Walking the Border (previously Thin Line)
By sweet like chocolateDisclaimer: Only own them in my dreams
Rating: PG (for now!)
Summary: Liz Parker has hated Max Evans since the first time she saw him. But feelings change, and some things are undeniable. Soon sparks will fly... AU No Aliens M/L CC
A/N OMG- Thank you to all my reviewers, I have never got so many reviews for one story! I love you guys- Bethlynn Giehl, cherrycoke123abc, TheCompleteDitz, kilara, fuck, LizEvans, Natali, marcy, anonymous, jazzypunker, lovedbytheangels, cracker13, purpleant, cheekyfraggle, gig246 (by the way I got your email, I'm really sorry I haven't replied, I've just been busy and my family has been hogging the computer! I'll try and reply today or tomorrow.)
Now for the story, I hope you like...
Max sighed as he stood on the ladder peering into the tree house. He watched as she lent forward and a dark curtain of hair fell across her face. His fingers itched to sweep it back and discover once and for all if it was as silky as it looked. She was deep in concentration, writing in what he only assume was her journal from class.
She was so wrapped in thought that she hadn't even noticed him, and he was loathe to destroy the picture she made sitting there, lost deep in her own mind. Every now and then she'd stop and chew the top of her pen, staring into space, as she searched for some inner thought.
When she began to talk aloud he almost fell of the ladder with shock, only quick reactions saving him from a painful and humiliating descent. He thought at first she was talking to him, but her steady interest in her journal showed him she was merely reading what she had written. He had tried to concentrate on what she was saying, knowing it would give him some insights he might never have again, but he couldn't get his mind to concentrate. It was much more interesting to watch how her eyes lit up like stars and her cheeks flushed a delicate red as she wrote about a subject that obviously moved her.
Eventually he forced his mind away from the perfect picture she made sitting there to what she was actually talking about...and then he felt his heart crack slowly and then break apart. She hated him. She really, seriously loathed him.
He had always hoped that her feelings were not as strong as she made out to others. There were moments when he felt she almost enjoyed hating him; when he felt that behind all the sarcasm and cutting remarks there was affection. This proved him wrong though. Maybe he had just seen what he wanted to see.
When he dragged his thoughts back from self-pity she had changed topic. He wrinkled his nose when he realised she was moaning about the lack of romance in the world. His eyebrows raised in surprise. So Liz Parker was a closet romantic. Immediately several schemes of how to use this information popped into his head.
"...I mean, now it's all about how far you've gone, and how far you're going to go. There are hardly any couples that even really know each other."
He cleared his throat conspicuously, and then realised he didn't have an excuse for being there.
"You were talking out loud." He said rather lamely while berating himself in his head. You were talking out loud, very smooth Evans.
A range of emotions passed through her eyes so quickly he almost missed them. For a second though she looked horrified, as she tried to remain in control. She flushed red as he took a step forward and asked in a much more serious voice than normal, "Did you really mean that?"
She looked around like a rabbit caught in headlights, trying desperately to escape.
"Did I really mean what?"
"All that stuff you said." She looked almost frantic now, and he hesitated before putting her out of her misery. "Because it seems to me that romance is everywhere if you look carefully."
He felt like a coward for not confronting her, but she had unwittingly attacked his only weakness- he could not bear to see her in pain. Even now he felt better as he saw her relax, thinking he had only heard about her romantic side, and he smiled, recognising the familiar glimmer of confrontation light up her eyes.
"And what would you know about romance, Evans?"
She always liked to put emphasis on his surname, as if he wasn't worthy of a first name.
"More than you, Parker."
"Of course, how could I forget? Max Evans and his endless stream of girlfriends. Who is it today?" Her voice was full of contempt and he felt himself shrinking under her scrutiny before his anger rose. Who was she to judge him that quickly?
"You're just waiting till it's you." He flashed her a smile. "Besides it's better to have had many partners..." he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively causing her to bite back a groan at his stupidity, "than none at all."
"Oh, I can't wait. I mean to be treated like an object, with no trace of respect. It's every girls dream." She rolled her eyes and shut the journal, getting to her feet.
"Personally, I haven't had any complaints."
"Hmm...has it ever occurred to you that the girls you date don't have the brain cells to form one."
He wondered for a split second whether he should defend them, but he quickly forgot that idea, after all, it was hard to defend a remark that was probably true. Instead he raised one eyebrow and concentrated on the girl in front of him. "We are in a bad mood tonight, aren't we?"
She shone him a sweet smile. "Only since talking to you."
He clasped his hand over his chest and swooned backwards, clutching the edge of the tree house to keep from falling out, while saying in a teary voice, "You've broken my heart."
"Wasn't aware you had one. Now excuse me, I think I'll retire to my room, where there are no chauvinistic bastards to bug me."
"I'll have you know I'm a sweet, caring, sensitive man."
She moved a step closer and heat filled her gaze. She raked her eyes over his body slowly and appraisingly. He felt his mouth dry up and he gulped. As she leant forward her scent filled the air about him, and he thought his legs might give up.
She leant close to his ear and whispered, "I don't see a man anywhere."
