Finding the Way Home

by Vardy

Have you ever wondered how life in Roswell would change if it was Max and Michael who stayed together that fateful night? Everyone's lives could change... AU, CC, mainly focuses on A/I

2. 2

FINDING THE WAY HOME – 2

Part Fourteen - Alex

Michael was pacing.  Again.

"So what you're telling us is that Valenti and his wife have been here a couple of days, but the kiddies only arrived yesterday?" he asked, pivoting to face a startled Liz.

"Yeah.  They're starting school with the rest of us this morning," she repeated for the fifth time in under an hour.

I'll never understand why the I-know-an-alien club has to meet at such ungodly hours.  Sometimes, I actually wish I never knew the secret if it meant the chance to sleep in instead of watching Michael pace back and forth across Max's room.

But then I think about Isabel, and how I might never have had the chance to meet the girl of my dreams, and a few hours less sleep doesn't seem like such a big deal.

"And no one's seen them yet?" he continued, doing the best damn impersonation of a police interrogator that I've ever seen.  It was even funnier because he wasn't even aware of it.  He was just being Michael.

Then I made a fatal error: I snickered.

Michael glared at me.  I swear, if Tess hadn't assured me that they couldn't slay us with death-ray eyes, after my first encounter with Michael Evans, I would've been preparing to meet my maker.  Michael gives a whole new meaning to the saying 'if looks could kill.'

"You think this is funny, Whitman?  We're only talking about the damn FBI invading Roswell.  Go ahead and laugh!  And having the fourth alien in their clutches – what are we thinking?  We should be throwing a freaking party!"

"Michael, calm down!" Tess told him, snickering herself at the disgusted look he threw at her.

"So what's the game plan, Maxwell?" Michael asked, ignoring my sister and shooting me a final dirty look.

"Well, Liz knows Maria Valenti, and Alex and Tess have met her, so no one will be suspicious if they hang out together.  You and I will tag along, and hopefully we'll be able to figure out if the other Valenti girl really is the fourth alien, and I'm still not entirely convinced that she is.  And if we're really lucky, we can also figure out how much Valenti knows."

"Luck?  You're depending on luck?"

Personally, I thought we'd be lucky if we all made it out of there with our limbs intact, the way Michael was snapping at people.

"Michael…" he began.

"Wait.  Let me get this straight, Maxwell.  You're telling me that you've changed your mind and now you don't think Isabel Valenti is one of us?"

"Max, you saw the picture Alex found of Isabel Valenti.  Even you admitted that it could've been the girl you remember from the desert.  Why don't you believe it's her?"  Liz asked

Max sighed, running his fingers through his hair distractedly.  "We haven't even met her yet, so we really can't know either way.  It just seems too convenient, that the fourth alien would suddenly turn up in Roswell.  And, coincidentally, her adoptive father's a former FBI agent."  He paused, staring at his brother intently.  "I'm not saying it's not her, Michael.  I hope it is her.  I want to find her just as much as you do.  I just think we've got to be careful."

From what I've been told by Tess and Liz, and from what I've seen in the last few weeks, both Max and Michael feel extremely guilty for just abandoning Isabel in the desert the night they hatched from their pods, and that's why they've been so determined to find her, to make sure she's okay.  Max – the ever-cautious, ever-thoughtful Max – can't decide if he wants this girl to be the one they left behind or not.  Liz told me that he's not sure he can look the other alien in the eye, after the way they ran off without her, so he's going back and forth on the is-she-or-isn't-she issue.  Michael, however, is a different story.  But then, he usually is.  He always goes with his intuition, and right now, it's telling him that Isabel Valenti is the fourth alien – and he couldn't be happier.  He's always wanted answers, from what I can tell, and he's always wondered about this girl.  Tess told me that he's hoping she'll be the missing link to their past.

And me?  I already know Isabel is the girl I've been dreaming about for more than half of my life.  The picture was merely a formality – I could've described her features in detail from the dreams.  I would know her anywhere.  It's like my soul recognizes her.  I have no idea what it means, but I know we're connected.  And I can't wait until I get to see her in person.

Is she the missing alien?  Who knows?  I think so, but if she isn't, I won't be terribly disappointed.  I don't want to be near an alien – I can do that at supper every night.  I want to be around her, Isabel Valenti.  I want to see the girl I know she doesn't show to most people. 

I'm hoping she'll show me the real Isabel Valenti – the one she hides from the world, but shows to me as we sleep.

"Um, I hate to break up this little love-fest, but if we don't get going, we'll be late for school…and that's probably not the best way to start the year, although you would get a chance to meet Mrs. Valenti if you got sent to the office…" Tess mused.  Her face lit up.  "We could skip…we'd definitely get sent to the office tomorrow, and we could go swimming," she added enthusiastically.

I nudged her, frowning, and shook my head.  "I thought you wanted to go to Marcie's party next Saturday, little sister, not sit a home all night.  You know Mom and Dad will flip if they find out you blew off the first day of classes."

She shrugged and hopped up.  "Okay, spoilsport, we'll do it your way."  Then she grinned at me.  "Maybe you can invite the Valenti girl to the party."

I smirked back at her.  "Maybe you can invite the Valenti boy to the party."

She stuck her tongue out at me and grabbed the car keys off of Max's desk.  "I'm driving," she called over her shoulder, charging out of the room and down the stairs.

I shrugged and followed her.

"It's going to be an interesting year," Liz murmured, following me.

I couldn't agree more.

*

Part Fifteen – Isabel

"Mia!  If you don't hurry up, we'll be late!" I called impatiently.  I'd been up for hours already, organizing my room – my way of dealing with situations that made me nervous.  The first day at a new school – particularly when you're an alien starting a new school in Roswell, New Mexico – definitely qualifies as a situation that makes me nervous.

Dad grinned at me as he gulped down the last of his coffee.  He's on his third cup, already – I think he's a little nervous about his first day at the sheriff's office, too – and he's looking a little wired.  "Izzy, Princess, if she isn't ready soon, just leave without her.  She can drive her own car this morning."

I slumped into the seat next to him.  "We're not really that late.  I'm just nervous about starting a new school, I guess."

He laughed at that and ruffled my hair, the way he used to when I was a little girl.  "Isabel Valenti, nervous?  Is the world coming to an end?"

"I just want to fit in, Dad," I told him seriously.  "Is there anything wrong with that?"

"No, Izzy, there isn't."  His own voice was serious now.  "I know it's going to be hard, and I know Mom and I were asking a lot of you kids when we decided to move back here.  We wouldn't have done it if we didn't think it was the best thing for all of us.  But you know everyone's going to love you.  And you'll be with your sister and brother, and Maria's going to introduce you to some of her old friends.  I know you'll do fine."

I smiled at him and began to sort through the mail Mom had left on the table earlier.  "This one's for you, Dad, from Mr. Walker.  Wasn't he one of the men I met at the office Christmas party last year?  What does he do at the agency, anyway?"

He glanced at it and tossed it aside casually.  "He's in a different department than I was, Princess.  I'm not really sure what he does.  I just know him from the academy."

I nodded and continued flipping through the mail.  A letter from Kyle's girlfriend Tracy, a postcard from Aunt Kim, a few bills…nothing really interesting.

"So, Chica, what do you think?  Do I look spectacular or what?  Am I going to have to hand out drool buckets to the Roswell boys?"

I couldn't help but giggle.  Mia always likes to make an entrance.  "You look great," I told her, fighting to keep a straight face.

"You're actually going out in…that?" Dad asked from behind me.  I glanced at him and laughed again.  His eyes were bugged out and his mouth was about two inches from the floor.

"Dad.  It's called a tank top," Mia told him.  "Don't get all parental on me now.  Besides, I don't have time to change," she called over her shoulder, grabbing my arm and pulling me outside behind her.

"Maria Rose.  You, your mother and I will be having one of our little chats tonight," he warned.

Mia spun on her heel as I climbed into the driver's seat of the jeep.  "Dad.  I'm wearing a tank top and a skirt.  It's perfectly decent and perfectly acceptable to dress like this for school.  In case you haven't noticed, it's incredibly hot out today."

Dad's eyes narrowed.  He and Mia are too much alike, which is why they get into major battles constantly.  Mom and Kyle are the same way – she always wants him to stay her little boy.  When he started dating Tracy seriously, I thought Mom would never recover.  It's strange…in our family the adoptive parent is more like the stepchild than the biological parent.  Maybe that's why no one in Albuquerque could ever figure out who was related to whom genetically.

And me?  I'm the steady one, a mixture of my headstrong sister and father and independent brother and mother.  I don't make waves with Dad like Mia or make Mom afraid that I'm growing up too fast.  Sometimes, I think I'm the only sane Valenti.

