centered to think that you're the cause of everything that goes wrong! Contrary to what you might think, you are not a screw-up! God, why are you so caught up in your own misery that you can't see things for the way they really are?"
She looked up at his blank expression. His mouth worked for a moment, but he seemed unable to find any words. Her voice gentled as she went on, "Just stop blaming yourself for everything, okay? And while you're at it, take some of that quality blame time and apply it to working on your little Jeckyll-and-Hyde problem instead."
Michael tensed. Uh-oh. Maybe she'd gone a little too far there. Her suspicions were confirmed as he coldly said, "Maybe I could if you weren't always bugging me about it. Stop trying to play Dear Abbey with me. You can't magically fix everything. You don't have any idea what's going on."
Hands on her hips, she eyed him angrily. "Fine. I'll keep my nose out of it, and let you waste your time on your little self-pity party. You want me out, I'm out. But then you keep out of my life. You no longer have the right to worry about me, got it? Stay away from me, Michael Guerin. Because I can't do this any more." Heading into the hall, she closed the eraser room door firmly behind her, leaving a silent--and uncertain--Michael in her wake.
"And that's when I walked out," finished Maria calmly. "Left him standing all alone in the eraser room."
"Wow," said Liz in shock, leaning limply against the bathroom counter. "Somehow I never pictured you walking out on him. The other way around, sure, but...Wow."
"I just can't take it any more, you know? I don't understand why he won't let me help him. Why he won't let any of us help him, for that matter. I don't even think he's doing anything to help himself. He's just sitting there like a...like a lump, waiting for god only knows what to happen. And then when he finally does do something, it's to obsess over something totally unimportant instead of concentrating on getting better!" Maria exclaimed in frustration.
Liz sighed as the blonde girl's voice rose in pitch once again. Oh well. At least she wasn't still pacing maniacally across the rest room floor. "Look, just give it some time. Have some patience, okay?" Liz asked quietly.
"You know what? No," Maria responded firmly. "I gave him time and he did nothing with it. That's it. I can't give him any more. I am off him. Quitting cold turkey." She caught Liz's eye and smiled wryly. "So do you think they make a Michael patch?"
Liz couldn't help but chuckle a little as her friend attempted to resume some of her typical determination. "Maybe if Michael were--" she began, only to be interrupted.
"Who? I'm sorry, I don't know anyone by that name," Maria said stoutly.
"Maria!"
"No way, Liz. He doesn't want me in his life, fine. Then from now on he's not in mine. As far as I am concerned he doesn't exist."
Liz sighed and tried again. "Maria--"
"I'm serious. I declare the space around me a Michael-free zone," she said adamantly. "And as my best friend, you'll help me out with this."
"Of course I'm your best friend, Maria," Liz burst out. "We've been friends practically forever. But Michael has become a friend, too. And right now he needs all the friends he can get. Please don't make me choose you over him."
"That's not what I mean!" Maria responded hotly. "If Michael...well, if such a person really existed--which as far as I am concerned he doesn't--I would want him to have good friends like you. I don't want to take that away from him. I just can't...wouldn't be able to be one myself. If he existed. Which he doesn't." She looked squarely at Liz, her expression serious. "I'm not asking you not to be his friend, Liz. Just don't parade it in front of me, okay?"
Liz nodded, saying, "I won't."
"Thanks. You're a good friend," said Maria gratefully. She smiled at Liz before continuing, "A really good friend, actually. I can't believe you skipped last period to listen to me vent. Keep this up, Parker, and you'll ruin that perfect-student image."
"I'm not the only one here skipping," Liz pointed out.
"No, but somehow I don't think the teachers will be quite as shocked by my absence."
Liz tried to protest, but the ringing of the bell put an end to it before she could really begin. Maria grabbed her bookbag off the counter and said, "I've got to book. Rehearsal calls."
The two girls left the restroom and joined into the flow of students moving down the hall as Liz responded teasingly, "My, aren't we eager."
"Yeah. I'm really kind of excited. Alex is going to be there this afternoon," Maria explained as they headed towards the staircase. "Finally, a friendly face."
"Are things really that bad?" questioned Liz.
Maria didn't answer, distracted as she thought she felt a familiar tingle. Darn it. She thought she'd avoided having to see him when she'd chosen to spend last period venting to Liz instead of actually attending History class. This just sucked. No, she wouldn't let it get to her. She wouldn't even look around in an attempt to catch one quick glance. She would just focus on Liz. Her best friend. Her pal. Her...
Oops. Liz. What had Liz just asked? Something about rehearsal. She fumbled for an answer. "Are things that bad?" she echoed her friend's question. "Not really, I guess. When I'm acting, it's great. I really love it, you know. I can absolutely lose myself in Audrey, and just deal with her problems for a while. Which actually seem kind of simple compared to mine." She smiled a little. "It's just between scenes when things are a little rough. I'd like it if--" The rest of her thought went unspoken as she suddenly lost her footing and, with a yelp, slid down four or five steps. Unable to keep on her feet, she landed sprawled on the bottom-most step.
