Quick A/N: First of all, thank you all SO much for all of the AMAZING
feedback. It's great. Second, this part is pretty long (10-ish pages) to
make up for the time that the next part is going to take me. It definitely
won't be out before Christmas, probably later. I only get out of school...
sheesh, on the 19th, and my sister's birthday is the 22nd. I may be able
to get something done on Christmas if I remember to bring a disk to my
uncle's house. (He's a computer freak, and it would get me away from my
family, but there's also a good chance someone would try to read it, so...
I don't know yet. Pros and Cons. I'll decide soon.) Anyway, hope you like
the part, and I'll try to make the next part long too, but... well, here's
to hoping. So R&R and I love you guys for all the great feedback. Okay,
I'm shutting up now.
Tina
~~~~~
Part Five
Max POV
~~~~~
I climbed into my car after the incident with Michael and Isabel, not
really caring that my father was out back barbequing for my welcome home
party, or that my mother was in the kitchen making everything that was not
barbeque-able. I just wanted to get out. Liz was turning my life upside
down once again, but this time she wasn't there to help me set it straight
again.
I didn't really know where I was going until the still bright neon lights
came into view. It was amazing to me how popular the restaurant still was.
All of the teenagers spent hours after school there, and a whole new set
of high school girls had taken over Liz and Maria's retired uniforms.
Sometimes I liked to go in, just to let myself pretend that I was just
another one of the high schoolers. So much of my time was spent pretending
that I was sixteen again. It was ironic. When I was sixteen, I wished I
was anyone else. Now I realize that that was probably the happiest I've
ever been in my life. My biggest secret had been shared with total
strangers, the FBI was chasing me, and I was placed in a spotlight that I
had spent my life avoiding, but I was happy. She was with me.
"Hi Max," Mrs. Parker said as I found myself at the counter. She was
sitting behind it, working the register. I had managed to come on the one
night that she had to come down and work through each night because they
were still short one hand. one hand that I had just found. "I thought you
were in Portland."
"I came back early," I told her. "I wanted to see my family again before
school started."
"So what are you doing here?"
"Actually, I wanted to talk to you and Jeff." In the years since Liz had
left, I had actually gotten to know her parents pretty better than in all
the years that I nearly lived in their diner. I was constantly in the
restaurant after Liz left, as usual, trying to force myself to forget. I
would sit in Maria's section and just pretend that Liz was on break, or
that she was upstairs getting ready to come down. After the first few
months and the countless Will Smith burgers and Men in Black Berry Pie, it
got pretty hard for them to not notice me.
"Just go on in back then, Max. I'll get one of the girls to watch the
register." She smiled at me and I walked back through the all too familiar
employee doors. It was like a portal to a different time behind those
doors. The same old, tattered, 70's style couch sat against the back wall
next to the same faded wooden door that I dropped Liz off at after every-
planned-date we had. The same pale orange lockers sat against the opposite
wall, covered in stickers for bands and concerts that were generations old.
The same brown tile even covered the floor, fading into carpet as it hit
the stairs that led to a world that I had once been innately involved in.
Nancy came in then, letting the door swing softly behind her. She brushed
a strand of graying red hair behind her ear. "Even behind the counter,
that job takes something out of you." I smiled at her. "I'll go and get
Jeff." With a smile she walked up the old staircase, trying to hold the
arthritis that was slowly claiming her aging joints. She aged faster than
she should have, and it was starting to show.
I sat myself on the tattered old couch, unsure of why I had come. I
couldn't tell them where Liz was. Part of me knew that she would come back
when she was ready. Part of me knew that if she didn't, Maria would bring
her kicking and screaming. Really though, that wasn't why I wanted to keep
Liz's location to myself. Part of me knew that she had run from us, that
she didn't want us back. Part of me still blamed myself for her leaving.
Part of me didn't want to give her another reason to run.
Another part of me wanted to throw her over my shoulder and carry her back
myself. That was the part male chauvinistic part that Maria had been
trying to tame with our friendship. Had she known, she probably would have
wished she wouldn't have worked so hard on that.
"Hi Max," Jeff said, appearing on the stairs with Nancy close behind him.
"Hi Mr. Parker," I answered, uncomfortable calling him by his first name,
even after the many times he had insisted I should. No matter how long I
knew him for, he would always be Liz's father, and my mother would be proud
to know that I had learned that that meant that he deserved respect. I
shifted myself further towards the arm of the chair as the couple sat
beside me.
Jeff smiled. "How many times do I have to tell you to call me Jeff?" His
tone was light, but there was a burden that always pulled on him,
especially when he saw me. That was what I hated about the friendship I
had established with them. I knew that every time they saw me they thought
of Liz, and I knew that it kept them at least one step further from ever
moving on. Again, I wondered what I was going to say to them. "What did
you want to talk to us about?"
"Well," I said, suddenly uncomfortable. I wasn't going to taunt them with
the information that I had. I just wanted them to know that she was safe.
I wanted them to be able to move on, to stop wondering. "It's actually
about Liz."
