Disclaimer: The usual.
Chapter: 10 Numb
I'm tired of being what you want me to be
Feeling so faithless under the surface
Don't know what you're expecting of me
Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes
Every step that I take is another mistake to you…
"All right class. That's a wrap," Professor Nichols said. "When we next reconvene, we will be debating the pros and cons of the newest anti-abortion bill. Is it really a safeguard for minors? Or, is it just another attempt by religious based Republicans to chip away at Roe vs. Wade? Consider the ramifications of such a bill passing. The next time we meet, I want objective and concise arguments. Now get the hell out of here," he said gruffly,"and have a good holiday."
Max noted humorously how quickly the hall emptied out. He only wished he felt half as eager about the holiday break. He had eluded confrontation with his father for nearly a month now, which had been no small feat. If Max had it his way, he'd scrap Thanksgiving dinner all together. But that would upset his mother, something Max hated to do. So yeah, his not attending was not an option. He could however, invite backup. His father, always the politician, was less likely to confront him in front of company.
"See you tomorrow Charlie," Max said to the professor as he made his way towards the exit. He then turned to his waiting friends and asked:
"So what about you guys?" Max addressed this question to Liz, Michael, and Maria, the only students besides himself to linger.
"Studying…being disgusted…partying with celebrities," Liz, Maria, and Michael answered in stereo.
Max smirked. "If I wanted to watch the three stooges, I'd rent the DVD."
"Ha, ha," Michael said, Liz smacked Max's arm, and Maria rolled her eyes.
"Seriously guys," Max said, "If none of you are going home for the holidays, come home with me." He could really use the moral support.
Liz glanced questioningly at Max. She knew why she didn't want to go home for the holidays, but why didn't he? If she were to guess, he was avoiding his father. She and Max had grown closer in the last week or so. They still had yet to define their relationship, but they were getting there. So, Liz knew that Max and his father had some serious issues to deal with, but she also knew that Max wasn't ready to deal with them yet.
"Sure. Why not?" Liz shrugged, and was rewarded by Max's beautiful smile.
"Count me in too," Maria said. "Anything is better than watching my mom fawn over her newest boytoy," she shuddered.
"What the hell," Michael shrugged. "If you've been to one Hollywood party you've been to them all."
Liz and Maria stared at him in shocked surprise.
"What?" Michael asked. "You guys know my dad is an Entertainment Lawyer. We get invited to Hollywood parties all the time."
"Well I can't promise you stars," Max said darkly, "But it will be entertaining."
Maria and Michael laughed. They thought Max was joking. Liz knew better, and she couldn't help but worry.
The ride to the Evans house the next day was a quiet one; Liz observed. Maria and Michael cuddled in the back seat, while Max drove in brooding silence.
"Hey," she said softly, getting Max's attention, "You want to go somewhere after dinner, maybe hangout for a while?"
He smiled for the first time that afternoon. "What did you have in mind?"
"I don't know," Liz ducked her head shyly. "What would cheer you up?"
Michael snickered. "Dude, please don't disappointment me here."
Max sighed. "As usual I have no idea what you're taking about, Michael."
Michael scoffed. "I'm talking about you losing your touch."
"And you've deduced this how?"
"Well…" Michael paused, "It's pretty clear to me that when a girl offers to cheer you up, what she's really offering is to 'do you', to hook-up. How could you totally miss that cue? By the way," he said turning his attention to Liz, "I'm impressed. Didn't know you had it in you? At least not yet," he winked.
"Michael!" Max growled when Liz blushed.
"Idiot." Maria added, slapping Michael upside the head.
"Happy holiday Rosita," Max hugged the Evans' Spanish housekeeper as she opened the door to the Governors Mansion. She'd been with the family since Max was ten years old, often playing the role of confidante and babysitter, while Max's parents campaigned or attended political events.
Rosita returned his hug whole heartedly, and then said in slightly accented english, "You're late. They're having cocktails in the living room, and the Governor's had several already," she warned.