"Maria.  That," he gestured vaguely towards her clothing, looking a little embarrassed, "is not decent.  I can see more skin than you've got covered up."

Well, it wasn't an exaggeration; I had to give Dad points for that.  Every time she moved, the top rode up and displayed her newly pierced bellybutton – the thing that caused the last family chat – and the skirt was super short. 

I could see that Dad was getting ready to make a speech, and that Mia was getting ready to throw a tantrum, so I decided to intervene before we really were late.  "Dad.  I'm sorry, but if we don't leave now, we'll be late.  She looks fine."

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Dad nodded.  Mia hopped in next to me and I pulled out of the driveway, waving goodbye as we drove down the street.

"Thanks," Mia told me as she flipped on the radio.

I raised an eyebrow.  "Have you forgotten that the first person we have to see at school is Mom?"

Maria turned a little pale, and then waved a hand dismissively.  "I've got a sweater."

"Why are you dressed like that?" I asked softly, knowing that it's not her usual style.  Normally, I probably would've chalked it up to the usual first-day-of-school jitters, but she'd been acting oddly ever since Jeremy called her last night, and I'm pretty sure they fought.  Otherwise, she would've bounced into my room and told me all about their conversation – in detail.  Over and over again.

She seemed to deflate all of a sudden as I pulled into the parking lot of West Roswell High.  I switched off the ignition and turned to face her.  A tear trickled down her cheek, leaving a trail of mascara in its wake.

"I…just wanted to make an impression.  I wanted to prove to myself – and Jeremy – that I could find another guy whenever I wanted.  Do you know what he told me last night?" she asked angrily.  "He said that I would just be wasting my time looking for anyone in Roswell, because he was the best thing that ever happened to me, that no one else but him would ever love me…and if I was really lucky, he'd take me back if I grovelled enough.  He's punishing me because Mom and Dad decided to move."

I wanted to strangle that little idiot, but since he wasn't around, I settled for hugging my sister.  "He's wrong," I told her firmly.  Now I knew why I had never really liked him.  How dare he say something like that to Mia – he, more than anyone else, should know how much she fears the men in her life leaving her.  If I ever get my hands on him, I'll give him a rash that'll make him itch for a month…maybe a year.  And maybe I'll take a little jaunt into his dreams tonight and make him see things that'll give him nightmares for a month.  "He's a moronic imbecile, but you already know that.  I love you, Mom and Dad and Kyle love you.  Don't give him another thought.  I know you'll find Mr. Right here in Roswell."

"You really think so?"

"Yeah," I answered, and I really believe it.  There's a little voice whispering to me that this is where we're supposed to be. 

She smiled at me, and the spunky, headstrong sister I know and love was back in full force.  "Can you take care of this?" she asked, sniffling a little as she waved her hand towards her ruined makeup.  "Use your Czechoslovakian powers for the force of good?"

I grinned back at her, happy she was feeling better.  She only referred to my powers as Czechoslovakian – her code name for my other-worldliness – when she wanted to tease me.  I glanced around to make sure no one was watching and quickly repaired the damage.  "All better.  Now, we've got to meet Kyle at Mom's office.  Ready to face West Roswell?"

"She's gonna kill me for wearing this top, isn't she?"

I nodded, and looked around again.  Luckily, I had parked near the back of the lot, so there weren't many people around.  And of course, the fact that the first bell had rung about five minutes ago, contributed to the significant lack of people milling about.  I waved my hand of the shirt, making the sleeves grow, transforming the tank top into a t-shirt.  "There.  That will satisfy Mom."

Mia flashed me another smile and grabbed her backpack.  "Something tells me that this is gonna be an interesting year."

I couldn't agree more.

*

Part Sixteen – Alex

From the moment we pulled into the parking lot at West Roswell High, I could feel her.  The familiar buzz in the back of my head, the feelings I've come to identify with Isabel, intensified drastically, and I knew she was near.

Tess didn't give me a chance to look for her, though.  Instead, she dragged me back inside West Roswell's hallowed halls.  We made it just in time to squeeze into our homeroom as the first bell rang.

Liz gave me a questioning look as I slid into a desk across from hers.  "What took you so long?" she whispered as the teacher began to call roll.  "You two left the Evans' before me and Max and Michael, but we arrived at school a good twenty minutes ago."

I shrugged.  "Tess drove," I said, and she nodded understandingly.  Tess was always fighting for the keys, but she was a notoriously bad driver.

 "Hey!" Tess hissed, turning around from her seat in front of me and smacking my arm teasingly.  "I'm a great driver."

"Sure, Tess.  Whatever you say."

"I am!"

"Then tell me again how you managed to wreck the car while parallel parking?"

She stuck her tongue out at me.  "I said I was a great driver, not a great parker," she said before spinning around to face the front of the room.

"Whatever you say, Tess.  Whatever you say."

By this time, Liz was practically convulsing with suppressed laughter.  "Liz, I wouldn't laugh if I were you," Tess whispered.  "I could always tell Max that story about how you managed to beat up your dad's car after that encounter with a shopping cart."

"You wouldn't." Liz had on her poker face, but her voice wobbled.  I must remember to talk to her about that before we play poker with Tess and the Evans again…it's time the humans won for once.

"Try me," Tess told her, giggling.

That's when I tuned out their conversation.  I knew exactly how it would go – the same way as every conversation they've ever had has gone.  Sometimes, when I was younger, I wished for something, anything, that would shake up the pattern we somehow got caught up in.  We were up-and-coming teens after all – we had our whole lives ahead of us.  Why should we be subjected to monotony already?

Then came the whole aliens-really-do-exist thing, complete with the FBI wanting to dissect them and evil aliens wanting to pulverize them.  That pretty much destroyed all shreds of normalcy, let alone monotony. 

And now there's Isabel, the girl of my dreams, the girl I'm hoping to meet today.

I carefully studied the faces surrounding us, hoping against hope that I would see the beautiful blonde girl who haunted my dreams and my waking hours.  I didn't really expect her to be there, in my homeroom – that would be too easy - but I couldn't suppress the little surge of disappointment that shot through me when I didn't see her.

I've never felt her so clearly before.  Not even when we shared nightmares of faceless men in white coats that wanted to hurt her.  It was like she was inside me, like we were one person, not two.  I keep expecting to turn around and see her standing next to me.

Mr. Smith passed me my class schedule, and I only had time to identify what it was before my sister snatched it out of my hands.  She leaned across the aisle and started comparing classes with Liz.  Mentally, I shrugged.  More of that monotony…they've done that for as long as I can remember, too.  It used to bug me.  But now, the monotony didn't seem oppressive, the way it did before Max Evans saved Liz Parker's life.  It seemed familiar, comforting.

"We've all got history first," Tess informed me as the bell rang.

I grabbed my bag and trailed along behind them, still scanning the crowd.  I knew she was there somewhere.  It was only a matter of time before I found her. 

For just a second, I caught sight of a tall girl with long, golden hair.  I was positive it was her – Isabel.  I would know her face anywhere.  I could feel her anywhere. 

And then I blinked, and she was gone.

"Come on, Alex," Tess called to me.  I heard her, but she sounded far away.  I had frozen in place in the middle of the hall, and people were swarming around me, pushing and shoving me in their hurry to get to class, but I didn't notice.  I didn't care.  Nothing mattered except Isabel.

I think I'm in love with a girl I've never even met.

*

Part Seventeen – Isabel

I strode down the hall with Mia trailing behind me slightly.  I'm taller than my sister, and she often has to run to catch up to me, but I couldn't wait for her, and she knew it.  I had to give off an air of confidence, of self-assurance, or the wolves of the school would eat me alive. 

But it was really all an act.  I'm a good actress – people at my old school really believed that I was the Ice Princess I pretended to be.  Of course, I wasn't supposed to know about that nickname, but how could I not?  It was a small school, after all.  I always pretended I didn't hear them whisper about me behind my back.  I always pretended that I wasn't aware that people either hated me or were jealous of me or adored me.  It hurt – it hurt like hell, actually – but it was better to put on the act than to let anyone besides my family get close to me.

I ignored the stares of the people in the halls as they gawked at Mia and me.  It was part of my school persona, the personality I clung to like a child clutching their security blanket.  From the very beginning, I knew that letting people see the real me was dangerous – for me, and for them.  It hurt Kyle and Mia, I knew, that I wasn't always entirely open with them.  And it hurt them even more than I wanted to know every time someone told them what a bitch I was, but didn't seem to really care.  Kyle came home with more black eyes than I can count, defending me to the vicious and cruel people at our school.

