CHAPTER 48

Alex didn't even have to look to know how tense Michael had become. Although the alien's face remained stoic, Alex knew him well enough by now to tell that he was not happy with Mark's presence. His hands were curved inwards, just a step away from clenched, and his chin was set stubbornly. Thankfully he didn't say anything; he just crossed his arms over his chest and waited for Melanie to speak.

Unfortunately, the actor spoke first. "I see you brought in the cavalry," he commented with a nod in Alex's direction. "Too scared to talk to a girl by yourself, Guerin?"

Great. Looked like Mark wasn't too happy with Michael either. But Michael didn't so much as blink in response to the senior's goading. Alex let out a mental cheer and remained where he was. The only one who reacted was Melanie, who looked up with a frown on her face. "Oh, come on, Mark. Be nice." She lifted her eyes to Michael. "Thank you for meeting me. I need to talk to you about the notes."

Raising one eyebrow, Michael waited impatiently for her to continue.

She hesitated. "Maria and Alex wouldn't tell me anything yesterday, but...the notes you showed me, the ones you thought I wrote...someone's been leaving them for Maria?" At Michael's brief nod, she shook her head. "I didn't lie yesterday. I hadn't seen them before. But..." She paused. "I recognized the handwriting. I think Pamela Harris wrote them. And...and it's my fault."

"Why?" Michael ground out.

Melanie flushed. "We were both kind of mad when Maria came out of nowhere and got the lead in Little Shop," she began. "I mean, we've worked our way up from chorus roles over the last three years, and Pamela...well, she really thought that it was her year."

Scowling, Michael burst out, "So Maria got to be harassed and threatened all over a part in a stupid play?"

"I told you. He just doesn't get it," Mark put in.

"Well, why don't you explain it to me then?" challenged Michael, taking an angry step towards the actor. "Tell me how you can justify what's been done to her."

This wasn't getting them anywhere. Alex stepped between them. "Okay, guys, let's take it down a notch and let Melanie finish, all right?"

His mouth in a thin line, Michael resumed his former position, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.

"It's not just the play," Melanie admitted. "See, Pamela used to go out with Mark, but they broke up over the summer. Well, he broke up with her. But since then, she's acted like they were still together, when he was really seeing..." Her voice trailed off.

"You," said Michael bluntly.

She looked startled, but nodded. "Yes. And I didn't want to tell her, because, well, she's my friend, and you shouldn't go poaching your friend's exes, but, well, Mark and I get along really well, and it just...happened."

Michael studied her for a moment. "And Maria got dragged into this because..." he said leadingly.

"Because Pamela saw Mark with another girl, but she was too far away to tell it was me, and when she told me about it, I..."

Michael's voice was cold. "You told her it was Maria."

"Yes," Melanie whispered.

"And Pamela started her little hate campaign."

"Yes. But I didn't know that until yesterday. If I had, I would have told her it was me. Honestly." Michael didn't look convinced.

Remembering Maria's fall down the stairs, Alex spoke up. "You know Pamela the best. Would she act on any of the threats? You know, try and get revenge?"

Melanie shook her head rapidly. "Oh, no. She talks big but she doesn't really act on things, you know?"

Alex exchanged a look with Michael, and the alien said slowly, "So why didn't you tell me all this yesterday?"

"Because you scared the shit out of her, you jackass!" Mark shouted.

Melanie nodded, more calmly than her erstwhile boyfriend. "You did. You can be kind of...intimidating, you know? But then this afternoon, when I heard that you and Maria were together, it all made a lot more sense."

"When you heard what?" Michael said softly, a hard look in his eyes.

"When I heard about the two of you," she faltered. "Everyone's talking about it. And then I understood why you were so angry when you thought I wrote the notes."

"We're not together." Michael ground out.

"But--"

Alex cut her off. "Look, this is about what happened at lunch today, isn't it? You know how the West Roswell gossip mill can get things blown out of proportion. Mark was there. He can tell you what really happened." He wasn't too happy about leaving Maria hanging up to dry, her feelings exposed, but he wasn't sure how much longer Michael was going to be able to handle this particular topic of conversation.

Melanie just looked confused. "So you two aren't seeing each other?" she asked Michael.

Between gritted teeth, he forced out, "No."