Max grimaced. "Thanks for the heads up," he said, and then he introduced her to his guests, and greetings were quickly exchanged. Afterwards, Rosita collected their coats to hang in the hall closet, and then escorted them to the living room.
Liz surveyed her surroundings with awe, quickly followed by a sense of intimidation as they were lead towards the living room. The entry hall alone looked bigger than her parent's entire apartment. With that in mind, Liz tugged self-consciously at her red sweater, and brushed imaginary lent from her black wool slacks.
"The guests have arrived, Governor," Rosita announced, ushering them into the living room. "Dinner will be served in ten minutes, if that's ok with you sir."
"That's fine Rosita," Phillip Evans said. He waited for her to leave, and then said to Max, "It's about damn time."
Max ignored his words; instead he focused on introducing his friends. "Mom, Dad, Izzy, you guys already know Michael. I'd like to introduce you to Liz Parker and Maria DeLuca," he said formally.
Introductions were made, and then they all retired to the huge dining room. Liz noted the animosity between Max and his older sister right off the bat, the undertones were subtle but unmistakable. The statuesque blonde looked cold enough to freeze ice on her ass, while her fiancé appeared dull but nice. Love was truly a mystery, Liz thought as she took a seat. The beautifully decorated table seated twelve, so the nine of them fit comfortably, if a little unevenly. Max's father sat at the head of the table while his mother graced the other end. Max was seated to Liz's right, followed by Maria to her left, with Michael next to her. That left Max's sister and Alex Whitman, and Professor Nichols seated on the opposite side. Liz took a sip of water from a crystal glass, and glanced over at Max waiting for a cue. The atmosphere in the room literally vibrated with tension.
Max nodded with grim acknowledgement. He could have kissed his mother in gratitude when she asked, "So how's school going honey?"
"School's great mom," Max smiled at Diane Evans, "I pretty much aced all my midterms."
"And debate?" Phillip asked, while serving attendants discretely offered food from various dishes.
"What about it?" Max asked calmly.
"Charlie here," Phillip nodded towards Nichols, "told me about your recent loss."
Max glared at Charlie who winced. Good. He was supposed to be on Max's side. With a casual shrug, Max said, "You can't win 'em all."
"With that type of attitude," Phillip sneered, "I guess not."
Isabel's eyes widened in feigned disbelief. "That's rare. Too much partying, huh? I heard you threw a killer Halloween bash." She added fuel to the flame.
Max watched his father's expression darken, and once again his mother intervened. "Liz isn't it?" She addressed the dark haired girl sitting beside her son. "Max tells me you're from Roswell NM. What's it like living in a town made infamous for its supposed alien landing? Tourism must be amazing."
Liz was startled by the question. She'd been caught up in watching Max's dad and sister tag team him. And she'd thought her family had issues.
"Most of the time it's great," she said in answer to Diane's question. "But it gets old sometimes."
"Oh?" Diane's brow rose inquiringly.
"We get the occasional weird tourist or two, who take the whole alien landing thing way too seriously," Liz said shaking her head in bemusement. "My parent's run an alien themed café, so they're pretty inescapable."
"How do your parents feel about you attending Kenmont?" Phillip Evans asked, addressing Liz for the first time. No doubt he thought attending Kenmont was big achievement for such a small-town girl.
Max opened his mouth to speak, but Liz kicked him under the table. She could handle herself. "They're proud of me no matter what, but they wanted me to go to Harvard." Liz answered modestly. "I was offered a full scholarship there too."
Max's father looked a Liz with quiet speculation. No doubt he'd written her off as some sort of airhead.
"And have you chosen a major yet?" he asked interestedly.
"Dad, don't you think you're being a little—intrusive?" Max objected.
"Is there something wrong with me getting to know your friends?" Phillip Evans asked blandly. "I wasn't being too… forward, was I Miss Parker?"
