Note: I don't own the poem
~*~Part TwelveB~*~ [I] You Strip Away The Ugliness That Surrounds Me [/I]
It's times like these that you really think about the lyrical, brilliant works of life. The words of wisdom from those revered people we all look up to.
Take Shel Silverstein for example. I seriously love that man. Besides being talented, he was damn smart. Consider his poem:
[I]Oh, if you're a bird, be an early bird And catch the worm for your breakfast plate. If you're a bird, be an early early bird - But if you're a worm, sleep late.[/I]
It's all perspective and identity. Others, being birds, get the payoff of such situations. Me, being the worm, got screwed.
It's also times like these that make you realize you should have listened to those wise wise people and taken their non too subtle advice.
God damn it, I should have slept late today. Or we could go one step better and I should have stayed in bed the entire day. Then maybe, just maybe I could have avoided this whole embarrassing situation.
Okay, okay, so there is no 'situation' as of yet, since I'm still on the stairs, frozen like a statue, biting my lip and debating whether or not I should really go out there. Especially like [I]this[/I].
My debate is cut short when Maria comes up behind me. [I]Quietly[/I]
"Hey Liz."
I jump in a skitterish manner and a shrill scream escapes from my throat. "God Maria!" I yell loudly as I whirl around, clutching my thumping heart.
Has NO one told her its not nice, and potentially psychologically damaging to sneak up on someone who is deep in thought?
"Uhm, yeah?" Her eyebrows are raised in a way that says "And your point is?"
Apparently not.
I simply sigh and turn my attention back to the bottom of the stairs, and the crucial decision at hand. "Never mind."
Michael comes screeching over, rounding the corner and practically tripping over himself (and the stairs) in his rush. "What happened?" He demands in a steely voice, one underlined with panic.
I just look at him. You know, one of those looks that says "Whoa there, where's the fire?"
"What?"
He shoves his hands through his unruly brown hair in exasperation. Ah, so THAT'S why it looks so messy all the time. "I heard someone scream."
Maria's face softens and she maneuvers by me to clutch his arm. "I just scared Liz a little when I came up behind her. That's all."
His face drains of tension and is molded into one of comprehension. He nods, and says, "Oh."
Weird.
My mind is about to question this odd little display some more, but Maria distracts me in saying cheerfully, "So Parker, you ready to go show em what you're made of?"
Uhm.
My heart leaps up to load in my throat. It literally feels like I am heaving up my own heart, only not so gross. Unmistakable panic grips my stomach and I quite want to be somewhere else right now. Somewhere else, and oh yea, in different attire too. I am not forgiving Maria for a very long time. Or Isabel for that matter. Just when I thought these people might possibly be something resembling friends. Oh sure, you may say that they're only looking out for what's BEST for me but.
Enough mind babbling.
Anyways, as I was saying before I so rudely interrupted myself.
Scared. That's what I am. Me? Ready to go out like THIS?
Not quite.
"Great!"
Per usual, Maria is not on my same wavelength. She grabs my arm, and leads me to the door leading to the backyard. I can see Max and Isabel talking and eating grapes through the glass, and Alex is coming up from the front yard, orange polka dot towel in hand.
Take me back! Beam me up Scottie! I'm CAN'T go out there. No. No. No.
.
Scottie?
.
At least beam me down my clothes.
.
Fine abandon me. No wonder your show died a premature death.
It's too late anyways. The door swings open and Maria lugs me through, Michael trailing behind. I blink against the bright, lovely sunlight and the first thing I see is.
Water. Blue, swirling, malevolent looking water.
My mouth dries, and I'm forced to swallow. Look away. Must look away. I catch of glimpse of Max and Isabel out of the corner of my eye, and decide that that would be a much better viewing than the nightmare in front of me. My heart skips a beat when Max turns around and sees me, and I have to wonder if I'm having a post-traumatic reaction here or.
Or if it's something else.
Before I can contemplate that bizarre occurrence, Max's eyes widen, so I turn around to see what's got him reacting in such a way. And then, I kid you not, he starts choking. CHOKING. Hacking and hawing like he's about to die.
