[b]~Max~[/b]
Much to my annoyance, we're late for the party. My father insists that we go out for dinner as a family in spite of my mother's certainty that my destined bride is waiting for me at the Crashdown.
And so, here I sit, my leg bouncing impatiently under the table as I watch the waiter ring up our bill as slowly as he possibly can across the restaurant.
Liz Parker is waiting to give me back my yearbook after we had - dare I even think it? But it happened dammit! I know I wasn't imagining things! - a moment under that tree after the graduation ceremony and I'm stuck in Senor Chow's with my parents, my sister and my sullen best friend.
Yes, Michael came too, although I think he regrets it because Isabel won't stop teasing him about Maria. And when I say tease, I mean tease. Like in the most juvenile fashion possible. "Michael and Maria sitting in a tree," she intones, forcing me to shake my head in sympathy at my best friend, whose expression indicates he is barely refraining from blasting her.
And this is the girl who earned early admission to Columbia. Standards have obviously lowered.
Needless to say, my mom just ends up confused. "Wait a minute! Maria likes [I]Michael[/I]?" I can see the disappointment on her face, roll my eyes. "What about Max?"
"What [I]about[/I] Max?" Isabel demands, cracking open her fortune cookie impatiently. My sister is still angry about the Columbia threat and so I am presently enemy number one. The mere mention of my name irritates her. Even though I am sitting right across the table from her, she hasn't spoken to me once.
"I thought Maria asked Max to that party," my mother replies, sighing. She reaches out, pats my hand. "It's okay, sweetie. There are other girls out there."
Isabel is now staring at my mother. "Are you saying that you think Maria has a thing for Max?" She starts to giggle.
I can feel myself starting to get mad. "Is that so impossible to believe, Isabel?" I demand, barely stopping myself from kicking her under the table. I am not five, in spite of the fact that my sister and I are considered twins, share the same birthday, and are supposedly the same age. Only Isabel acts like she's five. But I digress.
"Puh-lease," Isabel says, waving her fortune in the air dismissively.
"He can have her," Michael mutters.
"I don't [I]want[/I] Maria!" I practically bellow. I feel my face redden when the couple at the next table glances over, obviously disturbed.
Okay, so maybe sometimes I do act like I'm five. But only when provoked.
"Oh no," Isabel agrees, the malicious smile on her face sending a shiver down my spine. "We all know who Max wants, don't we?"
Whoa. Something is seriously wrong with my sister. She's never - not once - directed that expression at me. "Excuse us for a moment," I say through gritted teeth, climbing to my feet. "Isabel, I need to speak to you. In private. Now."
"How rude! We're in the middle of a dinner here, Max," Isabel snaps, her dark eyes glittering.
My father intervenes here. "I don't know what's going on between you two," he hisses in an undertone, "But I want you to deal with it. Right now."
"Which is what I'm trying to do, Dad," I say patiently, still staring at Isabel.
She tosses her head. "Oh fine." She flounces to her feet and then flounces out of the restaurant. My sister has perfected the art of flouncing.
"Okay, what the hell is your problem?" I demand the instant we're alone.
"I don't have a problem, Max," Isabel replies. She has her back turned to me, her arms crossed and it is very evident that she has no intention of telling me just why she has been so angry at me all day.
"Isabel!"
She whirls suddenly, glaring. "Why didn't you tell me you got into Manhattan?"
"What?" I have absolutely no idea what's she talking about.
"Manhattan University, Max," my sister repeats slowly, as though I'm two and possibly might not understand large words. "You got in. I saw the catalogue on your desk this morning."
"So?" I am at a loss. "You know I don't really want to go there. I've always planned to go to UNM." I pause, in order that what I'm about to say might penetrate more effectively. "So that Mom and Dad could afford to send [I]you[/I] to Columbia."
"Oh please!" Isabel exclaims. "You knew I'd never go, not without you. And now I find out that you can come with me? All this time you've been able to come with me and you never said anything."