"Well, maybe you should be," said Mark.

Michael rounded on him. "What? You were the one telling me to stay away from her, all for the sake of your precious play!" Alex looked at Mark, startled. No wonder Michael disliked him.

With a shrug, Mark explained, "Well, maybe I was wrong. She's so fixated on you, maybe your staying away would be more of a distraction than your hanging around."

"She is not fixated!" Michael hissed.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever," Mark drawled. "But go ahead. Get back together. It might be for the best."

Alex winced. Not the best way to handle an angry, able-to-blow-you-up-with-his-mind alien. Of course, Mark didn't know that was who he was ordering around. One move of Michael's hand, and the actor could be toast.

And then Michael did shoot out his right hand. Alex watched in shock; he had just been kidding about blowing Mark up. But all the alien did was grab Mark by the shirt front, pulling him closer so he could shout in his face. "I didn't stay away from her because of what you said, and I'm not listening to you now, either! I don't give a damn for your stupid play, hear me?"

"Michael," Alex said in warning.

The alien paid him no heed. "Maria is not someone to be manipulated in order to get a good performance out of her. She has feelings. She deserves better than that!" He shoved the senior away, releasing his shirt. Mark stumbled backward for a few steps, but finally caught his balance.

"Mark?" Melanie whispered. "Did you really do that? Try and tell people what to do, and how to feel?"

"Yeah, so what?" he answered, straightening his collar. "You want the play to be good, don't you?"

She looked up at him, a crease between her eyebrows. "You know what?" she finally said. "You should go back to Pamela. I think you two deserve each other." With that, she staunchly turned her back on him.

"Come on, Mel," he began, but was cut off by one word.

"Go," she ordered. He stood there for a moment, not quailing under the glares from Michael and Alex. Then, with a shrug, he went.

Alex turned and looked at the two people still standing with him in the hall. He didn't miss the fact that, even with Mark gone, Michael fairly bristled with anger. Better get rid of Melanie first, then deal with Michael. That seemed like the best option. But before he could speak, Michael turned abruptly to the girl. "Do you know Pamela's class schedule?"

"Yes," she answered, startled.

"What's her last class of the day?"

"Spanish. Why?"

Michael turned to Alex, ignoring her question. "Which staircase did Maria fall down?"

"I'm not sure," Alex answered. "I could ask her. Or Liz or Max would know."

Melanie interrupted. "Wait a minute. Maria fell down some stairs? And why did you need to know Pame--Oh my god. You think she had something to do with it?" she gasped. "No way. I told you, she wouldn't act on anything. The notes I can believe, but that she would...No. No way. When did it happen?"

Michael looked to Alex for the answer. "It was a Tuesday," the teen answered. He racked his brain. "Tuesday a couple of weeks ago."

Melanie closed her eyes for a moment, trying to think. Then she crouched on the floor and started rummaging through her backpack. A moment later she triumphantly pulled out a student planner and stood. "Was this the Tuesday before Halloween?" she asked in an urgent tone, flipping through the pages of the planner. Alex nodded.

"Then Pamela couldn't have had anything to do with Maria's fall," she said. "That day was the trip to the state capitol in Santa Fe. It was for Government class; all the seniors went. We barely got back in time for rehearsal that afternoon. We went straight from the bus the auditorium." She looked up at Michael. "Are you sure she didn't just fall?"

Michael looked away, not answering. Seeing the tense set of the alien's shoulders, Alex went back to his original plan: get rid of Melanie and then deal with Michael. "Thanks for telling us about the notes, Melanie," he said. "We'll tell Maria about them." He hesitated, then continued, "We will need to confront Pamela, you know."

She nodded, speaking quietly. "I know. Ummm...I think I'm going to head home now. See you at rehearsal tomorrow, Alex. Goodbye, Michael."

Alex watched her walk down the hallway. After a moment, Michael spoke without looking in his direction. "You can tell Maria about the notes but you can't tell her about Mark," he said hoarsely.

"What?" asked Alex, turning towards him.

"The play is the best thing in her life right now. And she likes him. She thinks he's a friend. We can't ruin it for her by telling her how he...used her."

Alex objected. There had been too many secrets already. "She has the right to know."

Michael's eyes met his. "She's having a good time with it. Don't take that away from her, Alex. She deserves it."