Immediately I rush over. "Max?" And then, like the brilliant person I am, "Are you okay?" God, I really have to wonder sometimes what is wrong with me. Of COURSE he's not okay. There's a grape lodged in his windpipe. But we all know that I must state the obvious. It's like an unspoken, all around fact.
I glance over at Max's caring sister, and to my surprise, she's smirking. I knew she wasn't the most compassionate person around, but really, to just stand back and watch your brother have a choking fit? Isn't that just a tad extreme?
Since no one else seems to care, or know what's going on with Max, I decide to help out a bit. Tentatively, I raise my hand up and rub his back slowly. His body jerks, almost like an electrical current jolted him. I snatch my hands away, wondering "Now what?"
He stops choking and locks his gaze with mine.
Oh perfect. Now he's not breathing.
With one last cough, he seems to recover. Well, thank God anyways. I hate not knowing what to do, standing there like a moron.
"Uhm.Hey." He says.
I have to fight a smile, and fail somewhat. "Hey. Uh, little tip for you. Chew THEN swallow."
Internally I groan. I can't believe I just said that. What the hell is WRONG with me?
That is quite rapidly becoming the question of the day. Anyone care to take a stab at it?
He blushes, and I think we all know how endearing he looks when he blushes. Especially when his ears twinge like that. Oh, and that smile I'm trying to battle? It's pushing on through relentlessly.
"Yea, thanks. NOW you tell me," he jokes, obviously trying to muster back up some sort of dignity.
I laugh. Dignity. Haha.
And that's when I remember.
OH SHIT! The bathing suit! I'm practically half dressed in front of Max Evans! Is there no end to the embarrassment to this day?
"So Max," Maria comes up behind us, laughter evident in her voice. "What do you think of Liz's new look?"
HATE her. I HATE her.
I shoot her my most evil, cower-inspiring death look. The one that says: You. Suck.
She smiles and goes to goad Max again.
Thankfully (I think), Michael was ambling over to grab some food, and heard Maria. He interrupts and stops and pauses to peruse me. I squirm a bit under his gaze and will him not to say anything about it.
After a minute, he shrugs. "What's different about it?"
Thank you Mickey. You are now my new best friend. I smile at the look on Maria's face and the way Michael's eyebrows shoot up in confusion.
"What?"
"I can't believe you don't notice anything about her! God, I swear, if a fridge came crashing down upon your head you wouldn't even blink. It's like that time last year when I got extensions. You didn't even [I]notice[/I]. You are like, the most dense guy I know."
"I can't believe you are still harping about that."
"It's the principle of the thing Michael!"
"What's Maria ranting about now?" Isabel pops another grape into her perfectly formed mouth.
"I didn't notice something about Liz."
"Oh. Carry on then."
Max opens his mouth to say something (yea, that, or to take another stab at conquering those damn grapes), when he's interrupted.
"Liz, I think you look MARVELOUS dahling. Tell me, WHO did your hair." This of course, is Alex, looping his arm around my shoulder, and yes, grinning.
I have to grin back at his tone. It's just so.ALEX.
He takes his arm off of me, get up, stretches and says, "I don't know about you guys, but I'm positively roasting." He shucks off his t-shirt and throws it after his towel onto the nearest chair.
Michael just looks at Alex in a skeptical manner. "Roasting? Who says that?"
"Watch it Guerin, or I shall be forced to comment on your lovely earlier performance. And it wont be pretty."
I can't help but think, so in other words, it would be like the act itself.
Michael scowls, yet shuts up. Teehee.
Alex shoots a musing glance and me, and then an evil grin cracks upon his face. "Hey, there's something that we're forgetting." When Michael proceeds to look just as confused as me, Alex nods at me. Swift comprehension dawns on Michael's features and suddenly I'm afraid. Very afraid.
Maria groans. "Come on guys. Leave her alone."
For once I'm forced to agree with Maria.
"It's tradition!" Alex protests.
"Yea," Michael confirms. "It's not officially summer unless we throw one of you girls in the pool."
I freeze. My entire body seizes up, and I cant even move my head. No.