The looked up, instantly enthralled by whatever I had to say. I had to
feel bad for them. When Liz left, they had been broken. They had everyone
looking for her-the police, friends, family-but slowly the searching
dulled, and people began to give up. The police took her off the runaway
list when she turned 18, simply sending her parents a note that said that
since she was legal they wouldn't spend any more money looking for her. in
much kinder words of course. That was really where it all ended for them.
That was when they broke, and they gave up on finding her. That was when
they really admitted that she was gone.
"What about Liz?" Nancy asked, hope shining in her eyes.
I sighed and ran my hand through my hair. "I want you to know that she's
okay."
"How do you know that?" Jeff asked.
"I can't tell you." The hope dissolved from their eyes as they begun to
realize, not that I knew where she was and wouldn't tell them, but that my
words were simply wishful thinking.
"That's a nice thought, Max," Jeff said, moving his arms to help him stand.
"I talked to her," I said softly. Instantly, he was back in his seat. "I
can't tell you where she is though."
"Max-" Nancy said, her voice both pleading and demanding in a motherly tone
that I hadn't heard from her in a long time.
"I can't tell you," I said, hating that I had even come. I was only
hurting them more, making them remember things that they didn't want to,
and they didn't deserve to be haunted by these old ghosts.
"She's our daughter."
"I'll tell her anything you want me to," I promised them, needing to give
them something. "I just can't tell you where she is."
They looked at each other, hating that the knowledge was so close, and yet
they were still so far in the dark. It was a brighter light then they had
seen in years though, so they ran for it as if the devil were on their
backs. Instantly words came flowing from their mouths--beautiful messages
that I was to relay to Liz. I tried my best to remember it all, hoping
that I had given them more comfort than grief, and I left them, promising
that Liz would hear it all. They nodded, and I only hoped that my face
wouldn't be on a wanted page in The Crashdown the next day.
~~~~~
Liz POV
~~~~~
"Where have you been?" His voice is soft, calm. I let out a breath I
hadn't known I had been holding.
"I had coffee with a friend," I say, not wanting to talk about my meeting
with Maria. No matter how much I loved her, and no matter how much I loved
hearing about everyone, the conversation had not gone how I had wanted-how
I had planned. Maria had not been willing to play along. She had a reason
to look to the future now; she was ready to put the past behind her. I
clung to it as if it could change what I had done-as if it could fix all my
mistakes.
I glanced around my living room. The wood of the old table was faded, the
shine of the finish lost long before it fell into our hands. The couch-a
small loveseat in pale white-had soft scratches from the cat who had been
my only companion during the first grueling years away from home. The cat-
Zan, though no one understood the name-had died less than a year after
Jerry and I had moved in together. He didn't understand why it took so
long for me to grieve for a cat that I had found in the alley behind my
first apartment, but he had comforted me none the less. He had become my
knight then. If only I had known how quickly his armor would rust.
As for Jerry, he sat in the middle of the loveseat, taking up enough room
for at least two people. He had cleaned up, taming his helplessly curly
hair as best as he could. It still looked damp from a recent shower, the
water turning his normally dark blonde hair to an almost chestnut hue. His
clothes were faded from use, but clean and, mostly, in one piece. His
faded blue jeans were only slightly worn with grey threads wearing thin
over his muscular knees. His tee shirt was something that I had found and
given to him, and in deep, bold, black letters over his chest, it
proclaimed the superiority of Ford over Chevy.
"I ordered dinner," he told me, standing up as I walked into the room,
dropping my purse onto a table by the door and shedding my rain slicked
jacket before hanging it on a hook on the wall behind the door. I smiled
slightly in response to Jerry, not wanting to bring money into the
conversation. I had to get through the night without a bruise. Maria had
missed them once, and she might again if all I had were the fading remains
of a night that, like so many others, I hoped to soon forget. New bruises
might draw attention, attention might draw questions, and questions were
something that I simply couldn't deal with.
Sighing quietly, I leaned into Jerry as his arm fell over my shoulder,
wishing that I really could find the comfort his touch had once offered.
Letting my eyes slip closed, I found myself remembering for the first time
in a very long time.
~~~~~
//My back ached as I approached the modest apartment that I shared with my
two favorite male companions. I fished in my purse as I climbed the last
of the lamp-lit stairs, cursing myself for not throwing them into the
zippered pocket that I always told myself was made for keys. When I
approached the door, though, it swung open on its own. Standing in a halo
of light, Jerry looked like an angel-my angel, I thought, accepting the
kiss he offered eagerly. Perhaps it was a bit much-he had only saved me
from a few more moments in the torrent of water that seemed so familiar to
these people-but I loved him just a bit more for it, none the less.
"How was your day?" I asked, throwing my things down in the haphazard way I
had come to enjoy. I threw myself down onto the couch, narrowly missing my
second roommate who howled at my nerve. "Oh, Zan," I cried, grabbing the
sleek black tabby around the stomach and pulling him into my lap. "I'm
sorry baby. I didn't see you there." I looked up to Jerry, who stood at
least three feet from the couch. "I can't believe you're afraid of him," I
said, scratching Zan behind the ears until he purred, rolling his head so
my hand moved to where he wanted it. "He's a sweetheart."