Alex studied him, then decided. "I won't tell her before the show closes. If you'll promise to tell her afterwards."

Michael ran a hand across his face. "I can't. You know that!"

"Why not?" Alex questioned reasonably.

"I just can't, Alex. Don't make me give you a promise I know I can't keep."

There was a pause as Alex closed his eyes before speaking. "All right. I'll tell her. And I'll wait until the play is over."

"Good." With a shake of his head, Michael began to pace up and down the hallway. Alex watched as he struggled with whatever was going on in his head, figuring that the alien would tell him when he was ready to. Finally, Michael spoke. "Tell Maria and the others about the notes. You'll have to figure out how you want to approach Pamela." He grimaced. "I'm sure Maria will have some ideas."

Alex looked at him in surprise. "What? You're the one who's been so gung ho on identifying the stalker, and now you're going to wash your hands of it all? I figured you'd want to approach Pamela yourself."

"I can't, Alex! Do you have any idea how pissed off I am right now? I could barely keep a lid on things long enough not to decimate that jerk. Why do you think I wanted you here in the first place? I can't control this. Hell, I could very easily snap and take you out right now."

Alex looked at him calmly. "You're not going to do that."

Running both hands through his hair, Michael squeezed his eyes shut. "No, I'm not. But I could, so easily." His mouth tightened. "Just tell them, all right? I gotta...I gotta get out of here."

Alex watched in concern as Michael stalked down the hall towards the door, barely stopping long enough to punch out a locker on his way. With a shake of his head, Alex headed back into the empty auditorium to get his bass and amp, mentally rehearsing the upcoming discussion he needed to have with the others.

*****

The next day didn't go quite as planned.

For Alex, who'd figured he'd have to keep a watchful eye on Michael, the day was a pleasant surprise. Michael wasn't exactly communicative, but he wasn't bursting with wrath either. He seemed to have gotten over the anger of the previous night. Either that, or he was controlling it by drawing inwards. Anyway, Alex didn't think he had to worry about Michael suddenly going on a rampage and taking out Mark Blumenthal.

For Michael, who had gone to school with a renewed determination to avoid Maria, the day was, in a weird way, kind of a letdown. He could hardly avoid her when she was avoiding him first. When she didn't look at him, he could stare freely at her. When she didn't speak, he could still hear her voice in his memory, saying his name. Somehow the fact that she was making it easy on him to ignore her made it even harder instead.

And for Maria, who was herself pretty pissed off, the day was an ordeal of waiting. Waiting until after rehearsal, when she could face off with the simpering moron known as Pamela Harris and put her straight for the last time.

Alex had called and told her what had happened, and they'd all gathered at lunch so they could discuss the situation more fully. Well, all but Michael, of course. God forbid that he should actually be a part of their discussion. She shook her head. No, she was being too hard on him. From what Alex had said, he was going through yet another trauma--anger issues this time--and while she would be there to support him if she could, he wouldn't let her.

So she'd done the only other thing she could think of. She'd left him alone. It seemed to be what he wanted, so she'd done it. Part of her was almost grateful to Pamela for starting the whole note thing in the first place; at least it gave Maria something to think about other than Michael Guerin. She actually kind of looked forward to the confrontation that was coming.

Of course, that didn't work out quite as she'd expected, either.

The main obstacle was a dark-haired woman who showed up shortly before rehearsal was over and took a seat in the house, waiting for them to finish. Noticing Pamela give a little wave to the woman, Maria sidled up to Melanie as the cast gathered for notes. "Who's that?" she whispered.

"Pamela's mother," Melanie explained. "She came to pick her up. They're driving to T or C for her grandmother's seventieth birthday this weekend."

"They're leaving from here?" Maria asked. Melanie nodded, and Maria let out a sigh. So much for the big confrontation. And it wasn't going to happen over the weekend either; it was going to have to wait until Monday. Glancing over at Alex she shook her head, trying to clue him in on the change in plans. She'd gotten all geared up for it, and now, nothing. Darn it, why was Liz the one with all the patience? Why couldn't it be a DeLuca family trait instead? This was going to drive her nuts, if everything else in her life didn't do it first.

