Part Three
Stalking is a crime, a crime of which I'm guilty.
But it would take someone of my own kind to catch me. I'm an expert at this, at not being seen. I don't mean that I have Tess's ability to make myself seem to disappear. I mean that I have honed my skills of stealth; I can avoid being seen if I want to.
So I spend a considerable about of time avoiding being seen and stalking Liz Parker. I follow her to work, to her house on Roswell's west side, to the Crashdown where she gives her parents a break on Wednesdays, to a restaurant where she meets people I've never seen before.
Sometimes Michael comes with me. I know he doesn't think what I'm doing is right, that I should have given Liz up long ago and that I should definitely not be stalking her. But he never puts voice to those thoughts. He just watches and waits with me, a true brother in arms. Sometimes I think he's just bored and has nothing better to do; other times I think he misses the thrill of the hunt. Once the challenge of capturing your prey is met, what do you do with your time?
I watch all of Liz's new acquaintances carefully - I learned long ago to spot the enemy from pretty far distances. Beings that once seemed very human to me are now revealed to be more than that with only a second glance. Sometimes it's a slight hitch in their walk that gives them away, or an odd phrase that shows they aren't comfortable with the language of this planet. I've learned all of the telltale signs, no intruder can make it past me. And even if they did, they wouldn't get past Michael.
But, none of Liz's friends seem to be alien. That makes me both happy and sad. Happy because she is safe, sad because I can't go riding in on a white horse and save her.
"Mike" the dentist also lives on the west side, in a bigger, nicer home than Liz's. I have to wonder why she didn't sell her house and move in with him throughout the engagement. An evil little piece of me wants to believe that she is resisting her new life and her new husband, that she was staying in her home as an invitation to me to come back.
After a week of following her, I can tell that my arrogant assumption is false. She's happy. She seems to enjoy her friends and the things they do together. With a pang, I realize that she seems happier with them than she ever did with me and my friends.
One night she goes out with Maria. No big deal - just dinner and drinks at The Eiffel Tower restaurant. Of course, I park across the street, sans Michael, and watch them through the window.
I remember seeing Liz for the first time in third grade, playing with Maria in the school yard as I stepped off the bus. They were always so close, like sisters, giggling and playing the games little girls play. Throughout all of the alien madness, they had one another to turn to, to cling to when things got rough. I always envied their relationship. Not that I was alone in the world because I had Michael and Iz, but I felt like we were pushed together out of necessity; Liz and Maria chose one another.
But things are different now. I can see it in their actions. Sure, they laugh and hug each other in greeting. But something is gone. I'm not really sure what it is. The time they spend together is shorter - something that should be expected considering Liz's life is full of wedding plans - but it's something else. As I watch the two women who've known each other for so long talk over cocktails, it strikes me that they've drifted apart. And that's something I never expected to happen.
Then again, I never expected Liz to marry someone other than me, either.
Dinner concludes and I watch them walk out to the street, the ground wet from a passing storm. They chat for a few moments, then Liz walks to her car and gets behind the wheel. Maria watches as she pulls away, then turns to look directly at me.
Must be a coincidence. There's no way she's spotted me.
But now she starts to walk towards me. Another coincidence? Maybe her car is parked over here in this dark alley?
She walks across the street, her slim legs taking long strides in her unbelievably high heels. She paints quite the picture - the heels, the incredibly shapely legs revealed beneath a scandalously short skirt, the gentle waving of her long hair in the night breeze. And she hasn't quite lost eye contact with me. Which leads me to believe she knows exactly where I am. Dammit.
She stops beside the Explorer and raps her knuckles on the window. I press the button and the glass slides down obediently.
"What are you doing?" she asks. She smells sweet - a combination of her perfume and the wine she drank with dinner.
I shrug. "Nothing." Lame, Maxwell, really lame.
"Stalking?" she offers.
I laugh nervously. "No. What would give you that idea?"