He winced and she moved back. "Low blow Liz."
She smirked. "Now please move. I don't want to be in your presence for longer than is strictly necessary."
"Sooner or later you'll for my charms."
She leaned forward again, a curtain of dark hair sweeping across his chest. Her voice was husky and low when she spoke. "Maybe..."
She skipped round him and out of the entrance of the tree house, calling behind as she climbed down. "...but only in your dreams."
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Max flopped back on to his bed and groaned.
"She hates me."
Michael, who was tossing a small football up and down in the air, raised his eyebrows toward his friend.
"Okay, can I get something straight here? She tells you that she hates you every day, you've yet to have a conversation without trading insults, she avoids you like the plague...and you have only just realised that her feelings towards you aren't exactly full of warmth?" He chuckled to himself. "God, they say I'm slow."
Max raised a finger towards his friend before sinking back down into the bed. When he spoke his voice was one of deep despair, "I guess it just burst my bubble."
He got up slowly and made his way over to the desk and a few moments later the sound of the Counting Crows wound its way through the room.
Michael winced at the music, before biting back a laugh at the look on his friends face.
"C'mon Max, this isn't the end of the world. It could be worse."
Max, who had returned to his position on the bed, rolled over to face his friend.
"Please, enlighten me on how this could be any worse."
"Well, you could have just had to tell her that your alien destined bride is pregnant with your child after you spent the night together and that in twenty-four hours you'll be returning to your home planet, which you've never been to, because this destined bride's child can't survive on Earth. Oh yeah, and without you knowing it, your destined bride has killed one of your closest friends and has betrayed you to your enemies. That, my friend, would be worse."
Max looked at his friend warily, as if worried he might grow another head at some point. He got up from the bed and pushed Michael over to it. He knelt in front of him.
He looked into his eyes and said in all seriousness, "We can deal with this together Michael, one step at a time. Just help me here, give them to me."
Michael looked at him warily and moved backwards slightly away from Max. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"The drugs Michael. Give me the drugs."
"Okay man, you're on the wrong track here..."
Max interrupted him quickly, "It's okay, it's nothing to be ashamed of." He leant forward to take Michael's hand in his. "We can fight this together. I'm here for you."
It was that scene that Diane walked in on- her son kneeling in front of his best friend, holding his hand in a position that looked alarmingly like a proposal. At her entrance Michael flung Max's hand away as if he had some sort of contagious disease and looked at him like he had never seen him before. Diane muttered something about asking whether Michael was staying for dinner before quickly exiting the room, all the time wondering if this was the reason Max supported gay marriages
The boys stood in shell-shocked silence for a minute after she left before Michael exploded.
"Jesus Christ, I'm not on drugs you asshole. You asked me to tell you a worse scenario and I told you one. Just because I have a vivid imagination does not mean I'm popping pills." Michael shuddered and he rubbed his head in frustration. "My God, your mum probably thinks we're gay now, and don't even get me started on what could happen if Isabel finds out." He shuddered again, picturing the havoc Max's sister could wreak. "Do me a favour Max, lets just pretend this never happened. I really don't need any residual mental images. I'm late for my shift at the Crashdown. I'll see you around."
He left Max sitting on the floor still in shock, both from what had happened and now from what had possibly been Michael's longest ever speech. He did raise a valid point though, serious damage control needed to be done. Reluctantly he dragged himself up from the floor and turned off the music.
Hopefully his mother had not told Isabel. It was very unlikely that had happened. It would involve Isabel being in the kitchen at the exact moment his mother walked in. His mother would also have to be shocked enough to tell the first person she came into contact with, and Isabel would have to have been bored enough to actually want to hear what his mother had to say.
All in all it was a very slight possibility that his sister found out. Even then, what was she going to do? He felt slightly better; there was really nothing to worry about.
His good mood lasted exactly five seconds- the time it took to exit his room and meet his sister on the stairs. She shot him a wicked grin and he gulped. Damn.
"Hey Maximus, my math homework's on my desk. I'm really stuck on it. I might just call Liz and get her to help. It feels like ages since I had a proper conversation with her. Who know what we'll find to talk about?" His sister's voice was deceptively light as he made his way resignedly to her bedroom.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
On getting back from the treehouse Liz had time to replay the entire incident in her head. Remembering the look in Max's eyes when he had first appeared she had the uncanny suspicion he had heard more than he let on. Only if that was true, why didn't he confront her? The problem was too much to deal with on her own, and one phone call later she was sitting in the kitchen sharing her thoughts...
"So, do you think he heard it?" Liz dug the spoon deep into the ice-cream and took a bite before carrying on without hearing her friend's answer. "I feel so bad if he did. I mean, it wasn't as if I meant for him to be there."
Maria looked across at her friend. A slight crinkle appeared in her forehead and Liz raised her eyebrows. "What?"
"Liz, you tell him that you hate him almost every day. How does him overhearing you write it in your journal change anything?"
"Because..." writing it in my journal makes it real was what wanted Liz to say, but that would insinuate that it wasn't real to begin with, which was just ridiculous.
Maria was still looking at her and she realised she had never answered her question.