The moment Ms. Bedinger was done giving notes, Maria headed directly for the orchestra pit. "It's not going to happen today," she told Alex in a whisper. "That woman over there? It's Pamela's mother. She came to pick her up, and they're going to be gone all weekend. We're going to have to wait until Monday."

Alex nodded in understanding. "You okay?"

"I'll have to be, won't I?" was Maria's rejoinder. She sighed. "Oh well, let me get out of this costume and I'll come help you lug your stuff," she offered.

Once in the room that was serving as the girl's dressing room, it didn't take her long to slip out of the negligee and nightgown and into the jeans and sweater she'd worn to school that day. She was thankful that at this point all they were working with was costumes, and not makeup and hair, or she'd be there forever trying to get all the goop off her face. She didn't say anything to the other three girls who were also changing. She was tempted for a while to give in to her impulses and confront Pamela right then and there in the dressing room, but she knew better than to start something she wouldn't have time to finish. This was between the two of them; she didn't need Mrs. Harris becoming involved. After all, she hadn't told her own mother about the notes, so why would she tell Pamela's?

She would just have to wait for Monday, that's all, when she'd have a chance to face Pamela on her own. Actually, she was a little surprised that Michael didn't want in on the confrontation. He'd certainly been acting belligerent enough, according to Alex. But then again, also according to Alex, he was having trouble controlling his anger. So it was actually pretty smart to leave it to her. She was proud that he believed she could handle it. She knew she could, but it was nice to have Michael's support too, even if it was indirect and unspoken.

Picking up her bag, she slung it over her shoulder so she could carry Alex's bass case, leaving him free to tote the amp. He was taking them both home rather than leaving them in the band room over the weekend. She waited for him to finish packing up, and tried to ignore Pamela's re-entrance into the house. The girl had taken longer to get ready, evidently choosing to primp for her trip. Maria gritted her teeth. All she had to do was to refrain from temptation. She needed to wait until Monday. She could do that, couldn't she?

"You ready, honey?" she overheard Mrs. Harris ask her daughter. Maria made no special effort to avoid hearing the conversation. After all, she wasn't eavesdropping when they were speaking out loud in public with people around them, right? Not that she cared what Pamela Harris had to say, anyway. Still, she watched out of the corner of her eye and half listened to the girl as she answered her mother. Maria's ears pricked up, though, when Pamela asked her mother how she'd liked the show.

"I didn't see much," Mrs. Harris answered. "It seems to be going well. I'm a little confused, though, about the plant puppets. They weren't what I expected. I thought the school was renting them from the theatrical supply company that your cousin Barry works for. Wasn't he able to cut them a good enough deal?"

Maria took careful note of Pamela's reaction; the senior glanced around her nervously before responding. "I guess not. Let's go, okay?"

After the two Harrises left, Maria turned to Alex. "Did you hear that?" she demanded.

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Well, didn't it seem a little odd to you that Pamela's related to the guy who was going to supply the plants? Do you think the deal really fell through, or do you think she tried to sabotage the show?"

"Melanie told us that Pamela wasn't really big on action, just talk," Alex reminded her.

"I know, but don't you think it's odd?" Maria repeated. "Looks like I have another question for dear old Pamela. Is it Monday yet?"

*****

"This is ridiculous," Maria grumbled as she joined Liz at the counter of the Crashdown. "I mean, every time we seem to make some progress, something gets in the way." Liz looked at her sympathetically as Maria continued, "T or C, Melanie said. Pamela's spending the weekend in Truth or Consequences, New Mexico, of all places! I tell you, Liz, when she gets back she'd better tell me the truth, or I'll give her some consequences to deal with!"

Liz couldn't help it. She burst out laughing. Maria looked at her sheepishly. "I know. I'm just blowing off some steam, that's all."

"Yeah, that's the impression I got," Liz teased. She looked up as the front door opened and Max, Isabel and Alex entered. "So look who's come to pay a call."

"Did you set this up, Liz?" Maria asked.

"I did. Since you can't come to us, I thought we'd come to you. Of course, my parents are fully aware of your grounding, so if anyone asks, they just came in for a late supper."

"You are devious, chica!" Maria said with a grin. "I never knew you had it in you."