I stare at her. "Isabel." I'm not sure why I feel guilty. My sister knows I don't want to go to New York. That's [I]her[/I] dream. My dream has always been a lot closer to home and comes in the delicate, dark-haired shape of Liz Parker. I don't give a damn about college. I really never even considered Manhattan. I know my parents can't afford to send both of us that far, particularly with the price of Isabel's tuition to Columbia.
Even when my sister bailed on Columbia, it never once occurred to me that all it would take to change her mind was for me to go with her.
"Whatever!" Isabel throws her hands up, obviously not wanting to hear anymore. She turns away, trying to pretend that she's not about to burst into tears. 'Tell Mom and Dad I walked home." And, with that, she storms off.
I stand there for several long moments, unsure what to do. Should I go after her? I almost make a move to do so when Michael, who appears abruptly at my elbow says, "Let her go. She needs time to cool off."
"I don't get her at all," I reply, shaking my head. "How is this [I]my[/I] fault?"
"Izzy's battling her demons," Michael shrugs. "She hates being scared, so she's blaming you for the fact that she's not going. It's not your fault, Maxwell."
I know he's right but I still feel terrible for my sister. I had no idea she was this dependent on me.
We stand there in silence for another minute. I absolutely know that I should go after Isabel and, yet, my thoughts are starting to drift towards the Crashdown, where I know Liz's graduation party is probably in full swing by now.
I am such an ass.
My parents come out of the restaurant behind Michael and I. "Where's your sister?" my dad asks, looking around, perplexed.
"I'm here."
I turn my head in surprise, see Isabel walking towards us from the opposite direction to the one from which she left. She looks at me a little sheepishly. I can see that she has indeed cooled off and now feels bad. "I just walked around the block." She pauses, then says in a rush. "Dad, I screwed up."
"What's wrong, honey?" My mom intervenes, my sister's tone obviously putting her instantly on guard.
"I forgot to send in my acceptance to Columbia."
Michael and I exchange a glance. Uh oh. My dad is about to flip his lid.
My mother seems to recognize this too because she turns to me quickly. "Max, I think you and Michael should head over to that party now. Isabel will be there in a little while."
"Iz." I ignore my mother, addressing my sister, really worried now. What the hell is she doing? "What's going on?"
"It's okay, Max," Isabel says calmly. "I should have told them right away."
I look at my father, who is standing with his arms folded, the vein at his temple pulsing in a most disturbing manner. "Dad, it's not her fault," I say quickly.
"Max, go," Isabel snaps. "It's fine."
I grimace. "If you're sure."
Isabel meets my eyes. "Max, you have somewhere to be," she says more softly.
"Are you going to come? After, I mean?"
"Yes," she assures me. "I'll be there."
I scratch my head uncertainly, but start to walk away, following Michael, who doesn't need to be told twice. He hates family confrontations. They rarely occur in my family, but he always disappears immediately if he happens to be around when one rears its ugly head, even if it's about as something as arbitrary as who forgot to empty the dishwasher. I think it's because he sees my family as perfect and he likes it that way. Any slight deviation from his ability to resent me for it undermines his well-ordered universe.
Michael might hate humans and, yet, he envies Isabel and I our parents. We've always known it, but none of us has ever spoken of it. It is a forbidden subject.
I am still fretting about my sister when we arrive at the Crashdown. If you think guys aren't supposed to fret, well, I'm sorry.I fret on a regular basis. Wouldn't you, if you had to deal with Michael and Isabel and their moods, while trying to keep a secret of the magnitude of the one we possess at the same time? For two people who like to stay as unnoticeable as possible, they both have a horrible tendency to cause scenes.
"I can't believe I'm here," Michael mutters as he follows me through the front door. I can barely hear him, what with the pounding music that assaults my ears the instant we enter. It's impossible to even hear myself think, which is probably a good thing.
Too much thinking results in over-thinking things, as Isabel has obviously done with Columbia. And since I can little afford to over-think things at the moment - when I am about to come face to face with Liz Parker, who is still in possession of my yearbook - I'm glad for the distraction.
The restaurant is packed, all the tables that are normally in the center of the room having been pushed to one side to make room for dancing. They are heaped with food. The booths are all full too, piled with members of my graduating class, some even sitting on each other's laps to make more room.