"Oh my god! Maria!" cried Liz, rushing to her side. "Are you all right?"
A crowd of students formed around the fallen girl, who struggled to catch her breath. "I..I think so," she stammered, pushing herself to a sitting position. A moment later a tall figure pushed through the crowd and offered her a hand up. "Thanks, Max," she said, "But I think I'm just going to sit here for a minute."
Max knelt beside her and looked worriedly into her face. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, over the comments and titters from the crowd around her.
She assured him, "Yes, I'm fine," then continued loudly, "Show's over!" in an attempt to hide her embarrassment. Looking up at the sea of faces around her, she went on in a wry tone, "For my encore, you'll have to come see Little Shop of Horrors, 'cause this is all there is for now."
With a few chuckles, the students began to disperse, off to their jobs and club meetings and, god forbid, study sessions. Maria closed her eyes for a moment, only to open then again at Liz's insistent, "Maria! Something is wrong. I can tell."
"I think I did something to my ankle," the girl admitted. "The right one."
"Can you move your foot?" Liz asked, concerned. She reached gently towards her friend.
Maria forestalled her motion. "Ummm, let's just not touch it for a minute."
"Does it hurt badly?"
"Not really. Just don't touch it, okay?"
Liz turned to Max. "If it was twisted or sprained, it would probably hurt," she said quietly. "If she can't feel it, it might be broken. The shock might keep it numb for a while."
"I'm right here," Maria said crossly. "You can talk to me, you know."
"Sorry," Liz apologized.
"It's all right. I'm sure it's not broken, just a little twisted, that's all. An ace bandage and some Epsom salts and I'll be fine." Maria braced herself and then started to push herself to her feet. She didn't get far. "You know, I think I'll just sit here and rest a few more minutes. Why don't the two of you run by the auditorium and tell Ms. Bedinger that I'll be a few minutes late?" she suggested hopefully.
Max spoke up. "I don't think so. You're hurt. We're not going to leave you sitting here by yourself while we run errands, Maria."
"Come on. I'll be fine." Maria's tone shifted. "I'd do it for you!" she wheedled, to no avail.
"You won't be fine. Your ankle's beginning to swell," Liz pointed out.
"Okay, it's time for Dr. Max," the tall alien said decisively. He looked around at the rapidly emptying halls. "Liz, grab our books and find an empty classroom, okay?"
With haste she complied, as he picked up Maria unceremoniously and rose to his feet. "I'm not luggage, you know," Maria complained. "You can't just lug me all over--Oh. I guess you can."
"Over here," Liz said, holding the door open. "Put her on the desk." She kept an eye on the hallway to make sure no one approached as Max deposited the wounded girl carefully on top of the teacher's desk.
"This might hurt a little bit," he said, reaching for her shoe to ease it off.
"I told you, it doesn't hurt at all," insisted Maria. "Ouch!" she hissed suddenly as her ankle accidentally shifted.
Max rested his fingers lightly on her swelling joint and closed his eyes in concentration. It was broken, all right. A small fracture where the ankle joined into the foot. She must have twisted it just the wrong way when she fell. He sent energy into the bone, healing it and reducing the swelling of the tissue around it. When he was done, he looked down at Maria. "It was broken," he told her. "You should be fine now."
"Thanks," she said, smiling up at him. Gingerly, she swung her legs over the side of the desk and slowly stood up, testing the ankle. "It does feel fine," she said. "You do good work."
"You still have one problem," said Liz, pointing at the silver fingerprints on Maria's ankle. "I don't think people are going to buy that it's a temporary tattoo."
"Not a problem at all," insisted Maria airily. "I'll just grab my sneakers and an extra pair of socks from my gym locker. The big question is why are there fingerprints on my ankle when there weren't on my forehead?" Max looked curiously at her, and she realized she'd have to explain. Fantastic. Now everyone would know about her clumsiness. Isabel and Mi--well, Isabel knew, and she'd told Liz, and now Max would know. Maybe she should just rent a billboard. "It's nothing," she said briefly. "Last night I had a nightmare and fell out of bed. I got a lump on my forehead. Today Isabel fixed it, that's all."
Max nodded, and said, "Fixing a lump isn't as difficult as fixing a broken bone. That's probably why there are fingerprints now and not before, and why Liz had an entire handprint after she was shot."
"After you saved my life, you mean," Liz reminded him with a smile.
"You and Isabel should go into the medical profession," Maria bantered. "You could make a fortune, just patching your friends up."
"I'll keep it in mind," he said.
"Of course," Liz teased, "if Maria weren't so accident-prone, you might not have such a big client base." The joking expression on her best friend's face immediately vanished. "What?"
Maria hesitated before saying resolutely, "You have to promise not to tell Michael." Liz raised her eyebrows at the voluntary mention of this particular name.
Max, who didn't know about Maria's sudden purposeful ignorance of a certain alien's existence, merely asked, "Why?"
Maria looked at the two people standing in front of her. "Because this time it wasn't an accident. I think I was pushed."
TBC...