"Only to you, Lizzie," he said, using the pet name that I had come to
prefer. Something about the innocence of it drew me in, making me wish
that just using the name could return the innocence that I had lost. "That
cat hates the rest of the world."
"That's because he's my baby," I cooed, smiling as Zan stretched out and
circled on my stomach, finally pawing my shirt around until he was happy
enough to curl up to sleep. "Let me guess. You've been avoiding the couch
since you got home, because Zan was sitting here, haven't you?" Jerry
rolled his eyes and walked over to the ottoman in the corner, careful to
stay as far from the couch as possible.
"Laugh all you want. You'd be terrified of him too, if you were in my
shoes."
"Wuss," I teased lightly.
"Excuse me?" he asked, his eyebrows rising in mock anger. "What did you
call me?"
"I called you a wuss," I repeated. I gestured to Zan. "What are you going
to do about it?"
He smiled flirtatiously, nearly jumping from the seat to capture my lips
in a searing kiss, then pulling away just as quickly as he had come. Zan
hissed menacingly, and I petted him slowly, trying to soothe him. Jerry
headed for the door.
"Where are you going?" I asked, pouting slightly.
"I'm just going for dinner," he told me. "You have fun with the cat." He
pulled the door open, letting the heat from our apartment soak out into the
rainy night. "Then we can have some fun," he added meaningfully, slipping
our from behind the door.//
~~~~
Maria POV
~~~~~
My hand lay limply on the battered, old motel telephone, a question playing
on repeat in my head. To call Alex, or not to call Alex? Apparently that
was the real question.
For what seemed like the hundredth time that night, I grabbed the phone in
a rush of energy, dialed half of the number, and slammed the phone back
into the base. Rolling my eyes, I laid back onto the bed, trying to force
myself into some kind of decision. Before I made up my mind though, the
phone rang.
"Max?" I asked, putting the phone to my ear. He was the only one who had
the number.
"You know, if I were a less secure man, or I didn't have a sneaking
suspicion that Max was in love with someone else, I would be highly jealous
after a greeting like that."
"If?" I said, smiling. "Michael, how did you get this number?" I paused,
his words setting in. An allusion to Liz? Now? Why? "What did you say
about Max?" I asked.
"Well, with all the time you two have been spending together, a guy could
get jealous."
"Not that," I said. "The other thing."
"Oh," he said, deflated. Had I not just ended one of the worst days I'd
had in a long time, I would have felt bad for not at least giving him some
reassurance about my feelings. No matter how long we were together, I knew
he was still just as insecure as the day he had first told me he loved me-
and then left me. "Just-Isabel heard Max call out Liz's name. She's-we're
worried about him."
"You shouldn't worry," I said, nervously biting my lip. It was a horrible
habit that I just couldn't seem to break. "I'm sure that it's nothing."
"Yeah," Michael said, unconvinced. "It's just, when I told him about it,
he kind of took off." I sat straight up in bed.
"Where did he go?"
"We don't know," Michael said, sounding more hopeless than he had in years.
"He stormed out, and we haven't seen him since."
I tried to reason with myself, telling myself that Max would be fine, but
after what had happened with his father, I didn't like it. Still, I wanted
to make Michael feel better. "I'm sure he's fine," I said lamely. "He
probably just wanted to sort things out for himself."
"Yeah," Michael said softly. He paused. "When are you coming home?"
Then I paused. "I'm not sure. Things aren't going very well down here. I
may catch a flight back tomorrow, depending on how things go."
"I miss you," he said softly, making me smile. It had taken me years, but
I had finally broken in. He'd finally admitted that there was a heart
behind his armor.
"I miss you too." There was some shuffling on the other end of the line,
and I thought I heard a door slam. "What was that?"
There was silence, but I could hear someone-Isabel, I thought-talking in
the background.
"Max is back," Michael said finally. "Do you want to talk to him?" I
thought about it. He would ask me about the meeting with Liz. She had
gotten married. Married. How was I supposed to tell him that?
"Actually, my dinner just got here," I lied. "I'll call back later, okay?"
We said our goodbyes and I hung the phone up, exhaling slowly. If Liz
expected me to tell Max what she had told me, I would never forgive her.
If she made me break one of my last friends, I could promise that my words
of her would not be fond, and somehow, someway, I would make her pay for
hurting him. She may have been my best friend once, but Max was my friend
now. There were no ibests/i in my life anymore, and Liz Parker was no
longer on the list.
~~~~~
Michael POV
~~~~~
I hung the phone up slowly, the male chauvinistic half of me that Maria had
been trying so hard to suppress very glad that she had been too busy to
speak to Max, and my intuitive half (the half that she had slowly
cultivated over the years) wondering why she had become so busy when Max
had gotten back. I pushed the thoughts away and turned my attention to
Max.
"Where were you?" Isabel asked, her eyes checking for anything misplaced in
Max's appearance. "You scared the hell out of us."