I cared, and they knew it.  I probably cared too much.  The people at my old school would keel over laughing if they knew how many tears the Ice Princess had shed over their viciousness.  But I couldn't show people that I cared, because that would make me weak.  I was weak as a child, dependent on the mercy of strangers after my real family abandoned me. Those strangers loved me, though, and became my family, and most of the time I can convince myself that it doesn't matter that the boys didn't want me. 

But I can't hide from Mia and Kyle.  They hurt for me, even if I wasn't able to show them I was hurting for myself.

I'm beautiful, and I know it.  But sometimes, I wish I could look like someone else – anyone else – just for a few hours.  For once, I would love to be a normal girl.  Not an alien, not a beauty queen, not anything except me.  Isabel Valenti.

Mia and Kyle are hoping it will be better for me here.  I had tons of friends at home, of course – I was one of the beautiful people, after all – but they were more like casual acquaintances than real friends.  All the right people - people I was supposed to go shopping with or party with or date.  Empty, shallow people that only cared that I looked a certain way and drove the right car and wore the right clothes.  I would die before I went to those girls with a serious problem.  And the boys came and went, all wanting something from me that I wasn't ready or willing to give, which made them resent and hate me.  The Ice Princess in action, they said when they didn't think I would hear.  Sure, I had my brother and sister, and they were always willing to listen to my problems, but they had their own lives and I wanted to keep them as normal as possible. 

Truthfully?  I was damned lonely.

It won't be better here.  I know.  I can already tell from the stares and the looks people are giving me.  I'm just a new commodity for them – the ultimate It girl, always hated and admired and despised and worshipped, but never really liked, not for who I really am.  Most people didn't even bother to look.

For once, I wish someone would try to see the real me, the one only my family knows, and not just assume I'm a spoiled, beautiful girl. 

I stopped in front of my mother's office, and felt my lips curve into a slight smile when I saw the words "Amy Valenti: Vice-Principal" shining on the little gold plaque.  Mom was so proud of that…when she and Dad had gotten back from their first trip to Roswell, she'd spent hours describing her office, and especially that plaque, to Mia and me.

"Ready?" Mia whispered, standing slightly behind me.  The halls had cleared behind us when the second bell rang, but I had this feeling that there was someone watching us.  I glanced around quickly, but I didn't see anyone.  Mentally, I shrugged, and tried to ignore the tickling of recognition, of familiarity, that I felt at the base of my skull.

I nodded, flashing her an encouraging smile as I rapped on the door.  We both knew Mom was going to be upset that we were late, particularly if Dad had called ahead, and I suspected he probably had.

"Come in," I heard Mom call from behind the thick door, and Maria pushed it open slightly.  Mom was standing behind her desk, looking nothing like our mother today.  She was wearing her favourite power suit, a confidence-booster for her first day at a new job, instead of the usual jeans and t-shirt that she wears at home.  Her brown hair was twisted up in a French Roll, instead of hanging loosely around her shoulders, the way it normally does.  It was disconcerting to look at my mother and not really recognize her as my mother.

"Hi," I said, striding into the room.  Kyle was slumped in a seat across from Mom's desk, and I chose the chair next to him. 

"You're late," she told us, and I was strangely relieved that her voice sounded the same.

"I know, and I'm sorry.  It was all my fault – I had to change, and I made Izzy late," Mia replied.

Mom smiled at us, and I felt a little of the tension in my shoulders lessen.  It's strange, but Mom in this capacity reminds me of all the authority figures I've always feared.  It was nice to realize that she was still my Mom.

"It's okay.  Kyle just got here, too – football practice ran late."  She perched on he corner of her desk and handed us each a piece of paper.  "Here are your class schedules.  You all have your first class together, and the same lunch period, but you can compare the rest of your classes later.  I'll take you to your first class now."

Mom practically leapt off the desk, and it's in moments like that one that I realize just how much alike she and Mia really are, despite all their differences.  They're both so bouncy and full of energy the air around them practically sizzles.  I hate to even admit it to myself, and I would never say it aloud and hurt them like that, but I'm a little jealous of their connection.  I'm Amy Valenti's daughter in every way except birth, I know, and I love her so much for choosing me, a kid who couldn't talk and didn't know simple things like how to brush my teeth, and for loving me when she didn't have to, but we aren't related.  Not really.  Not genetically, no matter what strangers think when they look at us.  I'll never look at Amy and recognize one of her features as my own.  My birth mother is probably long dead, and I'll never know that connection of blood that Mia and Mom share.  I'll probably never know where I belong.

Then Kyle wrapped his arm around my shoulders and gave me a one-armed hug, probably sensing what I was feeling.  I managed to give him a small smile back, but I couldn't stop my lower lip from trembling a little.

Kyle and Dad also have that connection, and I don't know how anyone who looks at their bright blue eyes couldn't tell they were related, but I've never been jealous of them.  Probably because whenever I think of where I come from, I wonder about my mother, not my father.  Girls and their mothers…it's a very important connection.  So much of who you are comes from your mother.  I've got some of Amy's mannerisms, I know, but sometimes, late at night when I stare up at the sky, I can't help but wonder about my real mother.  My alien mother – a woman who would understand how confused and alone I feel even when I'm surrounded by people, who would understand how different I felt from everyone else because she felt the same way. 

A woman I both love and hate at the same time.

Maybe the boys, the ones who left me alone in the desert, would understand.  But they left me, and I doubt I'll ever see them again, either.

I shook my head a little.  This was not the time to think about those boys or my birth mother.  Right now, I had to concentrate on hiding who I really am.

Kyle grabbed my hand and gave it a quick, reassuring squeeze as Mom knocked on the door to a classroom and held a hushed conversation with the teacher that opened the door.  Then she turned and flashed us a smile before she walked down the hall, away from us.

I sucked in a deep breath as I heard the clicking of her heels echoing down the hall.  It's silly, I know, but in that moment, I felt as abandoned and alone as I had that night in the desert.

Then I steeled my spine and pulled my Ice Princess persona back in place.  I dropped my brother's hand and walked boldly into the classroom behind the teacher. 

I scanned the faces of the students in the room automatically, not really looking for anyone in particular, but instead familiarizing myself with the people around me, making sure no one looked too dangerous.

And then I saw him, and my heart skipped a beat.

*

Part Eighteen – Alex

I looked up when I heard the knock at the door.  No one else really noticed – Max and Liz were too busy staring into each other's eyes, and Tess was trying to tease Michael out of his bad mood.

The teacher went out into the hall and held a hushed conversation with a woman.  I strained to hear their conversation, but the noise level of the classroom raised to a din automatically when the teacher left the room.

And then I saw her.  Isabel.  She walked into the room, and all eyes were drawn to her.  Tess stopped talking mid-sentence, and even Max and Liz tore their eyes off of each other to look at her.  She was just the type of person who naturally commanded attention, and it wasn't just because she was beautiful.  I had a feeling people would stop and stare at her if she looked like Joe Schmoe.

I watched her glance around the room coolly, a distant expression on her face.  I knew she wasn't as calm and indifferent as she appeared, though.  I could feel the fear, the nervousness, rolling through her body in waves.  I wanted to wrap my arms around her and hold her close, tell her everything was going to be okay, but I knew, without a doubt, that that would be crazy, the absolute worst thing I could do under the circumstances.  It would've freaked her out even more, which was something I definitely didn't want to do if I ever had a hope in hell of being near her.  She didn't know me from Adam, even if I've loved her for most of my life.

And then our eyes met, and in that instant, I knew what Liz and Max meant when they said they could see into each other's souls.  I'd already felt her all my life, but suddenly, I knew her, as well, on almost every level possible.  I could feel our connection strengthen as the air around me tingled with electricity and we weren't even touching.  I could hear her thoughts, share her daydreams, experience her emotions.  For a single moment in time, we weren't Alex and Isabel, we were AlexandIsabel.  We were one entity, one being.

I knew she felt it too.

And just as suddenly, we were apart.  It was like a door slammed shut, tearing me away from her.  I could still see her, still feel her, but she was gone from my mind, and I could feel my heart calling out to her, missing her, my other half.

I could feel her confusion and fear increase, and as much as I wanted to jump up and pull her into my arms, protect her from everything she was feeling, I knew I couldn't.  That would just freak her out even more than I already had.  Instead, I just sent her reassuring thoughts, hoping that our connection would work in the opposite way, and that she would feel me, too.

She relaxed almost imperceptibly, and I felt her anxiety levels lessen slightly.  But her fear was still there, along with an iron will that forced her to remain calm, even though I knew she was scared enough to run all the way back to Albuquerque if she had to.

"Class, we have three new students today.  Kyle, Maria and Isabel Valenti.  Why don't you each tell the class something about yourselves?"

I could see her hands shaking a little, and my heart wrenched.  Then she shook her hair and flashed the class a brilliant smile.