"Well, being friends with Czechoslovakians will do that to you. They're sitting in your section. Don't you think you should go take their order?" Liz asked, gently pushing the blonde towards the booth where the three sat.

"Hey, guys," Maria greeted them with a smile. "Got nothing better to do with your Friday night than hang out at the old Crashdown, huh?"

"I thought we should talk about an idea Max and I had," said Isabel, getting straight to the point. "Liz suggested the place, since you're not really mobile."

"What's going on?" said Maria, handing them menus.

Max pretended to peruse the menu as he spoke. "I'm assuming you've heard about Pamela Harris's alibi for the day you broke your ankle, right?" Maria nodded. "Since we ruled her out, we thought that maybe one of us could connect with you and get a vision of what really happened. See if someone really did push you, or if..."

"If I was just being clumsy," Maria finished for him. "It could have been that. I don't know. It all happened so fast," she admitted. "So, which one of you is going to play psychic?"

"I will," said Isabel. "I've already connected with you several times, so maybe it will make it easier."

"And we've either got to do it here, or wait until school on Monday, since we can't see you at your place," Max put in.

"I know. Rub it in, why don't you?" said Maria, but her smile made it very clear she was teasing. "I've got a break in a little while. We can do it then."

"Do what?" asked Liz as she crossed over to the booth and slid in beside Alex.

"Isabel's going to try and read me to see if my broken ankle was an accident or not," Maria answered. "We're going to try it on my break."

Liz thought this over. "Where are you going to do it? The back room's too open, and you can't go upstairs. My parents are up there."

"Well, you know what they say," Alex joked. "Women always go to the bathroom in pairs."

Maria laughed, but said, "Okay. Bathroom it is. Now, since I'm not on my break yet, what can I get you?" She took their orders and headed back over to the counter to give them to José. After that, the Friday night crowd kept her pretty busy, but she finally was able to nod to Isabel and head to the bathroom. The alien followed her in, locking the door behind them.

"Are you ready?" Isabel asked.

"What exactly do I have to do?"

"Just try and concentrate on what happened the day you fell. I'll connect and see if I can get a flash of it. We don't usually control what we pick up, but it's worth a try."

Maria obediently closed her eyes, trying to recapture the feeling of falling down the stairs. She was only partially aware of Isabel holding her hand. She hoped that this would be easier than the last time one of the aliens connected with her, when Michael had opened up to her and shown her some of his life. For a moment, she thought about Michael, wondering what he was doing, but then ruthlessly pulled her mind back to the subject at hand. She had to think about her accident. Stairs, falling, that sort of thing.

She opened her eyes as Isabel spoke her name softly. "Did it work?" she asked the taller girl, who was looking at her with an odd expression in her eyes.

"It worked," Isabel answered, sounding pleased. "Let's go back out there and I'll tell everyone about it."

Maria followed Isabel to the table, anxious to hear what the alien had seen. Liz joined them.

"Well, it was an accident," Isabel said bluntly. "No one pushed you."

Maria shook her head. "I don't know whether to be relieved that no one pushed me, or depressed that I was that big of a klutz," she commented.

"Be happy," Liz said. "Your problem is reduced to nasty notes. We don't have to worry about your health any more."

"And no more all-night stakeouts for Michael," Alex added.

"He hasn't been doing them anyway," said Maria. "He's too busy avoiding me, remember?"

Max smiled at her. "I think it's more that he's avoiding your mother, Maria. But at least he's getting more sleep now. I think he looks much more rested, don't you, Iz?" She didn't answer, staring at the table in front of her, lost in thought. Her brother repeated her name, and she looked up. "Where were you?" he teased.

She frowned, and then looked over at Maria. "I didn't just see the accident when we connected. I saw something else."

"What?" Maria asked with some trepidation.

"I saw you and Michael in the desert. And I saw...Pierce. His body, anyway."

Maria nodded, enlightened. "You saw part of the dream Michael and I had last week. Didn't he tell you about it?"

"We never asked him," Max admitted.

"It was pretty freaky," Maria told them. "Pierce's body was buried in the sand, and Michael healed him and he turned into this bright light. I'm thinking that part of the dream came from Michael, not me."

"Maybe his subconscious is trying to deal with Pierce's death," Alex suggested. "That's been weighing pretty heavily on his mind, hasn't it?"