Maria glances at our surroundings. "I don't know, really. Something to do with the dark SUV, a dark alley, no parking lights and the really obvious black baseball cap you're wearing?" She says it with a smirk, her tongue practically implanted in her cheek.
I glance in the rearview mirror. "My hat is obvious?" I ask, checking out my reflection, making a joke of the fact she has nabbed me without admitting she's nabbed me.
When I look back to the window, she is gone. Surprised, I look out the windshield to find her rounding the Explorer. She pops open the passenger side door and climbs into the SUV.
"Can I have a ride?" she asks after having already claimed her seat.
But I can't help smiling at her. She's the most honest, take-me-as-I-am person I know. I start the Explorer, flip on the headlights and pull onto the street.
"Where do you live?" I ask, realizing I don't know.
"Above my shop," she says, crossing those legs. I can't help a sideways glance at her and I have to wonder how that skirt is covering her ass, especially with her legs crossed.
"How was dinner?" I ask, reluctantly turning my gaze back to the road.
"You should know," she retorts. "You watched the whole thing."
My ears suddenly burn with embarrassment. "How did you know I was there?"
She shrugs, her gaze drifting out the side window. "I just knew."
Odd statement, to say the least. I glance at her - she's still watching the scenery go by. "Did Liz know?"
She looks back to me, her eyes a little red from her cocktails, although I don't believe she's drunk. "She didn't mention it."
I continue driving, wondering if Liz would mention to Maria that I was stalking her if she knew.
Almost on cue, Maria lets out a sigh. "I mean, she hasn't told me about all of the other times."
The ears are now on fire. And my neck. Nabbed. "How did you know about 'all of the other times'?"
Another shrug. "Michael told me."
Interesting.
I pull to a stop before her shop but don't put the car in park or turn it off.
"Do you want to come up?" she asks, her hand on the door handle.
I shake my head. "No. It's been a long day." That's a lie and I can't look at her when I say it, which is odd because I've gotten pretty good at lying to most peoples' faces. But for some reason not Maria's.
"Okay. Thanks for the ride."
She climbs out and I hold vigil until she opens the shop door with her key and is safely inside.
Then I drive around Roswell for what seems like an eternity, just visiting our old haunts, places that were special to me and Liz. The old soap factory, where we had our first official date, where I almost kissed her for the first time. Senor Chow's, now closed and abandoned, where we had our first dance and she kicked my ass playing pool. The Crashdown. The UFO Center. West Roswell High. And it sinks in to me how important Liz has been in my life.
I'm tired of haunting her, always hanging inconspicuously one step behind her. I need to confront her, if only to put myself out of my misery.
I'm at her doorstep before I can stop myself. The only encouragement my hand needs to knock is the one light that is on near the back of the house. As soon as I feel the wood beneath my knuckles, I regret it. But I can't run from her. I need to know.
When she opens the door, she is wearing a bathrobe, her shorter hair pulled into a ponytail. And she doesn't look happy.
Sighing, she asks tiredly, "What are you doing here, Max?"
I try to smile and can't. I'm almost afraid to speak for fear opening my mouth will lead to vomiting. "I said I'd like to talk to you some time."
"Now?" Her dark eyebrows rise in an expression of disbelief.
I simply nod.
She's motionless for a moment, then she sets her jaw and shakes her head. But she moves out of the way and allows me to enter her home. I scan it instantly, first looking for threats to my existence, then just to absorb everything that is home to Liz. I hear the door click quietly closed behind me and I turn to address her. I'd forgotten how short she is without shoes on. She's tiny, like a doll.
"What do you want to talk about?" she asks warily.
I shrug. "Nothing in particular. Um, how are you?"
"How am I?" She lets out a snort and shakes her head. "You're unbelievable, Max."
Her tone is harsh, not something I'd expected. I'm getting all kinds of surprises this night. "What do you mean?"
"You just waltz back in here after being gone - how many years?"
I just watch her as she waves her arm demonstratively, trying to come up with the number.
"How many?" she demands.
"Seven," I confirm quietly.