"We just moved here from Albuquerque, but we're originally from Roswell," Kyle told us.  I could see that Isabel was relieved that she didn't have to go first, and I made a mental note to find some way to thank her brother for that.  "I'm on the football team," he added.

"I'm Maria," she said, grinning at us.  "I was head cheerleader at my old school, and I'm hoping to try out for the team here."

"Isabel."

Mr. Sommers looked startled when she didn't seem inclined to continue.  I guess he assumed she was shy – he certainly didn't feel the tremors of annoyance and fear that I felt radiating from her – and decided to try and draw her out of her shell.  The poor, deluded man didn't have a sweet clue who he was up against.  "Tell us, Isabel – why did your family move to Roswell?"

She raised an eyebrow and gave him a little half-smile.  "My parents wanted to move closer to my grandparents, and my father was offered a job as sheriff." Her eyes flashed, challenging him to try and pry more information from her.

"Umm…okay, then.  Take those empty seats over there, and I'll have a seating plan done up for next class."  He waved vaguely in my direction, and I couldn't stop myself from grinning.  Then I thanked whatever gods that happened to be smiling down on me, Alex Whitman, when the girl of my dreams glided down the aisle towards me and slid into the seat in front of me.

Oh, yeah.  This was gonna be one hell of a year.

*

Part Nineteen – Isabel

And then I saw him, and my heart skipped a beat.

I'd always seen a boy in my dreams, from the very first night I broke out of my pod.  Sometimes, when I was younger, I would try to talk to him, but whenever I did, he would disappear, and nights would go by until I'd see him again.  So I learned to pretend he wasn't there, even though I knew he was.  During my nightmares, he'd hover close by, and some part of me knew that he'd stop anything bad from happening to me.  Some part of me knew he'd protect me from the people who wanted to dissect me.  I use to think of him as a guardian angel.

He kept me from feeling alone.

When I was really little, I use to talk to him during the daytime.  I guess the image of the boy combined with my subconscious and he became an imaginary friend, someone I would talk to and play with in the daytime, especially in the year before I started school.  He was always there for me, in that year when Kyle and Mia were off to school and I was left at home with Mom.  He was my first real friend…maybe my only real friend.

As I grew up, I didn't need him so much anymore, and the boy I would imagine in the daylight hours disappeared.  But he never really left my dreams.  And even though I'm sure I could've, I never attempt to dreamwalk him to find out if he was real.  I never even considered it.  Probably because I didn't want to know the answer.  I needed him as much as ever, and I didn't want to risk losing him by questioning his existence.

Really, though, I guess I always just assumed he wasn't real, that he was just a representation of my subconscious. 

He's real. 

And I'm scared to death.

It was like the earth tipped on its axis.  I was just looking around the room when I spotted him.  His brilliant blue eyes captured mine and our gazes locked.  I couldn't have looked away to save my soul.

We stared at each other for what seemed like hours, but was really probably only a few seconds.  I could hear my heart pounding and I was dimly aware of the pain in the palms of my hands from where my fingernails bit into the skin, but for those few seconds, the only thing I could do was look at him.

That was when it happened.  We connected, connected the same way Kyle and I did when I healed him.  Images of him, growing up, sharing my dreams, flashed through my mind.  I could feel his heart beating in unison with my own.  In that split second, I left my own body.  I was him.

I'd never been so scared in my life.

And then my consciousness slammed back into my own body.

I must've looked silly, looking around the room in a daze, and from the look Mia shot me, I knew she'd noticed there was something wrong, but no one else seemed to notice anything was off. 

But something was off.  Things like this…they just weren't supposed to happen.  It didn't make any sense.  I've never been able to just connect with someone like that before, not without some form of physical contact, at least.  Sure, I've been able to sense emotions off of Kyle and Mia from time to time, but normally only intense feelings or in tense situations.  I'd always just assumed that was because I knew them so well, because of our connection.

I could feel my lower lip trembling, and I clenched my hands into fists to stop them from shaking.  What if he felt it too?  What if he knew I was a freak?  Oh, god…what if he told someone? 

What if they found out what I was?

I was almost ready to run from the room and search out a nice, quiet corner to hide in when I felt it.  My senses were still overwhelmed from all of his feelings invading my head, but I could feel it.  Like a soothing lotion poured over my battered emotions, I could feel his reassurances.  I could feel that he wouldn't do anything to hurt me, that I didn't have to worry, and I felt my body respond even as my mind told me I was kidding myself. 

The teacher, Mr. Sommers, was talking to us, and Kyle and Mia were shooting me these little worried looks.  I sucked in some breath and pulled my persona back into place.  I was the ice princess, and nothing could hurt me, I told myself, especially not some strange boy.  It was all just a coincidence, the product of an overactive imagination. 

I shook my hair and flashed a smile at everyone in the room.  I glanced around, reminding myself where all the exits were, in case something horrible happened. 

But I couldn't help but let my gaze linger on him for a second longer than necessary.  I told myself I just wanted to see what he looked like, but I couldn't even bring myself to believe that lie.  I would know him anywhere.  I always have and I always will.

He's not really what most people would consider my type – he's tall and skinny and kind of geeky-looking – but I don't want one of those so-called football studs everyone kept tossing at me at my old school.  No one, not even Kyle and Mia, could understand why I didn't find them attractive.  Personally?  I'd rather have someone who'd pay attention to me, to my thoughts, my feelings, instead of a guy who thinks the biggest thrill in life is crushing beer cans on his forehead.

Mia was introducing herself now, and I gave myself a mental shake.  Why the hell was I thinking about this guy – a complete stranger who just happened to get into my head – as a potential boyfriend?  Izzy, babe, you've finally lost it, echoed in my head. 

Even weirder?  The little voice in my head sounded like my sister.

Mia was staring at me expectantly.  Oh, yeah.  My turn to talk.  Whoopee.  "Isabel," I stated, not seeing any need to tell anyone anything else.

The teacher looked startled when I didn't seem inclined to continue.  Guess he's not use to anyone not falling all over his middle-aged charms.  "Tell us, Isabel – why did your family move to Roswell?"

I raised an eyebrow and gave him a little half-smile.  He tensed, and I swear I saw a bead of sweat form on his forehead.  If the leacherous old man wants to check me out, fine.  But he sure as hell better be prepared for me to turn my charms back on him.  "My parents wanted to move closer to my grandparents, and my father was offered a job as sheriff."

"Umm…okay, then.  Take those empty seats over there, and I'll have a seating plan done up for next class."  He waved vaguely, and my eyes followed his hand. 

I swallowed nervously.  He was pointing at the boy, who was grinning at me.  The room seemed to spin a little as I walked slowly down the aisle and slid into the seat in front of him, and this time I couldn't stop my hands from trembling. 

Oh, yeah.  This was gonna be one hell of a year.

*

Part Twenty – Alex

"Hi, I'm Alex," I told her, wondering if she already knew my name.

She turned slightly in her chair and offered me a tiny smile.  "Hi."

Then she swivelled to face the front, and I started to listen to Mr. Sommers drone on.

That's when I knew it was my lucky day.

"I realize many of you have already done the assignment in your sophomore year," he told us, wheezing slightly as he trotted around the room, distributing freshly-photocopied sheets.  But I fully believe that it's necessary to know your personal history before you can learn the history of others.  That said, I'm assigning you partners, and handing out a much more complex set of questions than the questions I give my sophomore class."

He plopped a few papers on my desk and I glanced at them.  Sure, he still seemed keen to know everyone's favourite flavour of ice-cream, but this time around, he also seemed interested in what really made the person tick.

"You'll all be getting to know one another very well in the next week, and I expect a 1,000-word biography on your partner.  This will help prepare you for some of the historical figures we'll be studying over the next few months."

I stifled the groan that threatened to erupt at that announcement.  What kind of sicko gives homework on the first day of school?

"Max Evans and Elizabeth Parker."

I grinned as Tess elbowed Liz and Max turned an interesting shade of pink…one I'm not entirely sure ever actually occurred before in nature.  Obviously, Mr. Sommers hadn't heard about their little trips to the Eraser Room last year – they were pretty damn close to legendary.  If Max and Liz knew any more about each other, they'd be mistaken for an old married couple.

"Michael Evans and Maria Valenti."

I glanced at Michael, and barely contained my laughter.  The semi-permanent scowl that normally covered his face was now replaced by a look that was a cross of horror and disbelief.  Oh, yeah.  I'd read the signs right.  He's got a thing for my dream girl's sister.  Score one for Whitman.

I sat back in my chair and exchanged a look of amusement with my sister.  With the surname 'Whitman,' Tess and I knew we wouldn't be called for quite some time, unless our partner's names were higher in the alphabet.