"I had something I had to do," Max answered.
"Max, look," Isabel said, using the years she had known me to deduce that I
wasn't going to be any help. "We weren't trying to butt in."
"I know, Isabel," Max said calmly.
"We just worry about you," she said. "Especially now." Max's eyes
narrowed as he remembered what had happened the night before, and I
couldn't help wondering what had gotten him so off-balance. Max Evans was
always in control of everything around him. He was a leader in every sense
of the word. except when Liz Parker wove her magic around his life.
None of it made sense. Everything pointed to Liz, someone we hadn't even
heard from in years-someone who had up and left us when things got tough.
If she hadn't proven her loyalties long before, I would have thought she
had led the enemy to us. They seemed to follow her name. Still, though, I
knew she couldn't be blamed for that-not entirely at least. What she did
had corrupted us from the inside, and even though Max always trusted her
without a doubt, it had taken me a long time to make myself believe she had
just happened to run as everything came crashing down. Now I didn't know
what to think.
~~~~~
Liz POV
~~~~~
Maria was waiting at the bar, a strawberry margarita on the bar in front of
her, when I walked into Gustav's. Her hair, still shoulder length, but
longer than I remembered, was held back by a thin headband. She was
wearing a faded pair of blue jeans and one of the tank tops that her mother
used to sell. A suede jacket sat on the stool beside her.
I walked up beside her, catching the bartender's eyes before hers. "Can I
have a virgin margarita please?" I asked, waiting for Maria to move her
jacket to the other side before taking the stool. The bartender nodded and
went to work.
"I'm glad you showed up," I told her, still watching the bartender.
"Yeah," she answered tightly. "Well, there are still a few things that we
have to talk about." The sound of her voice alone reminded me of the
distance between us now-the distance I had put between us. There was no
leisure in her voice. It was all professional. She didn't want to be here
to catch up with me. She was only looking out for herself now, and the
others, and honestly, I couldn't blame her. I hated what I had done to
them, but I couldn't take it back, no matter how much I wanted to, and if I
had saved them all by doing it, I wouldn't change a thing, because no
matter how much Maria wanted to believe I had changed, I cared for all of
them, and I'd probably still give my life for them. Time changed a lot
though, and the answer was a bit fuzzier than it had once been.
"Look," I said, spinning the bar stool slightly to the side, "I'm sorry
about yesterday."
"Forget about it," Maria cut me off. "Things changed. I'm sorry I pushed
it."
"Still, it shouldn't have come out like that," Liz said. "I wanted you to
know, but not like that."
Maria sighed, taking down a little piece of the wall she had put up. She
and Michael were more alike than either of them would care to admit. I'd
never been on this side of her wall before though. "It was never going to
be easy," she told me. "There's no easy way to bring that into
conversation." My margarita came and I took a drink, trying to occupy my
mouth as an explanation for the silence.
"So," I said finally, "how is everyone? How's Alex?" Alex was safe. Alex
was always common ground.
"He's good. He's married too," she said, and my eyes narrowed. "He nearly
gave Isabel a heart attack when he proposed." Maria smiled at the memory
and I couldn't help the pang I felt at not knowing it myself. "I don't
think I've ever seen Isabel flustered. It was like she fell off her
throne."
"You were there?" I had to ask.
"We all were. He proposed at the Congratulations party for Max getting
into medical school." She smiled proudly, as if his acceptance was her
own, and I couldn't help envying her. "He had the ring baked into her
piece of cake. He worked it out with the Evans, and he made sure that they
knew what piece was Isabel's and when to give it to her, because he wanted
their song to be playing on the stereo." She paused, remembering, and all
I could see was the face of the shy sixteen-year-old who could barely work
up the nerve to say hello to Isabel. "It was beautiful. Every girl there
cried, and then Max made a big scene about stealing his party, but he was
smiling too."
"I wish I could have been there," I said, but even as the words came out of
my mouth, I knew they were a mistake.
"You could have been there," she said, her voice softer, not tinted with
the anger from the day before.
"Maria, you don't understand."
"Make me understand, Liz," she pleaded, "because I've been trying. I've
been trying to explain to myself for years, why I couldn't know." Her
voice was high, near breaking, and I was about to cave too.
"Let's sit somewhere," I said, walking to a little booth built into the
wall with my margarita in hand. Maria followed behind me, her coat draped
over her hand.
"Are you really going to explain, Liz?" she asked. "Because I don't want
to hear more excuses. If you can't at least explain to me why my best
friend couldn't even tell me why she had to just up and leave town, then
I'm going to leave right now. If you can't tell me that, then I won't make
any more time for this little game you're making up her. There are people
who need me back home."
I nodded softly, wondering when I had lost the fire that Maria had tendered
so well. "It's not something I can tell just you," I said. My hand was
wrapped around her arm before she had even fully stood from the table. "I
have to tell everyone, and it's not something they can hear from you, or
over a phone."
Her eyes clouded in disbelief. "What are you saying Liz?"