"Seven years. You come back after seven years and act like it's only been a few days? I asked you to leave me to my life four years ago, Max. Why are you back now?"
I don't know how to make her understand why I had to go, why I had to be away for so long, especially when she's upset and wants the Cliff Notes version. "I didn't have a choice -" I begin.
"No choice, Max? No choice?" She angrily pushes a lose strand of hair behind her ear.
I shake my head. I'm not backing down on this one. "No, I didn't. There were people - things out there who wanted -"
"Yeah, I know. There were evil aliens out there who wanted the king dead. I've heard it all before, Max."
I think perhaps in the entire time Liz and I were together she raised her voice to me maybe twice. Now her voice is loud, her tone mocking. I don't know this person standing angrily before me and it stuns me into silence.
"It was always something. An evil ex-wife here, a kidnapping shape-shifter there, some skin-shedding extra-terrestrial infiltrating the ranks." She grabs her head in her hands and when she speaks again, her voice is weary. "God, Max, I got so tired of that."
"That's all over," I reassure her, reaching for one of her arms.
She jerks away. "I don't care. I want a normal life and life with you would never be normal."
Ouch.
I think I see tears in her beautiful eyes as she slowly shakes her head. "Why did you have to come back now?" she asks quietly. "I'm happy. I love Mike."
Forget ouch. I'm numb now.
She looks away for a moment and when she meets my eyes again, the tears are gone. "Why did you have to come back at all?"
Someone just planted their foot right in the center of my chest because I can't breathe. She's not kidding - she really wishes I'd never returned. For all I know, 'never returned' might entail the death of this king. I believe she truly hates me.
"Please leave me to my life," she pleads. "I have everything I want. And that doesn't include you." Her words aren't bitter, just painfully truthful.
I can feel my knees start to shake, the tremor working its way up my body. I look down into her eyes and I know she's serious. It's taken awhile for me to get the message, but now I see it loud and clear.
Without another word, I brush past her and leave her quaint little house on Roswell's west side. I know I'll never be there again.
Stalking is a crime, a crime of which I'm guilty.
But it would take someone of my own kind to catch me. I'm an expert at this, at not being seen. I don't mean that I have Tess's ability to make myself seem to disappear. I mean that I have honed my skills of stealth; I can avoid being seen if I want to.
So I spend a considerable about of time avoiding being seen and stalking Liz Parker. I follow her to work, to her house on Roswell's west side, to the Crashdown where she gives her parents a break on Wednesdays, to a restaurant where she meets people I've never seen before.
Sometimes Michael comes with me. I know he doesn't think what I'm doing is right, that I should have given Liz up long ago and that I should definitely not be stalking her. But he never puts voice to those thoughts. He just watches and waits with me, a true brother in arms. Sometimes I think he's just bored and has nothing better to do; other times I think he misses the thrill of the hunt. Once the challenge of capturing your prey is met, what do you do with your time?
I watch all of Liz's new acquaintances carefully - I learned long ago to spot the enemy from pretty far distances. Beings that once seemed very human to me are now revealed to be more than that with only a second glance. Sometimes it's a slight hitch in their walk that gives them away, or an odd phrase that shows they aren't comfortable with the language of this planet. I've learned all of the telltale signs, no intruder can make it past me. And even if they did, they wouldn't get past Michael.
But, none of Liz's friends seem to be alien. That makes me both happy and sad. Happy because she is safe, sad because I can't go riding in on a white horse and save her.
"Mike" the dentist also lives on the west side, in a bigger, nicer home than Liz's. I have to wonder why she didn't sell her house and move in with him throughout the engagement. An evil little piece of me wants to believe that she is resisting her new life and her new husband, that she was staying in her home as an invitation to me to come back.
After a week of following her, I can tell that my arrogant assumption is false. She's happy. She seems to enjoy her friends and the things they do together. With a pang, I realize that she seems happier with them than she ever did with me and my friends.
One night she goes out with Maria. No big deal - just dinner and drinks at The Eiffel Tower restaurant. Of course, I park across the street, sans Michael, and watch them through the window.