"Kyle Valenti and Tess Whitman."

The look of horror on Tessie's face was comical.  I'd been teasing her about having a crush on the Valenti boy for weeks now, and she'd denied it repeatedly, but I figured this was pretty much all the proof I needed to know that she wasn't as indifferent as she claimed.  I could already picture the freak-out session she'd have with Liz when class was over.

Then I looked at Kyle Valenti, and the opportunity to tease my little sister paled with the need to protect her from the guy who was staring at her.  Sure, he might be Isabel's brother, and sure, he seemed like a nice guy in her dreams, but they were dreams, after all.  How much could I really depend on them, especially when my little sister was concerned?

"And last, but of course, not least…Alex Whitman-" my head snapped up, and I glanced around the room, wondering who else was left, "And Isabel Valenti."

I gripped the edge of the desk and fought back the howl of excitement that threatened to spill out.

That's all the proof I need.  Somewhere, somehow, there's some supernatural power smiling down on me.  Either that, or I'm the luckiest guy on this planet, or any other.  Because I, Alex Whitman, get to do an in-depth study and find out what makes the girl of my dreams tick.

Life is good.

*

Part Twenty-One – Isabel

It all started out normally enough.  I sat down, and he said hello.  It scared me a little, being that close to him and not knowing how much he knew about me, but I'm Isabel Valenti, the Ice Princess.  Nothing bothers me, so I can certainly deal with some guy at West Roswell High.

That's when the floor dropped out from under me.  The teacher was wandering around the room, dropping questionnaires and class outlines on each desk, when he paired me up with him.  Alex Whitman.

I'd had this fluttery feeling in my stomach ever since the teacher, Mr. Sommers first started talking about pairing up students.  I just knew that somehow, someway, I would be with him.  The guy who, if I'm entirely honest, fascinates and terrifies me at once.

"When should we get together to work on this?" he asked me.

I turned in my chair reluctantly, the only outward sign I was nervous was that I kept playing with my rings.  "After school?  I have my jeep, so we could go back to my place," I suggested, deciding that home turf advantage had to count for something.

He nodded.  "Where do you want to meet?"

I consulted my schedule.  "I've got English last, so how about on the front steps?"

He nodded as the bell rang.  "I'll see you then, Isabel."  He flashed me a smile over his shoulder as he strolled out of the room, and I was left to stare after him.  He sure knows how to make an exit, I admitted ruefully.

Mia came up behind me and linked arms with me.  "You okay?" she asked softly, guiding me out of the room.  "You looked pretty out-of-it for a while there."

I smiled weakly and nodded.  "Yeah, I think so.  Everything just got kind of…weird for a minute.  Nerves, I guess," I answered, deciding not to worry her.  She had enough to worry about right now without my problems added to it.

She looked hard at me for a minute, probably weighing the veracity of my words.  Then she smiled and started pulling me down the hall.  "We've got Spanish next," she informed me.

"So what do you think of the whole biography assignment?"

A sound emitted from my sister's throat that I'd never heard before.  It almost sounded like a growl.  "I got stuck with the most egotistical, wretched males on the planet!  He's smart-mouthed and rude and poorly-groomed.  And that hair!  Izzy, did you see his hair?"

I couldn't help but smile.  This was the most animated I've seen my sister since before Mom and Dad announced the move.  "So you like him, Mia?"

She stopped, dead in her tracks, only a few steps from our classroom.  "Are you crazy?" she asked.  "Where did that idea come from?"

I lifted an eyebrow, and she caved.

"Yeah," she whispered.  "I think I do."

I gave her a little hug as we headed into the classroom.  "Are you meeting him after school to work on the project?"

Mia sat down across from me and suddenly found smoothing imaginary wrinkles out of her skirt more interesting than looking me in the eye.  I smothered a grin.  Mia always looked me in the eye…except in those few weeks she was falling hard for Jeremy the Jerk.  Sure, that turned out to be nothing more than a teenaged crush and it fizzled out and became something much less than love, but I couldn't help but wonder if maybe my prediction had come true.  Maybe Mia really had found love in Roswell, New Mexico.  And even if it wasn't the be-all, end-all romance of her life, if it helped her get over that little twit Jeremy, I was all for it. 

But if Michael Evans hurts my sister, he's going to have to deal with me.  And I'm gonna make damn sure he knows it, too.

Finally, she looked up and nodded, glancing around slightly to make sure no one else could hear.  "Yeah.  At this little café, the Crashdown.  He said he'd give me a ride home, so you don't need to wait."

"Good luck, babe," I told her as the teacher began to spew forth rapid-fire Spanish.

Mia flashed me another hopeful smile, and I couldn't help but smile back.  I have to admit, things were looking up.  My sister was falling hard for someone new and forgetting Jeremy like yesterday's garbage.  Kyle, from the way he tore out of history with that blonde girl, was getting over the pain of losing Tracy.

And me?  I was going to get to learn a little more about one of the most intriguing guys I've ever met.  I just hope he doesn't know anything, that he doesn't know the truth, and that my instincts about him are right. 

I just hope that for once, I can be Isabel Valenti.  A normal girl.

Life is good.

*

Part Twenty-two – Alex

It seems like I've been waiting a lifetime for this, and not just a couple of hours until school ended.  But in a way, I guess I have waited a lifetime.  I've watched her – hell, I've loved her – for more than a decade.  And now it's finally time for me to get to know her.  The real Isabel Valenti.

I fiddled with the strap on my backpack absently, trying to compose my thoughts and emotions.  If our connection went both ways, and she could feel me the way I felt her…well, the last thing I needed right now was for her to sense anything I was feeling right now.  If she did, she'd probably run, screaming, for the hills. 

And not just because I'm head-over-heels in love with her, either.

"Hi, Alex."  I swivelled to face her, so caught up in thinking about her, I hadn't felt, or even heard, her approach.  She was smiling slightly and playing with her rings nervously.

I grinned at her, hoping to put her at ease, and at the same time, reminding myself to be calm.  "Hi, Isabel.  Ready to go?"

"Sure.  My jeep's over there," she told me, gesturing vaguely towards a red jeep that could've been Max and Michael's jeep's long lost twin.  Chalk up another point to the theory that this is the girl they lost all those years ago.

Silently, I followed her to the jeep, trying not to notice how beautiful she was.  There's time for that later, I reminded myself.  You're on a mission.  Get her to trust you, and find out the truth. 

Michael, and to a lesser extent, Max, had made that clear at lunch.  They weren't exactly interested in hearing how beautiful I think she is, or how lucky I felt that we'd been paired together for this assignment.  Instead, all they thought about was what a wonderful opportunity this would be to spy on her, and even more importantly, her father.

I've got to admit, I feel like a real bastard for going along with Michael's little seek-and-discover mission.  I'm investigating the girl I think I love.  How low is that?  If she ever found out…well, let's just say that I'd have a snowball's chance in hell of ever being allowed around her again.

She won't find out, I told myself firmly as I climbed in the jeep next to her.  She gave me a slightly puzzled smile as she started the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot, probably wondering why I was so quiet.  She looked so beautiful when she looked confused…  I won't do anything wrong.  I'll just do the assignment, and screw Michael and Max.

But what about Tess?  What about your sister? Can you let her down, put her at risk?

I nearly groaned aloud in frustration, and Isabel glanced at me, raising one perfectly-shaped eyebrow.  I smiled weakly, although internally, I cursed the little voice in my head that reminded me about Tessie.  I couldn't let her down.  I just couldn't.  I couldn't put her in danger, not even if it meant losing any and all chance I may have had with the only girl I've ever loved.

The most annoying thing about the whole damn thing was, that little voice sounded like Michael Evans.

I barely noticed when the car stopped, causing Isabel to glance at me, confused, again.  "We're here," she finally said, frowning slightly, when I made no move to get out of the car.

"Oh," I said, laughing weakly.  "Guess I was just thinking about the assignment."

She nodded, clearly not buying my explanation.  But then again, if I was her, I wouldn't buy my explanation, either.

I followed her to the front porch of a large house about halfway between my house and the Evans'.  "Nice place."

She smiled over her shoulder at me as she unlocked the door with her key.  I wondered, vaguely, if she really needed the key, or if, like Michael, Max and Tess, she could simply wave a hand and open any lock she chose.

"Thanks," she said, holding the door open for me.  "We're not entirely unpacked yet, so please excuse the mess.  Mom and Dad moved in a week before Maria and Kyle and I did, so the downstairs looks okay, but don't let that fool you.  It's a wreck upstairs."

I laughed – the first genuine laugh of the afternoon.  "I'm pretty sure we still have boxes in the basement that aren't unpacked from when we moved to Roswell, and that was ten years ago."