They wouldn't. They CANT.
"And Liz, I think it's your turn." Alex laughs in a care free manner. He and Michael advance on me. My breathing comes quicker, harsher. Oh God. No.
"No," I protest weakly. "Don't."
Alex chuckles. "I love it when they beg. Remember when Maria near shattered the window, her shriek was so loud?"
Michael winced in memory, yet still came closer.
"Please!" I say louder now, my voice rising in panic as I dart a glance at the water, the atrocious, inundating water.
Alex and Michael are right next to me now, and I stupidly think that I probably should have gotten out of the way, ran to the house, latched onto the chair beside me, all of those I should have done like ten seconds ago.
Alex grabs my wrist but when Michael goes for my feet so they can swing me in, I kick out in terror. "NO!" My voice is a shriek, hysterical in my fear.
"Jesus!" Michael shouts, and Alex drags me nearer to the side of the pool. The water laps at the sides, threatening me, taunting me just like Patty all those years ago.My body's shaking, my hair fluttering against my bare back.
"What, were you trying to drag me in with you?" Michael laughs, and Alex joins in.
"In you go!"
I screw up my eyes and try and wrench my arm out of Alex, and now Michael's grasp. When it becomes apparent that the inevitable is about to occur, my heart stops and then picks up again with double the speed. Tears come unabiddened and the memories are threatening to smother me again. Oh God, here we go...
"Cut it out!"
Warm arms are enveloping me now, carrying me away from the water. My hysteria begins to fade, but my heart is still racing, my mind is still back on that day. Cold, wet, murky water filling my lungs again.I instantly suck in a huge lungful of air, just to reassure myself that it's not happening, that I'm safe, that I'm in Max Evans' arms.
Uhm.Wait a minute.
I look up and sure enough, there he is. His face is molded into one of irate fury, and the waves of anger coming off of him are enough to make even ME cringe, and I'm not even the one he's looking at. I follow his gaze, and there's Alex and Michael, looking quite confused.
"What's your problem Maxwell?" Michael asks dubiously, his eyebrow arched.
"Couldn't you see that she was scared of the water?"
I whip my head around to pierce him with a shocked gaze. How the hell did he know that?
Oh gee, I don't know. Could it possibly be because you started going berserk when Alex and Michael tried to throw you in?
The mere thought has me cringing again. Max notices apparently, from the quick look he darts at me, and he tightens his hold on my arms. Warmth glows in my stomach.
Pushing away all thought of the current sensations and pull of the awful memories of the past, I look again at Alex and Michael. Their faces meld into echoes of the horror I just felt.
"Oh God. Liz.I didn't know." Alex looks like he's about to be sick.
"Sorry," Michael grunts simply but his eyes shine with compunction.
I take a deep breath and attempt to smile feebly. "It's okay," I say. And it is. Its not their fault that I'm a fucking wuss.
"You can push me in if you want," Alex. Wonderful Alex always trying to lighten the situation. Too bad he wasn't there that day.
Tears burn in my eyes, and I blink forcefully. God, I definitely do not want to be reminded of this. Not here. Not now. Not ever again. Is there a reason I can never let bygones be bygones? It's been YEARS since that day. Shouldn't I have some sort of repressed memory as far as that goes? I mean, I am a psychiatrist's nightmare. Shouldn't that factor in somewhere?
After another five minutes of convincing Alex and Michael that indeed, I am somewhat okay, and that I'm not on the verge of hysteria anymore, they slink off to face the silent rage of Maria and Isabel over on the other side of the pool.
Yes, it would definitely suck to be them right now.
My heart rate returns to normal, and I silently berate myself for my act of lunacy in front of God and everyone just now. One more to add on the list of Reasons Why Liz Parker Is A Psycho.
All thoughts fly out of my head when suddenly the wayward strands of hair whispering on my face are brushed aside softly. I turn my head and come literally face to face with Max again.
"You had a." He gestures with his hands.
"A hair thing," I finish. How weird. Being on the same wavelength of someone.