I remember seeing Liz for the first time in third grade, playing with Maria in the school yard as I stepped off the bus. They were always so close, like sisters, giggling and playing the games little girls play. Throughout all of the alien madness, they had one another to turn to, to cling to when things got rough. I always envied their relationship. Not that I was alone in the world because I had Michael and Iz, but I felt like we were pushed together out of necessity; Liz and Maria chose one another.
But things are different now. I can see it in their actions. Sure, they laugh and hug each other in greeting. But something is gone. I'm not really sure what it is. The time they spend together is shorter - something that should be expected considering Liz's life is full of wedding plans - but it's something else. As I watch the two women who've known each other for so long talk over cocktails, it strikes me that they've drifted apart. And that's something I never expected to happen.
Then again, I never expected Liz to marry someone other than me, either.
Dinner concludes and I watch them walk out to the street, the ground wet from a passing storm. They chat for a few moments, then Liz walks to her car and gets behind the wheel. Maria watches as she pulls away, then turns to look directly at me.
Must be a coincidence. There's no way she's spotted me.
But now she starts to walk towards me. Another coincidence? Maybe her car is parked over here in this dark alley?
She walks across the street, her slim legs taking long strides in her unbelievably high heels. She paints quite the picture - the heels, the incredibly shapely legs revealed beneath a scandalously short skirt, the gentle waving of her long hair in the night breeze. And she hasn't quite lost eye contact with me. Which leads me to believe she knows exactly where I am. Dammit.
She stops beside the Explorer and raps her knuckles on the window. I press the button and the glass slides down obediently.
"What are you doing?" she asks. She smells sweet - a combination of her perfume and the wine she drank with dinner.
I shrug. "Nothing." Lame, Maxwell, really lame.
"Stalking?" she offers.
I laugh nervously. "No. What would give you that idea?"
Maria glances at our surroundings. "I don't know, really. Something to do with the dark SUV, a dark alley, no parking lights and the really obvious black baseball cap you're wearing?" She says it with a smirk, her tongue practically implanted in her cheek.
I glance in the rearview mirror. "My hat is obvious?" I ask, checking out my reflection, making a joke of the fact she has nabbed me without admitting she's nabbed me.
When I look back to the window, she is gone. Surprised, I look out the windshield to find her rounding the Explorer. She pops open the passenger side door and climbs into the SUV.
"Can I have a ride?" she asks after having already claimed her seat.
But I can't help smiling at her. She's the most honest, take-me-as-I-am person I know. I start the Explorer, flip on the headlights and pull onto the street.
"Where do you live?" I ask, realizing I don't know.
"Above my shop," she says, crossing those legs. I can't help a sideways glance at her and I have to wonder how that skirt is covering her ass, especially with her legs crossed.
"How was dinner?" I ask, reluctantly turning my gaze back to the road.
"You should know," she retorts. "You watched the whole thing."
My ears suddenly burn with embarrassment. "How did you know I was there?"
She shrugs, her gaze drifting out the side window. "I just knew."
Odd statement, to say the least. I glance at her - she's still watching the scenery go by. "Did Liz know?"
She looks back to me, her eyes a little red from her cocktails, although I don't believe she's drunk. "She didn't mention it."
I continue driving, wondering if Liz would mention to Maria that I was stalking her if she knew.
Almost on cue, Maria lets out a sigh. "I mean, she hasn't told me about all of the other times."
The ears are now on fire. And my neck. Nabbed. "How did you know about 'all of the other times'?"
Another shrug. "Michael told me."
Interesting.
I pull to a stop before her shop but don't put the car in park or turn it off.
"Do you want to come up?" she asks, her hand on the door handle.
I shake my head. "No. It's been a long day." That's a lie and I can't look at her when I say it, which is odd because I've gotten pretty good at lying to most peoples' faces. But for some reason not Maria's.
"Okay. Thanks for the ride."