She smiled, relaxing.  "Would you like a snack or something to drink?" she offered, leading me into the kitchen.  She picked up a note from the table and glanced at it.

"What's that?" I asked, hating that I couldn't just wait and let her tell me if she wanted to or not, that I couldn't just trust her.  Damn Michael and his paranoia.

"A note from my Dad, telling Mia and Kyle and me that he hoped we had a good day, and that he'll be home early." 

"Oh…what does he do?"

"He's the new sheriff…but I'm sure you already knew that," she replied, smiling at me.  I raised my eyebrows, and she giggled.  "Roswell is a small town, after all."

"Yeah, I guess it is.  So why'd you move back here?"

Isabel shrugged, somehow making a simple movement look elegant.  "Dad and Mom both got offered jobs here.  Dad said he wanted a change in career, a chance to spend more time with Kyle and Maria and me."

Maybe Liz was wrong…maybe Valenti wasn't out to get Michael and Max and Tess, like we feared.

"We don't really understand why he wanted to move back here, either," she told me, and my heart sank a little.  So much for that theory.  Then she smiled again, grabbing two apples out of the bowl on the counter and replacing the note on the table.  "Do you want to work in my room?" she asked.

I nodded, a little breathless, as I followed her up the stairs and into the second door on the left.  I looked around, taking in the tranquil, pale blue walls and the mementos of her childhood, proudly displayed on the walls and bookshelves. 

She let me into her room?  I mean, sure, I've seen into her heart and soul…I've shared her innermost thoughts and feelings…but it had to mean something if she was going to let me into her bedroom, something I knew she considered her inner sanctum.

And I couldn't even enjoy it because I couldn't be myself.  I had to find out information, I had to protect my friends and my sister.

Why did life have to be so complicated?

*

Part Twenty-three – Isabel

I flopped onto my bed and pulled out the questionnaire, peeking at Alex under my lashes.  He was acting kind of strangely…I shook my head firmly, earning one of the have-you-totally-lost-it looks I'd been giving him all afternoon.  I smiled weakly. I was not about to start jumping at every shadow.  Not now.  Alex wasn't a threat to me.  He couldn't be.

I don't want him to be.

It was that attempt to throw caution to the wind and just trust someone, without them proving themselves to me, that convinced me to bring him upstairs to my bedroom.  Sure, we could've worked in the living room or the kitchen…but I wanted, desperately, for him to see me, the real me.  The girl, the scared, lonely girl.  Isabel Valenti.

Maybe seeing my room, full of stuff that makes me feel safe and loved, will give him an idea of who I am without my having to tell him.

A girl can dream, can't she?

"Ready to get started?" I asked, hoping my voice sounded cheerful and relaxed.  Instead, it sounded strange and forced.  Maybe I wasn't as calm as I would've liked to think.  How did this one guy, after all the guys I've shot down over the years, have this amazing ability to get under my skin?

He nodded.  "Okay, first question.  What a surprise.  What's your favourite ice cream flavour?"

"Chocolate.  You?"

"Chocolate."

I raised an eyebrow, but let it go. Chocolate was a pretty popular flavour, after all.  "Favourite relative?"

"My sister, definitely.  We're pretty much the same age, and I've got to admit, she's my best friend. How about you?"

"My sister, Mia," I answered, this time both eyebrows raised.  "She's my best friend, too.  What's your favourite book?"

"In Love and War."

"Really?" I asked.  From what little I've seen of him, that's not exactly the kind of book I'd pictured him liking.

He tried keeping a straight face for a few minutes before he gave in and started laughing.  "No, not really. I love the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.  You?"

I smiled. Maybe he wasn't playing some weird head game with me and anticipating my answers.  "Wuthering Heights and The Chronicles of Narnia.  I've re-read them both so many times, they're probably going to fall apart soon."  I didn't tell him that I dreamed when I was a little girl, that I dreamed Narnia was my real world, that my parents were there, waiting for me and missing me...and that I would be safe there.  I didn't tell him that I had a crush on Heathcliff when I was thirteen because he seemed like the only male in the world that could understand me…an assessment I'm rapidly beginning to think doesn't apply to Bronte's hero, but instead to Alex.

"So…what are you afraid of, Isabel?"

I chewed on my lower lip, wondering how honest I should be.  From what I've seen of Alex Whitman, from what I've felt from Alex Whitman, he's definitely a person I want to get to know better.  But then, there's that whole nasty little trust issue.  Can I trust him not to break my heart if I tell him all my secrets?  Better yet, can I trust him to keep my secrets?

I just don't know.

I lowered my eyes, unable to look at him.  "I lost my family once, when I was little."  That was partially true, at least…as honest as I could be with him right now.  Maybe someday…  "I guess the thing that terrifies me the most is the thought of losing my parents or Kyle and Mia."

I traced a pattern on my bedspread with my fingernail as I waited for him to respond. What if he thought it was silly?  What if he wanted to know more about it?

"I'm sorry about your other family," he said softly, coming to sit beside me on the bed.  "How old were you?"

"Six," I told him, relaxing slightly.  What was it about this guy that had such a calming effect on me?  He makes me feel safe…something I'm not sure I've ever really felt before.  "What about you, Alex?  What are you afraid of?"

"That I'll lose someone I care about because of things I can't control."

I smiled, offering him the same comfort he gave me, but he wouldn't look me in the eye.

"What's your worse memory?" he asked, still refusing to look at me.  Instead, he scribbled my previous answer on the handout.

This was one answer I couldn't give him, or he would know too much.  I'm sorry, I told him mentally.  "Losing my family," I lied.

That isn't my worst memory.  Watching the boys run away from me that night…it was bad, sure, but it didn't compare to another day.  My worst memory is the day I found out the truth about myself, the day I found out I wasn't normal.  The day my life became truly insane.  But he'd never understand that, and I could never explain it.

Why does life have to be so complicated?

*

Part Twenty-four – Alex

"What's your worst memory?" she asked me, her big brown eyes looking up at me, full of trust and something I didn't quite recognize. 

I had to bite back my laughter.  If she only knew… "Kind of a morbid question, isn't it?" I asked her, delaying the inevitable.  She nodded, arching one beautiful eyebrow, silently telling me to stop avoiding the question.  I sighed.  There was no way I could answer that question truthfully.  Because, in all honesty, my worst memory involved saving Max from the Special Unit of the FBI.  As much as I wanted to trust her, as much as I was already starting to love her, I couldn't tell her that.  I couldn't risk my sister and my friends like that.  If my instincts were wrong, if she wasn't the missing alien, and I told her the truth, and she told her father…  "The day my grandfather died."

"I'm sorry," she told me, her hand brushing mine briefly, making me feel even guiltier for lying to her.  "Were you close?"

I nodded, quickly changing the subject.  I've never been a good liar, and with her…I'm pretty sure she knows how I feel, that I'm wearing my heart on my sleeve.  "What's your best memory?"

She smiled at me, her entire face lighting up and her eyes sparkling.  "The day my Dad officially adopted me."  She paused, and glanced at me before staring at her hands.  "My birth parents died when I was little, so I came to live with my mother's sister and Maria.  After Mom and Dad got married, Dad officially adopted me and Mia."  Her voice trembled a little, and I was sure she wasn't telling me everything.  More proof that maybe she wasn't the innocent schoolgirl that she appeared to be.  "So…what's your best memory?"

Meeting you…I bit down hard on my tongue, trying to keep those words from escaping my mouth.  Great idea, Whitman, I told myself.  Like she wouldn't go screaming for the hills if you told her you were hopelessly in love with her.  I shrugged.  "When my parents adopted my sister, I guess."

I watched her scribble the answer on the sheet.  Even her handwriting seemed perfect.  You know you've got it bad when…

"What do you dream about?" she asked me.

You.  I could feel my ears turn red, and I glanced at her, unsure if the word had involuntarily fallen from my lips.  From the way she looked at me expectantly, I didn't think so.  Funny thing is, I'm not sure whether I'm happy it didn't or not.

I wracked my brain, trying to think of a plausible answer.  But she was the only answer I had.  It had always been her.  Finally, I shrugged.  "What does anyone dream about?" I asked.  "Having a million dollars, being famous…the usual, I guess."

Maybe I was mistaken, but I could've sworn she looked vaguely disappointed.

Why couldn't I just be a normal guy?

*

Part Twenty-Five – Isabel

"What do you dream about?" he asked me, his voice soft.  His bright blue eyes captured mine, and for a second, I felt like I was falling into an abyss.