Maria nodded. "I just hope he can come to terms with what happened. Because it's tearing him up inside."

*****

Max Evans was sound asleep early Sunday morning when the pounding started. He pulled the covers over his head, trying to ignore it, but it didn't go away. Finally with a sigh, he climbed out of bed and headed for the window. Unlatching it and shoving it open, he turned away and headed back for bed without bothering to look outside. He didn't have to; who else would be banging on his window at this hour? "What is it, Michael?" he mumbled. "It's six in the morning."

"I know," his friend said unrepentantly. "I need to talk to you."

This in itself was enough to bring Max fully awake and to a sitting position. "What's up?"

Michael didn't meet his eyes. "I'm going away."

"What?" Max burst out. "You can't, Michael. Running won't fix things. We need you here and--"

Michael cut him off. "Cool your jets, Maxwell. I'm not leaving for good. I just need to get away for a little while. I..." He swallowed, then continued slowly as if searching for words, "I feel like I'm losing control of things. I need to get myself back together. Figure out some stuff."

"Why can't you do that here? Let us help you. We all want to."

"That's just the problem! I need to sort some things out and I can't do it while I'm worrying about hurting someone."

"You mean Maria?" Max asked gently.

"No," Michael denied, then shook his head. "Well, yes, but not just her. Are you forgetting I almost blew you up a couple of weeks ago? And I could barely control my temper around Alex the other night." His voice dropped. "And the other day...I nearly...I almost killed this guy I hardly even know."

"You used your powers on him?" Max asked in disbelief.

"No. Just my hands. But I almost killed him anyway." Michael ran a hand over his eyes and then stared at it a moment before letting his arm drop. He finally met Max's glance, his face bleak. "I need to get away for a while. Get things under control somewhere where I can't hurt anyone. I don't have so many friends that I can afford to lose any of them."

"What about Maria?"

Tensing, Michael looked away. "What about her?"

"You're giving up on protecting her?" Max asked with raised eyebrows.

Michael looked at him in surprise. "I figured Alex would've told you about that."

"He did. But tell me anyway. I want to hear what you think."

"We're pretty sure Pamela Harris wrote the notes, the chick from Maria's play. It's nothing Czechoslovakian, just a stupid human thing. It was petty, but it's not dangerous."

"What about the feeling you got from the sketch, that Maria was in danger?"

"I guess I was wrong, then. Just another patented Michael Guerin screw-up," Michael retorted. "Look Maxwell, I'm sure Maria and Alex have things under control. She can handle it. And even if she couldn't, I'm not of any use here until I can control myself." His eyes begged for understanding from his friend.

"Where will you go?" a voice said from behind them. Michael turned, startled, to see a pajama-clad Isabel standing tensely in the doorway. "Once again your pounding woke me up," she explained. "You need to start using your powers on the locks again, Michael. So where are you going?" she asked again, her voice taut.

"Not far," he assured her. "I thought I'd hole up in the pod cave for a little while."

She relaxed somewhat, knowing that he wasn't going to be out of reach. "How long?"

"I don't know. Coupla days? A week maybe? However long it takes, I guess."

"You'll need supplies," she commented, her mind working busily.

"That's why I'm here." He turned to Max. "I wanted to know if I could borrow your sleeping bag."

"Of course you can," Max assured him with a slight smile. "You've used it more than I ever have anyway."

Michael shrugged, not particularly wanting to think about all the nights he'd spent using Max's room as an escape from Hank's place.

"You'll need food and water," Isabel pointed out.

"I've got that all covered."

Max studied him. "When are you going?" he asked.

"I gotta work today. That's why I'm here so early. Thought I'd head out there this afternoon, after I get off."

"We'll drive you."

"You don't need to."

"We'll drive you," Max repeated firmly.

Michael nodded again, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. "Gotta go," he finally said, and headed back toward the window. Isabel followed him, slowly closing the window behind him, before turning and sitting beside her brother.

"I wish we could do something," she said softly. "It isn't fair. He's gotten the short end of the stick with the whole human side of things all his life, and now the alien side keeps causing problems...Why can't things just work out for him once in a while, Max? Why can't he be happy? I hate this. I hate to see him hurting."

Max put an arm around his sister. "I know, Izzy. I know."


TBC...