She climbs out and I hold vigil until she opens the shop door with her key and is safely inside.
Then I drive around Roswell for what seems like an eternity, just visiting our old haunts, places that were special to me and Liz. The old soap factory, where we had our first official date, where I almost kissed her for the first time. Senor Chow's, now closed and abandoned, where we had our first dance and she kicked my ass playing pool. The Crashdown. The UFO Center. West Roswell High. And it sinks in to me how important Liz has been in my life.
I'm tired of haunting her, always hanging inconspicuously one step behind her. I need to confront her, if only to put myself out of my misery.
I'm at her doorstep before I can stop myself. The only encouragement my hand needs to knock is the one light that is on near the back of the house. As soon as I feel the wood beneath my knuckles, I regret it. But I can't run from her. I need to know.
When she opens the door, she is wearing a bathrobe, her shorter hair pulled into a ponytail. And she doesn't look happy.
Sighing, she asks tiredly, "What are you doing here, Max?"
I try to smile and can't. I'm almost afraid to speak for fear opening my mouth will lead to vomiting. "I said I'd like to talk to you some time."
"Now?" Her dark eyebrows rise in an expression of disbelief.
I simply nod.
She's motionless for a moment, then she sets her jaw and shakes her head. But she moves out of the way and allows me to enter her home. I scan it instantly, first looking for threats to my existence, then just to absorb everything that is home to Liz. I hear the door click quietly closed behind me and I turn to address her. I'd forgotten how short she is without shoes on. She's tiny, like a doll.
"What do you want to talk about?" she asks warily.
I shrug. "Nothing in particular. Um, how are you?"
"How am I?" She lets out a snort and shakes her head. "You're unbelievable, Max."
Her tone is harsh, not something I'd expected. I'm getting all kinds of surprises this night. "What do you mean?"
"You just waltz back in here after being gone - how many years?"
I just watch her as she waves her arm demonstratively, trying to come up with the number.
"How many?" she demands.
"Seven," I confirm quietly.
"Seven years. You come back after seven years and act like it's only been a few days? I asked you to leave me to my life four years ago, Max. Why are you back now?"
I don't know how to make her understand why I had to go, why I had to be away for so long, especially when she's upset and wants the Cliff Notes version. "I didn't have a choice -" I begin.
"No choice, Max? No choice?" She angrily pushes a lose strand of hair behind her ear.
I shake my head. I'm not backing down on this one. "No, I didn't. There were people - things out there who wanted -"
"Yeah, I know. There were evil aliens out there who wanted the king dead. I've heard it all before, Max."
I think perhaps in the entire time Liz and I were together she raised her voice to me maybe twice. Now her voice is loud, her tone mocking. I don't know this person standing angrily before me and it stuns me into silence.
"It was always something. An evil ex-wife here, a kidnapping shape-shifter there, some skin-shedding extra-terrestrial infiltrating the ranks." She grabs her head in her hands and when she speaks again, her voice is weary. "God, Max, I got so tired of that."
"That's all over," I reassure her, reaching for one of her arms.
She jerks away. "I don't care. I want a normal life and life with you would never be normal."
Ouch.
I think I see tears in her beautiful eyes as she slowly shakes her head. "Why did you have to come back now?" she asks quietly. "I'm happy. I love Mike."
Forget ouch. I'm numb now.
She looks away for a moment and when she meets my eyes again, the tears are gone. "Why did you have to come back at all?"
Someone just planted their foot right in the center of my chest because I can't breathe. She's not kidding - she really wishes I'd never returned. For all I know, 'never returned' might entail the death of this king. I believe she truly hates me.
"Please leave me to my life," she pleads. "I have everything I want. And that doesn't include you." Her words aren't bitter, just painfully truthful.
I can feel my knees start to shake, the tremor working its way up my body. I look down into her eyes and I know she's serious. It's taken awhile for me to get the message, but now I see it loud and clear.
Without another word, I brush past her and leave her quaint little house on Roswell's west side. I know I'll never be there again.