You.  That was what I wanted to say, but I couldn't find the words to explain.  I had to fight back a semi-hysterical giggle.  There were no words to explain, because there was no explanation.  It made absolutely no sense for me to know this completely normal, human boy from my dreams.  And he'd probably think I was insane if I admitted the truth.

The truth.  I had to fight back another fit of laughter.  We were supposed to be learning each other's deepest, darkest secrets, and all I was doing was lying to him.  If he ever found out the truth, he'd probably hate me.  Or be scared of me, at the very least.  And if I was really lucky, he wouldn't turn me over to scientists who would love nothing more than to see me floating in a vat of formaldehyde.

I shook my head, tearing my eyes away from his hypnotic gaze and making my blonde hair fly around my face.  One of his hands reached up tentatively and brushed my hair out of my eyes, tucking it behind my ear, gently, carefully.  As if I were made of glass.  I could feel my heart rate accelerate, and I fought to keep my breathing even.

Lots of guys had touched me before, and some had even tried to grope me before I stopped them with a well-placed knee to the groin, but not like this.  Never like this.  No one had ever made me feel so special, so important…and never with such a simple gesture.

Frantically, I tried to remember what he'd asked me, but I drew a blank.  All I could think about was how much I wanted him to kiss me.

Stop it, Isabel!  I told myself. You know the rules.  You've got to stay aloof.  No one can get near you…you'll only get hurt.  You, and them. 

I sighed softly and pulled myself back into the present.  "Dreams?  I don't really remember my dreams," I lied, ignoring the feeble protests of my heart.

He stared at me for a second.  "What do you want, Isabel?" he asked.

I glanced at him, confused, and flipped through the questionnaire.  "That question's not on here."

"I know.  These question's…we both know they're useless.  They don't tell us anything important about each other.  What do you, Isabel Valenti, want out of life?"

I released a breath I hadn't even known I was holding.  "To be happy, safe, loved."   It was the first honest answer I'd given all afternoon.  Now…I just needed to find the courage to say the rest of it.  "To be with someone who loves me," I added softly, refusing to meet his eyes.  I fought back the sudden tears that threatened to spill down my cheeks. 

Why was I so emotional?  Why did he have such an effect on me?  I barely know him.  I'm the Ice Princess.  Nothing should matter to me.

Especially not Alex Whitman.

But he did matter.  He did, and I think we both knew it.

He tilted my chin up until I met his eyes.  Slowly, he leaned in, and I could feel his warm breath on my cheek.  And I knew it was about to happen, that he was about to kiss me, and I wanted it more than anything else I've ever wanted in my life…

"Izzy!"  My sister's screech was accompanied with the slamming of the front door and the sound of pounding feet as she charged up the stairs, in typical Mia-fashion.  Startled, we sprang apart, and in that second, I both hated my sister and thanked her for keeping me from doing something stupid.

"Oh, sorry," she said, stopping short as she charged into my room.  She glanced at each of us, and then turned back to me, her eyes wide.  "I didn't realize anyone else was here.  I'll just come back later."  She turned, as if to go, but Alex stopped her.

"No, it's okay.  I've really got to get going.  We'll finish this up later, okay, Isabel?"

Mutely, I nodded and watched him gather his things.  Oh, god…did he regret what we'd almost done?  Did he know what I was, after all?  Was he disgusted by me?

He smiled at me, and I managed to wave weakly, and then he was gone. 

"Are you okay?" Mia asked softly, coming to sit beside me on my bed after we'd heard the front door swing closed.

"No, I'm not," I whispered.  "I've never been so confused in my life," I added with a pathetic little whimper.

Why couldn't I just be a normal girl?

*

Part Twenty-Six – Alex

"Great move, Whitman," I muttered to myself as I closed the front door of the Valenti house behind me.  "Now she probably thinks you hate her."

"Can I help you with anything, son?" The deep, firm voice came from in front of me.

I glanced up to find a brown-haired man in front of me, his glacial blue eyes staring straight at me.  I got the sense that he could see right through me if he felt like it, like he could read my mind and extract all my secrets.

"Um…no, no thanks.  You must be Isabel and Maria's father." The words flew out of my mouth, tumbling over each other in their speed to get out and distract him.  What was it about this man that made me nervous?  It had to be more than the fact that he was the father of the girl I'm rapidly falling in love with.  The air around him seemed to sizzle with energy, but unlike Maria's, his was downright eerie.

"And you are?" he asked, his tone even.

"Al-Alex Whitman," I mumbled, somehow managing to grow even more nervous.  Did he know I almost kissed Isabel? 

What have I done?  Now public enemy number one – the alien FBI hunter after my sister and my friends – knows I exist. 

Perfect.  Just swell.

"You know my daughters, Mr. Whitman?"

Why do I feel like I'm going through a police interrogation?  Oh, yeah.  Because he's a cop.  All that's missing is the bright light shining in my eyes.  I glanced down, looking for something to focus on – anything to focus on, other than his steely blue eyes – and then I saw it.

The gun.  The big, shiny gun glistening in the sunlight.

I gulped and looked back at his eyes.  They suddenly seemed…safer…than anywhere else.

"Yeah…Isabel and I are partners for our history assignment.  Um…I was just leaving."  I gestured vaguely over my shoulder and backed up a few steps.  At his slight nod, I took off, just grateful to have escaped our encounter with all my limbs intact. 

As soon as I was around the corner, I broke into a run, desperate to put as much distance between me and six-gun Annie back there as possible.

That's when my living nightmare got worse.

Behind me, a horn honked, and I drew up short, panting a little.  There's a reason dodge-ball is my favourite sport.  I glanced over my shoulder, and nearly decided to keep running.

Why is my life like this?

*

Part Twenty-Seven - Isabel

"What happened?" Maria asked, stroking my hair.  We'd reversed the position we had done hundreds of times before.  Only this time, it was my head resting on her lap.  This time, it was me that was too emotionally exhausted to do anything but let the tears fall.

This time, I was the one whose heart had been bruised by a boy I cared about.

"We almost kissed," I whispered as I felt another tear trickle down my cheek.  I stared blankly out the window, knowing that the only way I could tell my sister what happened was to blank out everything else.  "Mia…I know him."

Her hand ceased its rhythmic strokes, and I could feel her frowning at me.   "Of course you know him, Izzy.  You met him today."

I shook my head.  "No, Mia, I mean I know him.  I've always known him.  He's always been there, in my dreams."

"What?"

I closed my eyes, desperately trying to stop the tears that threatened to leak out.  I gave a tiny, mirthless laugh.  Wonder what happened to the girl who once swore she'd never cry over any man?

I sighed.  I don't have to wonder what happened to that girl.  I know.  She fell in love.  I fell in love.

And maybe I was better off alone.

I rolled onto my back and faced my sister.  "Do you remember my imaginary friend?"  She nodded slightly, looking worried and confused.  "Alex.  It was him.  It was always him."  The last few words came out as a pathetic whimper, and I hated myself for forgetting the cardinal rule.  Never get involved.  I wanted to hate him, but even as hurt and confused as I was, I couldn't do it.

"How is that even possible?"

"I don't know.  I just don't know."  I sat up, and she handed me a tissue.  Ignoring it, I ran a hand over my face and removed all traces of my tears.  Dad and Kyle would be home soon, and Mom would be home soon after them.  I couldn't take their questions and concern.  I couldn't handle Dad's anger at anyone who brought one of his little girls to tears.  I couldn't handle Kyle's desire to pound the person that hurt his sisters into the ground.  And I really couldn't handle Mom's sympathetic looks and offers of herbal tea and empty promises that everything would be okay in the morning.

"I…I think he knows," I whispered, needing to tell someone the truth.  The words were tumbling around in my mind, chasing after every look, every touch, everything he said, everything he did.  "I think he knows what I am."

"Oh, god…"  Her lower lip trembled, and I could see she was fighting to be strong for me.  We both knew what this could mean.  We both knew that he could tell someone what he suspected, and I would be locked up in one of those government labs I saw when we toured one of the FBI facilities with Dad a few years back - labs straight out of my nightmares.  We both knew that she could lose a sister, and I could lose my life if he did know and we couldn't convince him to keep quiet.

"Maybe you're wrong.  Maybe he doesn't know."  A tear trickled down her cheek and her voice sounded high-pitched, frightened.  Desperate.

I shook my head.  I'm not.  I fought back the new batch of tears that threatened to fall as I saw the fear in my sister's eyes.  "Please, Mia, promise me."  I hated the way my voice trembled, I hated how weak I sounded, but I couldn't help it.  I've never been so scared in my life.

And my heart's never hurt so much.

"Anything," she swore, hugging me tightly.