I sighed. "I guess I'm saying I'm going back to Roswell."
feedback. It's great. Second, this part is pretty long (10-ish pages) to
make up for the time that the next part is going to take me. It definitely
won't be out before Christmas, probably later. I only get out of school...
sheesh, on the 19th, and my sister's birthday is the 22nd. I may be able
to get something done on Christmas if I remember to bring a disk to my
uncle's house. (He's a computer freak, and it would get me away from my
family, but there's also a good chance someone would try to read it, so...
I don't know yet. Pros and Cons. I'll decide soon.) Anyway, hope you like
the part, and I'll try to make the next part long too, but... well, here's
to hoping. So R&R and I love you guys for all the great feedback. Okay,
I'm shutting up now.
Tina
~~~~~
Part Five
Max POV
~~~~~
I climbed into my car after the incident with Michael and Isabel, not
really caring that my father was out back barbequing for my welcome home
party, or that my mother was in the kitchen making everything that was not
barbeque-able. I just wanted to get out. Liz was turning my life upside
down once again, but this time she wasn't there to help me set it straight
again.
I didn't really know where I was going until the still bright neon lights
came into view. It was amazing to me how popular the restaurant still was.
All of the teenagers spent hours after school there, and a whole new set
of high school girls had taken over Liz and Maria's retired uniforms.
Sometimes I liked to go in, just to let myself pretend that I was just
another one of the high schoolers. So much of my time was spent pretending
that I was sixteen again. It was ironic. When I was sixteen, I wished I
was anyone else. Now I realize that that was probably the happiest I've
ever been in my life. My biggest secret had been shared with total
strangers, the FBI was chasing me, and I was placed in a spotlight that I
had spent my life avoiding, but I was happy. She was with me.
"Hi Max," Mrs. Parker said as I found myself at the counter. She was
sitting behind it, working the register. I had managed to come on the one
night that she had to come down and work through each night because they
were still short one hand. one hand that I had just found. "I thought you
were in Portland."
"I came back early," I told her. "I wanted to see my family again before
school started."
"So what are you doing here?"
"Actually, I wanted to talk to you and Jeff." In the years since Liz had
left, I had actually gotten to know her parents pretty better than in all
the years that I nearly lived in their diner. I was constantly in the
restaurant after Liz left, as usual, trying to force myself to forget. I
would sit in Maria's section and just pretend that Liz was on break, or
that she was upstairs getting ready to come down. After the first few
months and the countless Will Smith burgers and Men in Black Berry Pie, it
got pretty hard for them to not notice me.
"Just go on in back then, Max. I'll get one of the girls to watch the
register." She smiled at me and I walked back through the all too familiar
employee doors. It was like a portal to a different time behind those
doors. The same old, tattered, 70's style couch sat against the back wall
next to the same faded wooden door that I dropped Liz off at after every-
planned-date we had. The same pale orange lockers sat against the opposite
wall, covered in stickers for bands and concerts that were generations old.
The same brown tile even covered the floor, fading into carpet as it hit
the stairs that led to a world that I had once been innately involved in.
Nancy came in then, letting the door swing softly behind her. She brushed
a strand of graying red hair behind her ear. "Even behind the counter,
that job takes something out of you." I smiled at her. "I'll go and get
Jeff." With a smile she walked up the old staircase, trying to hold the
arthritis that was slowly claiming her aging joints. She aged faster than
she should have, and it was starting to show.
I sat myself on the tattered old couch, unsure of why I had come. I
couldn't tell them where Liz was. Part of me knew that she would come back
when she was ready. Part of me knew that if she didn't, Maria would bring
her kicking and screaming. Really though, that wasn't why I wanted to keep
Liz's location to myself. Part of me knew that she had run from us, that
she didn't want us back. Part of me still blamed myself for her leaving.
Part of me didn't want to give her another reason to run.
Another part of me wanted to throw her over my shoulder and carry her back
myself. That was the part male chauvinistic part that Maria had been
trying to tame with our friendship. Had she known, she probably would have
wished she wouldn't have worked so hard on that.
"Hi Max," Jeff said, appearing on the stairs with Nancy close behind him.
"Hi Mr. Parker," I answered, uncomfortable calling him by his first name,
even after the many times he had insisted I should. No matter how long I
knew him for, he would always be Liz's father, and my mother would be proud
to know that I had learned that that meant that he deserved respect. I
shifted myself further towards the arm of the chair as the couple sat
beside me.
Jeff smiled. "How many times do I have to tell you to call me Jeff?" His
tone was light, but there was a burden that always pulled on him,
especially when he saw me. That was what I hated about the friendship I
had established with them. I knew that every time they saw me they thought
of Liz, and I knew that it kept them at least one step further from ever
moving on. Again, I wondered what I was going to say to them. "What did
you want to talk to us about?"
"Well," I said, suddenly uncomfortable. I wasn't going to taunt them with
the information that I had. I just wanted them to know that she was safe.
I wanted them to be able to move on, to stop wondering. "It's actually
about Liz."
