ME: Oy, sorry for the wait. But I've got a lot of homework and stuff that
demands my attention even more than my beloved fanfiction. (Shakes head
sadly.) What is the world coming to...?
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ROSWELL, I DON'T EVEN OWN THE COMPUTER I'M TYPING ON RIGHT NOW. (WAILS.)
ME: Right, story time.
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"So, what's your favourite colour?"
"Green."
"Cool. What's your favourite, um...food?"
"Pizza."
"Your favourite animal?"
"Tiger." He rolled his eyes as the girl rattled off a seemingly endless list of questions. Were all the kids in Roswell this nosy? Glancing at the other kids near them in the playground, staring over at him to hear his answers he guessed so.
"What about your favourite pop group?"
"I don't like pop." She gasped at him.
"You don't like pop?!" Her voice was incredulous, even for an eight year old. "Well, what do you like?"
"Rock, metal, stuff like that." The girl's eyes widened.
"Oh, so you're one of those kids." Adam frowned at her suspiciously.
"What sort of kids?"
"Oh, y'know. The ones who wear all the scary make-up and wear big baggy clothes. And they listen to lotsa loud music." She waved her hands, as if she was making the point any clearer. "Goths, I think they're called. Most of 'em go to high school but." Adam frowned again, and resisted the urge to correct her grammar. His mother had always corrected his grammar, but he was trying to make friends today, and not show off.
"I'm not a Goth!" He protested. "I just don't like pop music."
"Why?"
"Because it's rubbish!" She gasped again.
"It is not! It's much better than all that 'rocky' music you like!" She huffed and stormed away, the rest of the kids leaving with her, sensing that the interrogation was over. One boy, however, remained. He walked over to Adam and smiled at him reassuringly.
"You shouldn't worry about what Rachel thinks." He said, nodding in his head I the retreating girl's direction. "She just thinks she knows everything, but she doesn't really." Adam looked at the boy curiously. He was a bit taller than he was, with short, cropped brown hair and a blonde fringe. He was wearing a navy blue hooded-top, black trousers and white Nike trainers. He smiled again. "My name's Joseph Murdoch, but people just call me Joey."
"My name's Adam." Joey nodded his head.
"I know. The whole class has been talking about you all day, ever since Mr Peterson said this morning that we were getting a new classmate." He glanced at Adam's blue basketball shirt and grinned. "I like your top."
"Thanks."
"Do you play basketball?"
"Yes." The taller boy's eyes lit up.
"Really? 'Cos we have a court on the other side of the playground, and I brought my ball. Wanna go play?" Now it was Adam's turn to smile.
"Yeah!" Joey grabbed his arm.
"Well, come on then! Let's get to it before the bigger kids do." And he pulled Adam across the playground, but he didn't really mind. He'd made a new friend on his first day afterall.
It wasn't so hard.
Meanwhile, Max and Liz's place:
"Do you think Adam will be alright on his first day at school?" No response. Liz sighed impatiently. "Max!" He turned around, startled.
"W-what?" She rolled her eyes.
"Do you think Adam's going to be alright at school today?"
"Oh. Yeah, yeah, he'll be fine. I'm sure of it." He replied confidently. Liz wasn't so sure.
"I don't know." She said slowly. "He doesn't seem to be adjusting well to Roswell." Max's smile faltered slightly when he realised where she was going with this."
"Liz, no..." He began, but she cut him off.
"No, Max. If he doesn't like it here, we'll have to go back to Seattle." Max took a step forward and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into s tight embrace.
"I don't want you to go." He said quietly, sounding a child. She pulled away from him, her eyes dark with anger.
"Dammit Max, it's not about you!" She yelled at him furiously. "Why don't you think about someone other then yourself for a change? This is about Adam!"
"You think I don't know that? Adam's my son too, you know!"
"Then why don't you act like his father?!" That did it. Max shut up right away, hurt apparent in his eyes. They stayed like that for a couple of minutes, staring unblinkingly at one another. Thinking of something, anything to break the unbearable silence. Finally, Max spoke.