For a moment we stand as such, just staring, despite the fact that its an age old rule that that is quite rude. His eyes.they seem to stare straight into my soul. Stripping away all the ugliness surrounding it, and peeling it back until I'm bared. And the funniest thing is that he's not running away screaming in the opposite direction. Nope, he just keeps on staring.
And I'm staring back.
Yep, this redundant repetition stuff is about to get real old.
Or not, since it's MAX.
What the hell is wrong with me? What's happening to me here?
All right, new train of thoughts. Something NOT Max centric.
So. How about them Mets?
Yea, lets not go there.
Hot today.
Oh, the hell with it.
Damn he's tall. Like a frickin behr.
His face inches a fraction closer, and I feel his warm breath intimately brush my face. My lashes lower almost instinctively and my heart begins to pound crazily in my chest.
"What are you thinking," he asks softly, almost as if fearing that if he spoke a decibel louder, the moment would be lost, ruined. Gone from our reach never to be had again.
Ah, here tis. The moment where I can dazzle him with my wit, impress him with my keen sense of dry humor.
"You're big," I say and promptly blush.
Oh God! Someone please tell me, what is WRONG with me?
[I]You're big.[/I]
He's looking at me all confused like and sort of amused. Well really, I can't blame him. I myself am wondering fervently where my brain went again.
Out of my mind. Be back in five minutes.
"Tall," I say, trying to fix the situation, even though its beyond salvageable. "I mean, you're tall." Lesson of the day? Never miss a good chance to shut up. Live it. Learn it. Memorize it. Write it on your notebook.
"Tall," he repeats, his beautiful eyes twinkling. "Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?"
Uhm.
"Good thing. Yes, definitely a good thing." I'm pretty sure my face is burning bright red right now, and it's not because of the sun beating down on us.
Kill me. Kill me right now. Quickly.
Ok, so five minutes is probably way too optimistic. My mind has most likely taken a lifelong vacation and I'm insanely jealous. Why does it get to jet off and I'm stuck here to deal with the consequences of its absence?
He laughs and moves so he's to the side of me, yet his arm stays around my shoulder.
On second thought.
Maybe being stuck here isn't as bad as I thought.
~*~Part TwelveB~*~ [I] You Strip Away The Ugliness That Surrounds Me [/I]
It's times like these that you really think about the lyrical, brilliant works of life. The words of wisdom from those revered people we all look up to.
Take Shel Silverstein for example. I seriously love that man. Besides being talented, he was damn smart. Consider his poem:
[I]Oh, if you're a bird, be an early bird And catch the worm for your breakfast plate. If you're a bird, be an early early bird - But if you're a worm, sleep late.[/I]
It's all perspective and identity. Others, being birds, get the payoff of such situations. Me, being the worm, got screwed.
It's also times like these that make you realize you should have listened to those wise wise people and taken their non too subtle advice.
God damn it, I should have slept late today. Or we could go one step better and I should have stayed in bed the entire day. Then maybe, just maybe I could have avoided this whole embarrassing situation.
Okay, okay, so there is no 'situation' as of yet, since I'm still on the stairs, frozen like a statue, biting my lip and debating whether or not I should really go out there. Especially like [I]this[/I].
My debate is cut short when Maria comes up behind me. [I]Quietly[/I]
"Hey Liz."
I jump in a skitterish manner and a shrill scream escapes from my throat. "God Maria!" I yell loudly as I whirl around, clutching my thumping heart.
Has NO one told her its not nice, and potentially psychologically damaging to sneak up on someone who is deep in thought?
"Uhm, yeah?" Her eyebrows are raised in a way that says "And your point is?"
Apparently not.
I simply sigh and turn my attention back to the bottom of the stairs, and the crucial decision at hand. "Never mind."
Michael comes screeching over, rounding the corner and practically tripping over himself (and the stairs) in his rush. "What happened?" He demands in a steely voice, one underlined with panic.
I just look at him. You know, one of those looks that says "Whoa there, where's the fire?"
"What?"
He shoves his hands through his unruly brown hair in exasperation. Ah, so THAT'S why it looks so messy all the time. "I heard someone scream."
Maria's face softens and she maneuvers by me to clutch his arm. "I just scared Liz a little when I came up behind her. That's all."