The looked up, instantly enthralled by whatever I had to say. I had to
feel bad for them. When Liz left, they had been broken. They had everyone
looking for her-the police, friends, family-but slowly the searching
dulled, and people began to give up. The police took her off the runaway
list when she turned 18, simply sending her parents a note that said that
since she was legal they wouldn't spend any more money looking for her. in
much kinder words of course. That was really where it all ended for them.
That was when they broke, and they gave up on finding her. That was when
they really admitted that she was gone.
"What about Liz?" Nancy asked, hope shining in her eyes.
I sighed and ran my hand through my hair. "I want you to know that she's
okay."
"How do you know that?" Jeff asked.
"I can't tell you." The hope dissolved from their eyes as they begun to
realize, not that I knew where she was and wouldn't tell them, but that my
words were simply wishful thinking.
"That's a nice thought, Max," Jeff said, moving his arms to help him stand.
"I talked to her," I said softly. Instantly, he was back in his seat. "I
can't tell you where she is though."
"Max-" Nancy said, her voice both pleading and demanding in a motherly tone
that I hadn't heard from her in a long time.
"I can't tell you," I said, hating that I had even come. I was only
hurting them more, making them remember things that they didn't want to,
and they didn't deserve to be haunted by these old ghosts.
"She's our daughter."
"I'll tell her anything you want me to," I promised them, needing to give
them something. "I just can't tell you where she is."
They looked at each other, hating that the knowledge was so close, and yet
they were still so far in the dark. It was a brighter light then they had
seen in years though, so they ran for it as if the devil were on their
backs. Instantly words came flowing from their mouths--beautiful messages
that I was to relay to Liz. I tried my best to remember it all, hoping
that I had given them more comfort than grief, and I left them, promising
that Liz would hear it all. They nodded, and I only hoped that my face
wouldn't be on a wanted page in The Crashdown the next day.
~~~~~
Liz POV
~~~~~
"Where have you been?" His voice is soft, calm. I let out a breath I
hadn't known I had been holding.
"I had coffee with a friend," I say, not wanting to talk about my meeting
with Maria. No matter how much I loved her, and no matter how much I loved
hearing about everyone, the conversation had not gone how I had wanted-how
I had planned. Maria had not been willing to play along. She had a reason
to look to the future now; she was ready to put the past behind her. I
clung to it as if it could change what I had done-as if it could fix all my
mistakes.
I glanced around my living room. The wood of the old table was faded, the
shine of the finish lost long before it fell into our hands. The couch-a
small loveseat in pale white-had soft scratches from the cat who had been
my only companion during the first grueling years away from home. The cat-
Zan, though no one understood the name-had died less than a year after
Jerry and I had moved in together. He didn't understand why it took so
long for me to grieve for a cat that I had found in the alley behind my
first apartment, but he had comforted me none the less. He had become my
knight then. If only I had known how quickly his armor would rust.
As for Jerry, he sat in the middle of the loveseat, taking up enough room
for at least two people. He had cleaned up, taming his helplessly curly
hair as best as he could. It still looked damp from a recent shower, the
water turning his normally dark blonde hair to an almost chestnut hue. His
clothes were faded from use, but clean and, mostly, in one piece. His
faded blue jeans were only slightly worn with grey threads wearing thin
over his muscular knees. His tee shirt was something that I had found and
given to him, and in deep, bold, black letters over his chest, it
proclaimed the superiority of Ford over Chevy.
"I ordered dinner," he told me, standing up as I walked into the room,
dropping my purse onto a table by the door and shedding my rain slicked
jacket before hanging it on a hook on the wall behind the door. I smiled
slightly in response to Jerry, not wanting to bring money into the
conversation. I had to get through the night without a bruise. Maria had
missed them once, and she might again if all I had were the fading remains
of a night that, like so many others, I hoped to soon forget. New bruises
might draw attention, attention might draw questions, and questions were
something that I simply couldn't deal with.
Sighing quietly, I leaned into Jerry as his arm fell over my shoulder,
wishing that I really could find the comfort his touch had once offered.
Letting my eyes slip closed, I found myself remembering for the first time
in a very long time.
~~~~~
//My back ached as I approached the modest apartment that I shared with my
two favorite male companions. I fished in my purse as I climbed the last
of the lamp-lit stairs, cursing myself for not throwing them into the
zippered pocket that I always told myself was made for keys. When I
approached the door, though, it swung open on its own. Standing in a halo
of light, Jerry looked like an angel-my angel, I thought, accepting the
kiss he offered eagerly. Perhaps it was a bit much-he had only saved me
from a few more moments in the torrent of water that seemed so familiar to
these people-but I loved him just a bit more for it, none the less.
"How was your day?" I asked, throwing my things down in the haphazard way I
had come to enjoy. I threw myself down onto the couch, narrowly missing my
second roommate who howled at my nerve. "Oh, Zan," I cried, grabbing the
sleek black tabby around the stomach and pulling him into my lap. "I'm
sorry baby. I didn't see you there." I looked up to Jerry, who stood at
least three feet from the couch. "I can't believe you're afraid of him," I
said, scratching Zan behind the ears until he purred, rolling his head so
my hand moved to where he wanted it. "He's a sweetheart."