"I've tried, Liz. God, how I've tried." He said sadly, and Liz was shocked but strangely pleased to see that he was close to tears. "But he won't even give me a chance."
"You've not given him a reason to." No Dammit Liz, stop! Part of her brain was now yelling, screaming at her to shut the hell up, before she said something she really didn't mean. Another part of her brain was thinking of ways to hurt him further, and another part was wondering just how long it would take to get to Seattle from Roswell by train. Max's brain, on the other hand, was thinking furiously to find a way to make Liz stay in Roswell, and just how much Michael's new vintage Cadillac cost, but he pushed that thought far down into the back of his mind and concentrated solely on Liz.
"I've tried Liz, really I have. But Adam hates me."
"He's making sense there." Max's face crumpled.
"Do you...hate me too?" He asked her, searching her features frantically for a reaction. Liz was torn.
"Yes...no...I, I don't know!" She yelled, throwing herself at him and busting into heart-wrenching sobs. Max put his arms around her again, his own heart breaking at her reaction. Everything she just said was catching up with him now, and it hit him like a slap in the face.
*"Then why don't you act like his father?..."*
It was true. All the time Max had acted like he was being wronged. His son's reaction had cut him deep, but it was nothing he didn't deserve. He had said sorry to Liz over a hundred times now, but..
...he had never once said it to Adam.
Damn. That was wrong. How could he ever even hope of getting close to the boy when he couldn't even say sorry? Sighing heavily, he just stood there for a while, unable to move and trying desperately to comfort the crying woman in his arms.
A couple of hours later:
Adam walked into the apartment and the door shut noisily behind him. He winced. Damn, that door was loud! Liz stuck her head out from the kitchen.
"Hi sweetie, how was your day? Did you make any friends?" She asked as she left the kitchen and sat down on the sofa where he was now slumped, flicking the channels on the TV. He looked up at her.
"Yeah, I did. His name's Joey and he's really cool!" He said brightly. Liz smiled.
"That's great, Adam!" She walked back towards the kitchen.
"Oh, and mom?" He called after her. She stopped.
"What?"
"I said he could come over today so that we could play basketball."
"What!?"
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ME: MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Review, or there will be no more chapters!
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ROSWELL, I DON'T EVEN OWN THE COMPUTER I'M TYPING ON RIGHT NOW. (WAILS.)
ME: Right, story time.
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # ## # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
"So, what's your favourite colour?"
"Green."
"Cool. What's your favourite, um...food?"
"Pizza."
"Your favourite animal?"
"Tiger." He rolled his eyes as the girl rattled off a seemingly endless list of questions. Were all the kids in Roswell this nosy? Glancing at the other kids near them in the playground, staring over at him to hear his answers he guessed so.
"What about your favourite pop group?"
"I don't like pop." She gasped at him.
"You don't like pop?!" Her voice was incredulous, even for an eight year old. "Well, what do you like?"
"Rock, metal, stuff like that." The girl's eyes widened.
"Oh, so you're one of those kids." Adam frowned at her suspiciously.
"What sort of kids?"
"Oh, y'know. The ones who wear all the scary make-up and wear big baggy clothes. And they listen to lotsa loud music." She waved her hands, as if she was making the point any clearer. "Goths, I think they're called. Most of 'em go to high school but." Adam frowned again, and resisted the urge to correct her grammar. His mother had always corrected his grammar, but he was trying to make friends today, and not show off.
"I'm not a Goth!" He protested. "I just don't like pop music."
"Why?"
"Because it's rubbish!" She gasped again.
"It is not! It's much better than all that 'rocky' music you like!" She huffed and stormed away, the rest of the kids leaving with her, sensing that the interrogation was over. One boy, however, remained. He walked over to Adam and smiled at him reassuringly.
"You shouldn't worry about what Rachel thinks." He said, nodding in his head I the retreating girl's direction. "She just thinks she knows everything, but she doesn't really." Adam looked at the boy curiously. He was a bit taller than he was, with short, cropped brown hair and a blonde fringe. He was wearing a navy blue hooded-top, black trousers and white Nike trainers. He smiled again. "My name's Joseph Murdoch, but people just call me Joey."