"It's Liz. And no sir you weren't." Liz said attempting to smooth things over. "And to answer your question, I haven't decided yet. However, I'm leaning towards Civil Rights Law or Lobbyist."
Max watched his father smile in triumph. He knew Liz had been trying to divert the attention away from him, however she had failed miserably. Instead, she'd unknowingly handed his father the opening he needed to wage all out war against Max's career choice.
"So you're interested in politics?" Phillip smiled.
"Umm…well…yeah, kinda," Liz mumbled realizing her mistake.
"And you Miss DeLuca?" Phillip Evans asked.
"I'm more interested in the law making aspect of politics than politics itself," Maria said blithely.
"What about you Michael? Are you interested in politics?" Phillip asked, and Max shook his head grimly. His father was determined to jump start the topic.
Michael paused, a glass of wine half-way to his lips. "Does watching Bill Maher count? Because I saw an episode last week where the President was holding hands with some Arab dude in a news clip. What an ass-hat!" Michael shook his head before returning to his drink.
Isabel gasped and Phillip frowned. Everyone else fought to contain their mirth. For once the joke was on his father, Max thought. And he didn't seem to like it very much. Max wasn't exactly surprised when he became Phillips next target.
"Still fantasizing about becoming the next T.S. Elliot, Max?"
"More like Tony Kirshner." Max deadpanned.
"Isn't Kirshner gay?" Isabel sounded scandalized.
"Would you just keep quiet for once," Alex reprimanded her.
"I'm just saying—"
"Novelist, Playwright, same difference," Phillip scoffed, "same pansy assed career."
"Phillip please, this is hardly the time." Diane said looking anxious.
"No Mom. Don't interfere. Let him talk." Max's amber eyes pleaded with her for understanding. "Dad and I need to settle this once and for all."
Max stared intensely at his father and then asked, "Do you honestly believe I have no talent as a writer? Or, do you just not respect me enough to care about what I want?"
The room grew even more tense as Max waited for Phillip Evans to speak.
"Don't be ridiculous Max. Writing may be a fun hobby, but we all live in the real world, have to utilize our real strengths. Like my father and his father before him, you were born with the gift of gab, as well as being charismatic. Capitalize on those strengths son. Don't delude yourself into thinking you possess talent anywhere else."
Liz sat there stunned. What a horrible thing for a parent to say to their own son. Having ambition for your child was one thing, but using outright cruelty as persuasion was another. She reached for Max's hand under the table, but she doubted he noticed, if the stiffness of his body was any indication.
"How would you even know if I possess talent or not?" Max asked bitterly. "You've never even bothered to listen to me, let alone read anything I've produced. At least Charlie has, and he thinks I'm good."
Phillip Evans scoffed. "Is that what he's told you?"
"Now wait a minute!" Charlie said sharply, entering the conversation for the first time, Liz noted. Unlike most people at the table, he'd managed to fly under the radar.
Until now.
"I never said he wasn't talented," Charlie added defensively.
"No, but you do agree with me about politics being a more realistic future for him." Phillip said, and Liz caught her breath as she watched Max's illusions about his friend shatter before his eyes.
"It's wasn't like that Max," Charlie said following the devastating silence.
"Then how was it?" Max asked numbly, as he watched his idol, a man who was never at a loss for words, struggle to find some. "You know what, don't bother, I wouldn't believe you anyway. Let's go guys," he said to Michael, Maria, and Liz. "Coming here was a mistake. I apologize for ruining your holiday and subjecting you to this…this…fucking farce."
The ride home was bleak. Even Michael and Maria were subdued. They'd exited the Governor's Mansion so fast; Liz barely had time to grab her coat.
"Yo Maxwell," Michael called from the backseat. "How bout we stop at Rainey's and get loaded? On me."
"I appreciate the offer Michael, but I'm not in the mood for company. But you guys go. Don't let this ruin the rest of your day."