"Only to you, Lizzie," he said, using the pet name that I had come to
prefer. Something about the innocence of it drew me in, making me wish
that just using the name could return the innocence that I had lost. "That
cat hates the rest of the world."
"That's because he's my baby," I cooed, smiling as Zan stretched out and
circled on my stomach, finally pawing my shirt around until he was happy
enough to curl up to sleep. "Let me guess. You've been avoiding the couch
since you got home, because Zan was sitting here, haven't you?" Jerry
rolled his eyes and walked over to the ottoman in the corner, careful to
stay as far from the couch as possible.
"Laugh all you want. You'd be terrified of him too, if you were in my
shoes."
"Wuss," I teased lightly.
"Excuse me?" he asked, his eyebrows rising in mock anger. "What did you
call me?"
"I called you a wuss," I repeated. I gestured to Zan. "What are you going
to do about it?"
He smiled flirtatiously, nearly jumping from the seat to capture my lips
in a searing kiss, then pulling away just as quickly as he had come. Zan
hissed menacingly, and I petted him slowly, trying to soothe him. Jerry
headed for the door.
"Where are you going?" I asked, pouting slightly.
"I'm just going for dinner," he told me. "You have fun with the cat." He
pulled the door open, letting the heat from our apartment soak out into the
rainy night. "Then we can have some fun," he added meaningfully, slipping
our from behind the door.//
~~~~
Maria POV
~~~~~
My hand lay limply on the battered, old motel telephone, a question playing
on repeat in my head. To call Alex, or not to call Alex? Apparently that
was the real question.
For what seemed like the hundredth time that night, I grabbed the phone in
a rush of energy, dialed half of the number, and slammed the phone back
into the base. Rolling my eyes, I laid back onto the bed, trying to force
myself into some kind of decision. Before I made up my mind though, the
phone rang.
"Max?" I asked, putting the phone to my ear. He was the only one who had
the number.
"You know, if I were a less secure man, or I didn't have a sneaking
suspicion that Max was in love with someone else, I would be highly jealous
after a greeting like that."
"If?" I said, smiling. "Michael, how did you get this number?" I paused,
his words setting in. An allusion to Liz? Now? Why? "What did you say
about Max?" I asked.
"Well, with all the time you two have been spending together, a guy could
get jealous."
"Not that," I said. "The other thing."
"Oh," he said, deflated. Had I not just ended one of the worst days I'd
had in a long time, I would have felt bad for not at least giving him some
reassurance about my feelings. No matter how long we were together, I knew
he was still just as insecure as the day he had first told me he loved me-
and then left me. "Just-Isabel heard Max call out Liz's name. She's-we're
worried about him."
"You shouldn't worry," I said, nervously biting my lip. It was a horrible
habit that I just couldn't seem to break. "I'm sure that it's nothing."
"Yeah," Michael said, unconvinced. "It's just, when I told him about it,
he kind of took off." I sat straight up in bed.
"Where did he go?"
"We don't know," Michael said, sounding more hopeless than he had in years.
"He stormed out, and we haven't seen him since."
I tried to reason with myself, telling myself that Max would be fine, but
after what had happened with his father, I didn't like it. Still, I wanted
to make Michael feel better. "I'm sure he's fine," I said lamely. "He
probably just wanted to sort things out for himself."
"Yeah," Michael said softly. He paused. "When are you coming home?"
Then I paused. "I'm not sure. Things aren't going very well down here. I
may catch a flight back tomorrow, depending on how things go."
"I miss you," he said softly, making me smile. It had taken me years, but
I had finally broken in. He'd finally admitted that there was a heart
behind his armor.
"I miss you too." There was some shuffling on the other end of the line,
and I thought I heard a door slam. "What was that?"
There was silence, but I could hear someone-Isabel, I thought-talking in
the background.
"Max is back," Michael said finally. "Do you want to talk to him?" I
thought about it. He would ask me about the meeting with Liz. She had
gotten married. Married. How was I supposed to tell him that?
"Actually, my dinner just got here," I lied. "I'll call back later, okay?"
We said our goodbyes and I hung the phone up, exhaling slowly. If Liz
expected me to tell Max what she had told me, I would never forgive her.
If she made me break one of my last friends, I could promise that my words
of her would not be fond, and somehow, someway, I would make her pay for
hurting him. She may have been my best friend once, but Max was my friend
now. There were no ibests/i in my life anymore, and Liz Parker was no
longer on the list.
~~~~~
Michael POV
~~~~~
I hung the phone up slowly, the male chauvinistic half of me that Maria had
been trying so hard to suppress very glad that she had been too busy to
speak to Max, and my intuitive half (the half that she had slowly
cultivated over the years) wondering why she had become so busy when Max
had gotten back. I pushed the thoughts away and turned my attention to
Max.
"Where were you?" Isabel asked, her eyes checking for anything misplaced in
Max's appearance. "You scared the hell out of us."