"Because, even though I hate him, he doesn't need to hear me go into the gritty details, that's why." That was why she felt bad. No other reason than that. "You know me Maria, I'm not exactly a confrontational person." Maria snorted and Liz glared at her. "I'm not!"
"I'm sorry chica, but you and Max fight almost every day. I'd say when it comes to him you're a little bit confrontational."
"Max is different." Liz paused to take another bite of ice cream, savouring its taste on her tongue as she contemplated the enigma that was Max Evans. "He gets under my skin." She shrugged to indicate that even she wasn't sure what she meant by that. Maria smiled as a sudden idea about the relationship between her friend and Max Evans hit her. This situation needed careful monitoring and she knew exactly who to ask to help...
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
"Forget it Deluca!"
"C'mon Michael, it's not a big deal. You said yourself the other day that you owed me one. This is a chance to repay the favour."
"Firstly, I meant something along the lines of doing your homework for you," Maria snorted and he glared at her before continuing, "not betraying my best friend. Secondly there is nothing to tell, Max doesn't confide in me about stuff like that." Knowing that he was lying through his teeth Michael quickly turned away before Maria had the chance to see the lie through his eyes. She was annoyingly good at that.
"It's not betrayal, after all it's his happiness at stake here." Maria sighed loftily. "That's your problem Michael, you're so dramatic about everything."
Caught by surprise Michael whirled round, "Me?! Dramatic?! Compared to you?! Please."
"And what do you mean by that?" Maria had taken a dangerous pose, her cheeks were flushed and her hands rested on her hips, but Michael blundered on regardless.
"You're such a drama queen, everyone knows that. You always have to exaggerate everything. Maybe you hope that if you're bright enough and bold enough, nobody will notice the real you hiding inside."
Maria had gone dead white and she shook with anger. Michael stepped backwards hesitantly before stepping forward suddenly, cutting off Maria's outburst before it had even begun.
"You come here asking me to play matchmaker with you, but we both know, if you only told Liz what really happened with Max back in eighth grade- that he isn't the heartless jerk she thinks he is, she'd have no real reason to hate him. She thinks he happily breaks girls' hearts, but you could set that straight. So why don't you Maria, why don't you tell her?"
Michael instantly regretted his speech as Maria's eyes dropped from his and she turned towards the door, not before he saw her eyes fill with tears. He knew he should say something but the words wouldn't come. He grabbed her arm and turned her to face him. "Look, I'm sor..."
"Don't be, you're right." Maria's voice was as he had never heard it before, washed out and without any fire within it. He had a sudden wish that she was yelling. "But did you ever consider Michael, that I'm not brave enough to tell Liz the truth."
There was an uncomfortable silence in the kitchen, each lost in their own thoughts. Michael, desperate to bring back the Maria he knew, sighed and forced himself to do something he knew he'd regret.
"So, if I was to do this whole match-making thing..."
Just like that the old Maria was back, as fire leapt back into her eyes and she played her ace. "If? Michael, I think you will be doing this. After all, I ran into Isabel this morning. You'll never guess what she told me..."
Michael sighed. This was going to be a long day.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Maria Deluca, that odd girl who hangs round with Liz Parker. I know what people say about me, and to be honest I don't care. I am what I am.
I love Liz. She has always been there for me, through the darkest days and the happiest moments, she has been one of the few constant things in my life. I love her for that, and without a doubt she is my best friend, which brings up the question, why don't I tell her that Max didn't break up with me and make me cry, that he only comforted me when I was crying? It's a hard question to answer and one I'm not sure I can even, but I'll try.
Liz loves me, I know that, but she comes from a home where nothing terrible has ever happened. Yes her parents fight, but they love each other, and that's clear. She's always had enough money to be comfortable; she's never sat at the top of the stairs listening to her mother cry, wanting to comfort her, but not knowing how.
I remember Liz comforting me when my dad left. She would try and make me smile, and she never abandoned me. But all the while I knew that she didn't really understand what I was going through. It's not her fault; I think it's almost impossible for anyone who hasn't been through it to truly understand what it feels like. Liz would comfort me and be there for me, but try as she might, I could always see that slight look of pity in her eyes.
I can't describe how much I hate that look of pity. After he left, it seemed that everywhere I looked I was met by pity shining out of everyone's faces. The one thing I didn't want was that pity. I didn't want pity; I just wanted someone to explain to me what was wrong with me, that he didn't want me.
Heck I'm crying now. Stupid diary.
It took me a long time to understand that it wasn't something that was wrong with me, only something that was wrong with him. Even now I sometimes wonder, what if I had done that differently, would he have stayed around? Would everything be different now?
So why don't I tell Liz that I was crying because I was remembering my dad? Maybe it's because I'm not brave enough to have to face that look of pity in her eyes. Maybe because I know she'll nod like she understands and then go home and have a dad to hug and tease. And maybe, just maybe, it's because I don't want to remember, I want to push it away so it feels like it never happened. Does that make me a coward? I don't know anymore. I just don't know.
New chapter soonish I hope! Please keep up your brilliant reviewing!
-Kat