His face drains of tension and is molded into one of comprehension. He nods, and says, "Oh."
Weird.
My mind is about to question this odd little display some more, but Maria distracts me in saying cheerfully, "So Parker, you ready to go show em what you're made of?"
Uhm.
My heart leaps up to load in my throat. It literally feels like I am heaving up my own heart, only not so gross. Unmistakable panic grips my stomach and I quite want to be somewhere else right now. Somewhere else, and oh yea, in different attire too. I am not forgiving Maria for a very long time. Or Isabel for that matter. Just when I thought these people might possibly be something resembling friends. Oh sure, you may say that they're only looking out for what's BEST for me but.
Enough mind babbling.
Anyways, as I was saying before I so rudely interrupted myself.
Scared. That's what I am. Me? Ready to go out like THIS?
Not quite.
"Great!"
Per usual, Maria is not on my same wavelength. She grabs my arm, and leads me to the door leading to the backyard. I can see Max and Isabel talking and eating grapes through the glass, and Alex is coming up from the front yard, orange polka dot towel in hand.
Take me back! Beam me up Scottie! I'm CAN'T go out there. No. No. No.
.
Scottie?
.
At least beam me down my clothes.
.
Fine abandon me. No wonder your show died a premature death.
It's too late anyways. The door swings open and Maria lugs me through, Michael trailing behind. I blink against the bright, lovely sunlight and the first thing I see is.
Water. Blue, swirling, malevolent looking water.
My mouth dries, and I'm forced to swallow. Look away. Must look away. I catch of glimpse of Max and Isabel out of the corner of my eye, and decide that that would be a much better viewing than the nightmare in front of me. My heart skips a beat when Max turns around and sees me, and I have to wonder if I'm having a post-traumatic reaction here or.
Or if it's something else.
Before I can contemplate that bizarre occurrence, Max's eyes widen, so I turn around to see what's got him reacting in such a way. And then, I kid you not, he starts choking. CHOKING. Hacking and hawing like he's about to die.
Immediately I rush over. "Max?" And then, like the brilliant person I am, "Are you okay?" God, I really have to wonder sometimes what is wrong with me. Of COURSE he's not okay. There's a grape lodged in his windpipe. But we all know that I must state the obvious. It's like an unspoken, all around fact.
I glance over at Max's caring sister, and to my surprise, she's smirking. I knew she wasn't the most compassionate person around, but really, to just stand back and watch your brother have a choking fit? Isn't that just a tad extreme?
Since no one else seems to care, or know what's going on with Max, I decide to help out a bit. Tentatively, I raise my hand up and rub his back slowly. His body jerks, almost like an electrical current jolted him. I snatch my hands away, wondering "Now what?"
He stops choking and locks his gaze with mine.
Oh perfect. Now he's not breathing.
With one last cough, he seems to recover. Well, thank God anyways. I hate not knowing what to do, standing there like a moron.
"Uhm.Hey." He says.
I have to fight a smile, and fail somewhat. "Hey. Uh, little tip for you. Chew THEN swallow."
Internally I groan. I can't believe I just said that. What the hell is WRONG with me?
That is quite rapidly becoming the question of the day. Anyone care to take a stab at it?
He blushes, and I think we all know how endearing he looks when he blushes. Especially when his ears twinge like that. Oh, and that smile I'm trying to battle? It's pushing on through relentlessly.
"Yea, thanks. NOW you tell me," he jokes, obviously trying to muster back up some sort of dignity.
I laugh. Dignity. Haha.
And that's when I remember.
OH SHIT! The bathing suit! I'm practically half dressed in front of Max Evans! Is there no end to the embarrassment to this day?
"So Max," Maria comes up behind us, laughter evident in her voice. "What do you think of Liz's new look?"
HATE her. I HATE her.
I shoot her my most evil, cower-inspiring death look. The one that says: You. Suck.
She smiles and goes to goad Max again.
Thankfully (I think), Michael was ambling over to grab some food, and heard Maria. He interrupts and stops and pauses to peruse me. I squirm a bit under his gaze and will him not to say anything about it.