"I had something I had to do," Max answered.
"Max, look," Isabel said, using the years she had known me to deduce that I
wasn't going to be any help. "We weren't trying to butt in."
"I know, Isabel," Max said calmly.
"We just worry about you," she said. "Especially now." Max's eyes
narrowed as he remembered what had happened the night before, and I
couldn't help wondering what had gotten him so off-balance. Max Evans was
always in control of everything around him. He was a leader in every sense
of the word. except when Liz Parker wove her magic around his life.
None of it made sense. Everything pointed to Liz, someone we hadn't even
heard from in years-someone who had up and left us when things got tough.
If she hadn't proven her loyalties long before, I would have thought she
had led the enemy to us. They seemed to follow her name. Still, though, I
knew she couldn't be blamed for that-not entirely at least. What she did
had corrupted us from the inside, and even though Max always trusted her
without a doubt, it had taken me a long time to make myself believe she had
just happened to run as everything came crashing down. Now I didn't know
what to think.
~~~~~
Liz POV
~~~~~
Maria was waiting at the bar, a strawberry margarita on the bar in front of
her, when I walked into Gustav's. Her hair, still shoulder length, but
longer than I remembered, was held back by a thin headband. She was
wearing a faded pair of blue jeans and one of the tank tops that her mother
used to sell. A suede jacket sat on the stool beside her.
I walked up beside her, catching the bartender's eyes before hers. "Can I
have a virgin margarita please?" I asked, waiting for Maria to move her
jacket to the other side before taking the stool. The bartender nodded and
went to work.
"I'm glad you showed up," I told her, still watching the bartender.
"Yeah," she answered tightly. "Well, there are still a few things that we
have to talk about." The sound of her voice alone reminded me of the
distance between us now-the distance I had put between us. There was no
leisure in her voice. It was all professional. She didn't want to be here
to catch up with me. She was only looking out for herself now, and the
others, and honestly, I couldn't blame her. I hated what I had done to
them, but I couldn't take it back, no matter how much I wanted to, and if I
had saved them all by doing it, I wouldn't change a thing, because no
matter how much Maria wanted to believe I had changed, I cared for all of
them, and I'd probably still give my life for them. Time changed a lot
though, and the answer was a bit fuzzier than it had once been.
"Look," I said, spinning the bar stool slightly to the side, "I'm sorry
about yesterday."
"Forget about it," Maria cut me off. "Things changed. I'm sorry I pushed
it."
"Still, it shouldn't have come out like that," Liz said. "I wanted you to
know, but not like that."
Maria sighed, taking down a little piece of the wall she had put up. She
and Michael were more alike than either of them would care to admit. I'd
never been on this side of her wall before though. "It was never going to
be easy," she told me. "There's no easy way to bring that into
conversation." My margarita came and I took a drink, trying to occupy my
mouth as an explanation for the silence.
"So," I said finally, "how is everyone? How's Alex?" Alex was safe. Alex
was always common ground.
"He's good. He's married too," she said, and my eyes narrowed. "He nearly
gave Isabel a heart attack when he proposed." Maria smiled at the memory
and I couldn't help the pang I felt at not knowing it myself. "I don't
think I've ever seen Isabel flustered. It was like she fell off her
throne."
"You were there?" I had to ask.
"We all were. He proposed at the Congratulations party for Max getting
into medical school." She smiled proudly, as if his acceptance was her
own, and I couldn't help envying her. "He had the ring baked into her
piece of cake. He worked it out with the Evans, and he made sure that they
knew what piece was Isabel's and when to give it to her, because he wanted
their song to be playing on the stereo." She paused, remembering, and all
I could see was the face of the shy sixteen-year-old who could barely work
up the nerve to say hello to Isabel. "It was beautiful. Every girl there
cried, and then Max made a big scene about stealing his party, but he was
smiling too."
"I wish I could have been there," I said, but even as the words came out of
my mouth, I knew they were a mistake.
"You could have been there," she said, her voice softer, not tinted with
the anger from the day before.
"Maria, you don't understand."
"Make me understand, Liz," she pleaded, "because I've been trying. I've
been trying to explain to myself for years, why I couldn't know." Her
voice was high, near breaking, and I was about to cave too.
"Let's sit somewhere," I said, walking to a little booth built into the
wall with my margarita in hand. Maria followed behind me, her coat draped
over her hand.
"Are you really going to explain, Liz?" she asked. "Because I don't want
to hear more excuses. If you can't at least explain to me why my best
friend couldn't even tell me why she had to just up and leave town, then
I'm going to leave right now. If you can't tell me that, then I won't make
any more time for this little game you're making up her. There are people
who need me back home."
I nodded softly, wondering when I had lost the fire that Maria had tendered
so well. "It's not something I can tell just you," I said. My hand was
wrapped around her arm before she had even fully stood from the table. "I
have to tell everyone, and it's not something they can hear from you, or
over a phone."
Her eyes clouded in disbelief. "What are you saying Liz?"
I sighed. "I guess I'm saying I'm going back to Roswell."