"You can't tell anyone about this.  Not even Kyle, not yet."  I paused, clenching my fists so tightly that my nails dug into the palms of my hands.  Just being around them could endanger my family, and I sure as hell wasn't going to put them at risk.  Not after everything they've done for me.  Not after they took me in, made me one of them, loved me… No.  I had to protect them, no matter what it took.  "I'll find some way to make him keep quiet.  And if I can't…"

"If you can't, then what?" she demanded.

"Then I'll run."

Why is my life like this?

*

Part Twenty-Eight - Alex

Almost.  I almost made it.  Just two more minutes and I would've turned onto my street.

But I guess the universe had other plans.

Sometimes, I don't like the universe.

"Alex! Get in.  We're headed out to the cave to discuss the whole Isabel situation."

Slowly, I walked over to the jeep and pulled myself in behind Michael and Max.  Liz offered me a weak smile and Tess shrugged as she and Liz squeezed closer together to make room for me.

"Don't say anything until we get out of town," Michael reminded me, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.  "We don't want to risk anyone overhearing."

I nodded, glad to have been given even a ten-minute reprieve.  Frantically, I tried to come up with something to tell them.  Something that would protect my friends and my sister, while at the same time, keeping the girl I loved away from Michael's paranoia and Max's demands. 

But is that even fair to her?  I wondered, struggling with my internal debate.  If she was one of them, she deserved to know she wasn't alone.  And if she knew anything about where they came from, they deserved to know that, too.  But doesn't she also deserve her privacy?  Shouldn't she get to decide what she's going to do with her life, and not Max and Michael?

Because that possibility was present, as much as I didn't want to admit it.  They're great guys – two of my best friends - and they love Tess, sure, but they do control her to a certain extent.  And does Isabel really deserve to be put in danger, too?  As far as I could tell, she's flying low on the FBI's radar.  They had no idea she even existed…and I would like to keep it that way.  Keep her safe.  Even if it meant I couldn't be with her.

I was jolted out of my reverie as the jeep screeched to a halt, in true Michael Evans-style.  I clamoured out of the jeep after my sister and best friend and followed them up the rocky embankment to the cave.

They'd found this just over a year ago, their first real clue about where they came from.  The first time Tessie brought me here and showed me the four pods that she and the others had been nestled in for safekeeping for all those years, a feeling of awe came over me.  Awe that there was a culture out there, somewhere, advanced enough to travel to Earth and keep three – no, four – children in stasis for fifty years.  But I felt something else, too, at the time.  Something I couldn't identify then.

Now, I know.  It was her I felt.  Isabel.  Her…essence, her imprint was all over this place.  I could feel Tess, Max and Michael at the time, but now, I can feel her here, too. 

"So?  What did you find out?"  Michael asked anxiously.  "Is she like us?"

I hesitated, weighing my loyalties, before I realized I had never really had a choice.  I sighed.  "Yeah.  I think she is."

Isabel, please forgive me…

*

Part Twenty-Nine – Isabel

"How was the first day of school, kids?"

I nearly choked on my salad.  I shot a warning look at Mia, and concentrated on swallowing, but my throat seemed to want to stop working.

Finally, I was able to smile cheerily at Dad.  "Everything was fine," I answered, lying through my teeth.

"I met your friend today, Izzy," Dad said casually.  "Pass me the mashed potatoes, son?"

I glanced at Mia, who had gone slightly pale.  "What friend is that, Dad?" I asked cautiously, hoping desperately that he was referring to the kid who sat next to me in math.

"Alex, I think his name was.  Met him on his way out."

Mia kicked me under the table, and I shot her a warning look.  "We were assigned to do a history report together, Daddy," I told him.  "Kyle was working with Alex's sister.  What was her name again?"

"Tess Whitman," he replied, glaring at me as Mom pounced on the new topic.

"Is she nice, honey?  Is she seeing anyone?  Perhaps we can have her over for supper one night."

"Mom," he said firmly, clearly hoping to prevent our mother from interfering in his love life.  Good luck.  "She is not my girlfriend.  I am dating Tracy.  You remember her, right?  Beautiful, talented, intelligent.  Lives in Albuquerque?"

"Of course I remember Tracy, honey.  But you're so young to be so serious about anyone.  What can it hurt to date other people?  As you pointed out, you are in different cities right now, dear."

"Mom.  I am not breaking up with Tracy.  I love her, and she loves me.  Just because you and Dad decided we had to move back to this backwater town doesn't mean I'm going to forget about her."

Mom sighed, suddenly looking much older than thirty-seven.  Mia and I exchanged another glance.

"I forgot to tell you, Kyle, there's a letter from Tracy on the hall table," Maria told him quickly. 

I jumped in, knowing I was putting myself back in the line of fire, but hoping to keep this from escalating any further.  "Mom?  Can you help me bake some pies this weekend?  I called the homeless shelter after Alex left, and they're desperate for volunteers.  I said I would help out, and I would really love to bring some pies with me."

"Sure," she replied, her eyes glittering at the thought of a new baking project.  I couldn't help but smile.  Pies were always a good way to distract my mother.

"That Alex fellow…he seemed rather odd," Dad said hesitantly.  "Jumpy.  Nervous.  I don't think he's good enough for you, sweetie."

"We're just partners on a school project, Dad," I whispered, trying to forget the look in his beautiful blue eyes as he leaned towards me.  Trying to forget the way he made me feel.  Trying to remember that I was supposed to fear him.

It's not that easy to convince your heart what it's feeling is a lie.

"He's just another boy under my charm, Dad," I added with a giggle and a toss of my long blonde hair.  He smiled and nodded, looking satisfied, and when he glanced away, I carefully brushed away the single tear that threatened to escape.

Alex, please forgive me…

*

Part Thirty – Alex

"Are you okay?"

I looked up to see my sister leaning against my bedroom door, concern written all over her face.

I sighed, closing the book I'd been pretending to read for the last hour and fell back against the pillows.  "Honestly?  I don't know."

Slowly, she walked inside, pushing the door shut behind her the way she'd done every other time I've ever had a problem, knowing that anything I was about to say would stay between us.  She straddled my desk chair and rested her chin on the top rung.

"You love her."  It was a statement, not a question.

I nodded, watching her face anxiously.  What if she thought I was nuts?  Why wouldn't she?  I thought I was nuts.

She smiled, and I let out a sigh of relief.  "That's great, Alex.  I'm happy for you."

"I know it seems fast, but…"  I threw up my hands helplessly.  "I've dreamed about her all my life.  I've loved her for as long as I can remember.  I don't know how to do anything else but love her.  I know I don't really know her, and I don't know how she feels…I can't explain it."

"Who can explain love?" she asked, looking sad.

"What's wrong?" I asked, pulling myself into a sitting position.  She crossed the room and sat next to me, her forehead leaning against my shoulder.  I wrapped an arm around her and made soothing noises as she cried softly.

Finally, she sat up and dried her cheeks.  "Sorry," she said, giving me a slightly embarrassed smile.

"What are brothers for?"  She giggled, and I grinned back at her.  "Want to tell me what's wrong?"

"I'm so stupid."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Her eyes dropped to her hands.  She seemed to find her rings suddenly fascinating.  "I like him," she whispered, so softly that I had to strain to hear.

"Who?"  I know I'm not entirely up-to-date on my sister's latest crushes – that was Liz's department, after all – but the last one I remember hearing about was Luke Miller, and that was a few months ago.

"Kyle Valenti," she told me miserably.

"What's wrong with that?"

"He has a girlfriend."

Oh.

"He told me he loves her."

Oh.

"Right after I asked him to Marcie's party."

Ouch.

I squeezed her shoulders.  "It'll be okay."

She looked up at me, a ghost of a smile haunting her lips.  "I know."  Then she shook her head, as if to chase away any thought of Kyle Valenti, making her blonde curls bounce.  "Are you okay?"

I sighed, and briefly considered lying, but I've never lied to Tess.  And she'd never let the subject just drop anyway.  "I feel guilty, like I betrayed her."

"Why?"

"I've put Max and Michael on her trail.  She might not even be one of you.  I don't have any real proof, I just think she is, and I might be screwing up her life for no reason."

"You didn't have any other choice," she told me gently.  "And even if you had told him she was completely human, Michael wouldn't have just let it go.  You know him.  He wouldn't be happy until he had a blood sample."

"I know."  I ran my fingers through my hair and sighed again.  "It's just that she's lost any chance at a normal life now, if she is like you guys.  I might've put her at risk, too."

"And you may have saved her life."  Tess stared at me, her blue eyes serious.  "She might've gotten exposed one day, and no one to turn to for help.  We can help her.  And if Valenti is still FBI, she's walking a tightrope every day."

She gave me a quick hug and slipped out of my room, pulling the door shut behind her.  I glanced out of the window at the night sky.

Maybe things will work out, after all.

*