After a minute, he shrugs. "What's different about it?"
Thank you Mickey. You are now my new best friend. I smile at the look on Maria's face and the way Michael's eyebrows shoot up in confusion.
"What?"
"I can't believe you don't notice anything about her! God, I swear, if a fridge came crashing down upon your head you wouldn't even blink. It's like that time last year when I got extensions. You didn't even [I]notice[/I]. You are like, the most dense guy I know."
"I can't believe you are still harping about that."
"It's the principle of the thing Michael!"
"What's Maria ranting about now?" Isabel pops another grape into her perfectly formed mouth.
"I didn't notice something about Liz."
"Oh. Carry on then."
Max opens his mouth to say something (yea, that, or to take another stab at conquering those damn grapes), when he's interrupted.
"Liz, I think you look MARVELOUS dahling. Tell me, WHO did your hair." This of course, is Alex, looping his arm around my shoulder, and yes, grinning.
I have to grin back at his tone. It's just so.ALEX.
He takes his arm off of me, get up, stretches and says, "I don't know about you guys, but I'm positively roasting." He shucks off his t-shirt and throws it after his towel onto the nearest chair.
Michael just looks at Alex in a skeptical manner. "Roasting? Who says that?"
"Watch it Guerin, or I shall be forced to comment on your lovely earlier performance. And it wont be pretty."
I can't help but think, so in other words, it would be like the act itself.
Michael scowls, yet shuts up. Teehee.
Alex shoots a musing glance and me, and then an evil grin cracks upon his face. "Hey, there's something that we're forgetting." When Michael proceeds to look just as confused as me, Alex nods at me. Swift comprehension dawns on Michael's features and suddenly I'm afraid. Very afraid.
Maria groans. "Come on guys. Leave her alone."
For once I'm forced to agree with Maria.
"It's tradition!" Alex protests.
"Yea," Michael confirms. "It's not officially summer unless we throw one of you girls in the pool."
I freeze. My entire body seizes up, and I cant even move my head. No.
They wouldn't. They CANT.
"And Liz, I think it's your turn." Alex laughs in a care free manner. He and Michael advance on me. My breathing comes quicker, harsher. Oh God. No.
"No," I protest weakly. "Don't."
Alex chuckles. "I love it when they beg. Remember when Maria near shattered the window, her shriek was so loud?"
Michael winced in memory, yet still came closer.
"Please!" I say louder now, my voice rising in panic as I dart a glance at the water, the atrocious, inundating water.
Alex and Michael are right next to me now, and I stupidly think that I probably should have gotten out of the way, ran to the house, latched onto the chair beside me, all of those I should have done like ten seconds ago.
Alex grabs my wrist but when Michael goes for my feet so they can swing me in, I kick out in terror. "NO!" My voice is a shriek, hysterical in my fear.
"Jesus!" Michael shouts, and Alex drags me nearer to the side of the pool. The water laps at the sides, threatening me, taunting me just like Patty all those years ago.My body's shaking, my hair fluttering against my bare back.
"What, were you trying to drag me in with you?" Michael laughs, and Alex joins in.
"In you go!"
I screw up my eyes and try and wrench my arm out of Alex, and now Michael's grasp. When it becomes apparent that the inevitable is about to occur, my heart stops and then picks up again with double the speed. Tears come unabiddened and the memories are threatening to smother me again. Oh God, here we go...
"Cut it out!"
Warm arms are enveloping me now, carrying me away from the water. My hysteria begins to fade, but my heart is still racing, my mind is still back on that day. Cold, wet, murky water filling my lungs again.I instantly suck in a huge lungful of air, just to reassure myself that it's not happening, that I'm safe, that I'm in Max Evans' arms.
Uhm.Wait a minute.
I look up and sure enough, there he is. His face is molded into one of irate fury, and the waves of anger coming off of him are enough to make even ME cringe, and I'm not even the one he's looking at. I follow his gaze, and there's Alex and Michael, looking quite confused.
"What's your problem Maxwell?" Michael asks dubiously, his eyebrow arched.