"My name's Adam." Joey nodded his head.
"I know. The whole class has been talking about you all day, ever since Mr Peterson said this morning that we were getting a new classmate." He glanced at Adam's blue basketball shirt and grinned. "I like your top."
"Thanks."
"Do you play basketball?"
"Yes." The taller boy's eyes lit up.
"Really? 'Cos we have a court on the other side of the playground, and I brought my ball. Wanna go play?" Now it was Adam's turn to smile.
"Yeah!" Joey grabbed his arm.
"Well, come on then! Let's get to it before the bigger kids do." And he pulled Adam across the playground, but he didn't really mind. He'd made a new friend on his first day afterall.
It wasn't so hard.
Meanwhile, Max and Liz's place:
"Do you think Adam will be alright on his first day at school?" No response. Liz sighed impatiently. "Max!" He turned around, startled.
"W-what?" She rolled her eyes.
"Do you think Adam's going to be alright at school today?"
"Oh. Yeah, yeah, he'll be fine. I'm sure of it." He replied confidently. Liz wasn't so sure.
"I don't know." She said slowly. "He doesn't seem to be adjusting well to Roswell." Max's smile faltered slightly when he realised where she was going with this."
"Liz, no..." He began, but she cut him off.
"No, Max. If he doesn't like it here, we'll have to go back to Seattle." Max took a step forward and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into s tight embrace.
"I don't want you to go." He said quietly, sounding a child. She pulled away from him, her eyes dark with anger.
"Dammit Max, it's not about you!" She yelled at him furiously. "Why don't you think about someone other then yourself for a change? This is about Adam!"
"You think I don't know that? Adam's my son too, you know!"
"Then why don't you act like his father?!" That did it. Max shut up right away, hurt apparent in his eyes. They stayed like that for a couple of minutes, staring unblinkingly at one another. Thinking of something, anything to break the unbearable silence. Finally, Max spoke.
"I've tried, Liz. God, how I've tried." He said sadly, and Liz was shocked but strangely pleased to see that he was close to tears. "But he won't even give me a chance."
"You've not given him a reason to." No Dammit Liz, stop! Part of her brain was now yelling, screaming at her to shut the hell up, before she said something she really didn't mean. Another part of her brain was thinking of ways to hurt him further, and another part was wondering just how long it would take to get to Seattle from Roswell by train. Max's brain, on the other hand, was thinking furiously to find a way to make Liz stay in Roswell, and just how much Michael's new vintage Cadillac cost, but he pushed that thought far down into the back of his mind and concentrated solely on Liz.
"I've tried Liz, really I have. But Adam hates me."
"He's making sense there." Max's face crumpled.
"Do you...hate me too?" He asked her, searching her features frantically for a reaction. Liz was torn.
"Yes...no...I, I don't know!" She yelled, throwing herself at him and busting into heart-wrenching sobs. Max put his arms around her again, his own heart breaking at her reaction. Everything she just said was catching up with him now, and it hit him like a slap in the face.
*"Then why don't you act like his father?..."*
It was true. All the time Max had acted like he was being wronged. His son's reaction had cut him deep, but it was nothing he didn't deserve. He had said sorry to Liz over a hundred times now, but..
...he had never once said it to Adam.
Damn. That was wrong. How could he ever even hope of getting close to the boy when he couldn't even say sorry? Sighing heavily, he just stood there for a while, unable to move and trying desperately to comfort the crying woman in his arms.
A couple of hours later:
Adam walked into the apartment and the door shut noisily behind him. He winced. Damn, that door was loud! Liz stuck her head out from the kitchen.
"Hi sweetie, how was your day? Did you make any friends?" She asked as she left the kitchen and sat down on the sofa where he was now slumped, flicking the channels on the TV. He looked up at her.
"Yeah, I did. His name's Joey and he's really cool!" He said brightly. Liz smiled.
"That's great, Adam!" She walked back towards the kitchen.
"Oh, and mom?" He called after her. She stopped.
"What?"
"I said he could come over today so that we could play basketball."
"What!?"
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
ME: MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Review, or there will be no more chapters!