"I'm not going either," Liz said.
"You sure?" Maria asked her green eyes serious and concerned.
"Yeah," Max and Liz answered in unison.
Twenty minutes later, they had dropped of Michael and Maria, and now stood outside Liz's dorm.
"You want to come in?" Liz asked Max, she was really worried about him. She hadn't seen him this—unhappy since his recital of the Richard Corey poem.
Max shook his head. "I'm just gonna go to my room and crash."
"Just for a few minutes," Liz pleaded.
Max noticed the scared look in her eyes, so he grudgingly agreed. He knew Liz was worried about him, but all he wanted to do was dig a hole somewhere and crawl into it.
They entered Liz's room silently, and she offered Max a seat on her bed. She sat opposite from him, searching for the right thing to say. After a few minutes, she decided there were no such magically words.
"Are you going to be ok?" she simply asked.
He laughed bitterly in response. "Why wouldn't I be? It's not like everyday someone you trusted stabs you in the back."
Liz ran a weary hand through her dark hair. "You don't really believe that. Do you Max? I think your father was just playing both sides against the middle. A game of divide and conquer. Even I could see that."
Max shrugged dejectedly. "Mission accomplished."
"Max…"
"You just don't get it!" he interrupted her angrily. "I was done with debate. I planned to quit this year, but I stupidly allowed Charlie to persuade me into staying, on the condition that he would help me with my dad. Get him to take my writing seriously."
Liz's eyes widened in shock. "You wanted to quit debate? But you're so good at it."
Max smiled wryly. "Duly noted. But I don't love debate, not like I love writing. I was going to focus this year on perfecting my craft. Apparently, Charlie had other plans." Max sighed tiredly. "All this time I thought he was looking out for my best interest, and he just wanted a piece of me like everyone else."
"Max—"
"—If you want to throw a killer party, use Max. If you want a winning debate team, use Max. If you want to live out your unrealized dreams, use Max. And while I jump from pillar to post trying to satisfy everyone's needs but my own, I can't help but wonder when I became that go to guy? I'm just so tired of it Liz. So fucking tired of pretending to be perfect. I keep trying to please everyone but myself. When is it going to be my turn?" Max finally ran out of steam. Slumping forward, he dropped his head into his hands.
Tears ran unchecked down Liz's face. The complete despair in Max's voice made her heart ache. For the first time in their acquaintance, Liz felt like she was really seeing Max. Not the shallow person she thought he was way either, but as someone who was easily hurt, a renaissance man with a poet's soul. And with that new shinning knowledge, Liz felt guilty. Because while Max had laid bare his very soul, Liz had given nothing in return. Like a miser, she'd clung tightly to her secrets, her pain, and her past. And that was just so wrong on so many levels. She needed to be open with Max, to tell him the truth about her past, why she was the way she was. Until she could do that, she cried for both of them.
Max raised his head to speak to Liz, and was surprised by the trail of tears running down her face. God. Did I do this to her? He wondered. Had he really been that much of a schmuck and made his burdens hers?
Sliding across the bed, he gathered her into his arms. "I'm sorry," he whispered as she continued to cry.
"It's not your fault," she drew back from his in surprise.
"But it is. I didn't mean to make you sad," he hoarsely whispered.
"Oh Max," Liz shook her head in denial, "That's not why I'm crying." Well it was, but also wasn't.
"Then why?" he asked, using his thumb to gently brush tears from her cheeks.
Liz didn't know where to start. Instead, she did something totally out of character. Leaning forward, she lowered her mouth to Max's in a soul searing kiss.
Max froze in shock. It didn't last long. Within in seconds he was returning Liz's kiss with equal fervor. His tongue explored the outer softly of her lips before plunging between them. The kiss went on and on, growing more and more passionate, though never losing its gentleness, its sweetness.
When they finally came up for air, both of them breathing harshly, Liz stared at Max and said, "I have something to tell you."
tbc…