"Couldn't you see that she was scared of the water?"
I whip my head around to pierce him with a shocked gaze. How the hell did he know that?
Oh gee, I don't know. Could it possibly be because you started going berserk when Alex and Michael tried to throw you in?
The mere thought has me cringing again. Max notices apparently, from the quick look he darts at me, and he tightens his hold on my arms. Warmth glows in my stomach.
Pushing away all thought of the current sensations and pull of the awful memories of the past, I look again at Alex and Michael. Their faces meld into echoes of the horror I just felt.
"Oh God. Liz.I didn't know." Alex looks like he's about to be sick.
"Sorry," Michael grunts simply but his eyes shine with compunction.
I take a deep breath and attempt to smile feebly. "It's okay," I say. And it is. Its not their fault that I'm a fucking wuss.
"You can push me in if you want," Alex. Wonderful Alex always trying to lighten the situation. Too bad he wasn't there that day.
Tears burn in my eyes, and I blink forcefully. God, I definitely do not want to be reminded of this. Not here. Not now. Not ever again. Is there a reason I can never let bygones be bygones? It's been YEARS since that day. Shouldn't I have some sort of repressed memory as far as that goes? I mean, I am a psychiatrist's nightmare. Shouldn't that factor in somewhere?
After another five minutes of convincing Alex and Michael that indeed, I am somewhat okay, and that I'm not on the verge of hysteria anymore, they slink off to face the silent rage of Maria and Isabel over on the other side of the pool.
Yes, it would definitely suck to be them right now.
My heart rate returns to normal, and I silently berate myself for my act of lunacy in front of God and everyone just now. One more to add on the list of Reasons Why Liz Parker Is A Psycho.
All thoughts fly out of my head when suddenly the wayward strands of hair whispering on my face are brushed aside softly. I turn my head and come literally face to face with Max again.
"You had a." He gestures with his hands.
"A hair thing," I finish. How weird. Being on the same wavelength of someone.
For a moment we stand as such, just staring, despite the fact that its an age old rule that that is quite rude. His eyes.they seem to stare straight into my soul. Stripping away all the ugliness surrounding it, and peeling it back until I'm bared. And the funniest thing is that he's not running away screaming in the opposite direction. Nope, he just keeps on staring.
And I'm staring back.
Yep, this redundant repetition stuff is about to get real old.
Or not, since it's MAX.
What the hell is wrong with me? What's happening to me here?
All right, new train of thoughts. Something NOT Max centric.
So. How about them Mets?
Yea, lets not go there.
Hot today.
Oh, the hell with it.
Damn he's tall. Like a frickin behr.
His face inches a fraction closer, and I feel his warm breath intimately brush my face. My lashes lower almost instinctively and my heart begins to pound crazily in my chest.
"What are you thinking," he asks softly, almost as if fearing that if he spoke a decibel louder, the moment would be lost, ruined. Gone from our reach never to be had again.
Ah, here tis. The moment where I can dazzle him with my wit, impress him with my keen sense of dry humor.
"You're big," I say and promptly blush.
Oh God! Someone please tell me, what is WRONG with me?
[I]You're big.[/I]
He's looking at me all confused like and sort of amused. Well really, I can't blame him. I myself am wondering fervently where my brain went again.
Out of my mind. Be back in five minutes.
"Tall," I say, trying to fix the situation, even though its beyond salvageable. "I mean, you're tall." Lesson of the day? Never miss a good chance to shut up. Live it. Learn it. Memorize it. Write it on your notebook.
"Tall," he repeats, his beautiful eyes twinkling. "Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?"
Uhm.
"Good thing. Yes, definitely a good thing." I'm pretty sure my face is burning bright red right now, and it's not because of the sun beating down on us.
Kill me. Kill me right now. Quickly.
Ok, so five minutes is probably way too optimistic. My mind has most likely taken a lifelong vacation and I'm insanely jealous. Why does it get to jet off and I'm stuck here to deal with the consequences of its absence?
He laughs and moves so he's to the side of me, yet his arm stays around my shoulder.
On second thought.
Maybe being stuck here isn't as bad as I thought.