This is not my scene. I can feel myself getting overwhelmed. I have absolutely no desire to talk to any of these people. I haven't spoken to them during my entire high school career. Why the hell would I want to start now?
They do look like they're having fun though. I feel a slight pang, wish that I could be as carefree as these kids I've know most of my life. My sister would be totally at home here, having built herself a place in this world, if even only for her own cryptic reasons.
But I also know that Isabel doesn't find her world very fun either. So maybe I've been right to stay out of all of this.
"I'm out of here!"
I blink, realize that Michael is actually yelling directly into my ear. It is the only way he can possibly be heard.
I am very tempted to follow him when he leaves unceremoniously by the door through which we just arrived. Maybe I can come see Liz tomorrow, get my yearbook back then. It's not like she'll ever notice I didn't show.
[I]But maybe she will.[/I] a small voice in the back of my mind reminds me. [I]You did have a moment.[/I]
I feel my stomach clench at the memory of how she had looked at me under that tree this afternoon. It was only for an instant, but for that one instant she looked at me like she had never seen me before. And that, now that she was actually [I]looking[/I], she liked what she saw.
I'm here. I might as well find her and get this over with. It's not like she hasn't just written something like "Have a Nice Life" after all. I mean, who really puts thought into writing into an almost complete stranger's yearbook? Even if you did maybe, possibly, have a moment, if only in said almost complete stranger's delusional head.
I start to wade through the crowd, grimace when I abruptly hear Kyle Valenti's voice as the music disappears for a moment, whoever's changing the CD obviously not ready for the song to end. "C'mon, Liz! I thought we were going to have one more great night."
Now I don't know Kyle Valenti very well, but even I can hear the sarcasm from a mile away. Every head in the Crashdown whips in the direction of his voice. I follow it too and see Liz seated at the counter, glaring at Kyle in annoyance.
Everyone seems to recover when the music starts again, not nearly so loud this time because it's a slow song. They're all immediately preoccupied with finding someone to dance with (or should I say, make-out with. I may not attend these functions on a regular basis, but I do watch [I]Dawson's Creek[/I]. What can I say? I already told you I'm a WB junkie and it comes on right before [I]Felicity[/I], but again I digress).
Everyone is dancing except Kyle and Liz, who are quite obviously in the throes of a major argument now. I can't help but stare, watch as Kyle throws up his hands in anger and storms away.
He doesn't leave though. I watch Liz watch [I]him[/I] as he goes and grabs Vicky Delaney - from where she's seated on Tommy Dean's lap might I add - and pulls her onto the dance floor.
I feel a flash of anger on Liz's behalf, but when I look back, she doesn't seem upset. She's turned back to whatever has her occupied at the counter.
"She's still writing in your yearbook."
I nearly jump out of my skin, realize that it's Maria, who has appeared magically at my side. She sounds gleeful.
"What?" I say carefully, unsure is she's messing with me or not.
"She [I]is[/I], Max. I've been with her all afternoon. She brought it home, set it on the counter and she's been sneaking glances at it ever since. She's really been thinking about what she wants to write. She finally just sat down with it a few minutes ago."
I don't respond to this. I mean, what is there to say? My entire body is frozen with what might be joy or with what might be absolute, gut-wrenching terror.
"Max?" Maria waves a hand in my face. "Don't you have anything to say?"
"What's wrong with Kyle?" I ask, forcing myself to speak so that I don't come across as any weirder than I already do. I am hoping against hope that he isn't mad at Liz because she's writing in my yearbook when she should be spending time with him. He [I]is[/I] her boyfriend after all. Although considering the way Vicky Delaney is presently draped all over him, maybe he's not anymore.
"Liz told him she's leaving tomorrow," Maria sighs.
"What?" I stare at her, my heart falling to my knees.
Maria nods. "She just found out this morning. She got into a summer bio lab at Harvard. She's starting early."
Now, even though Maria is already aware that I'm a sensitive guy - she does know I watch [I]Felicity[/I] after all - the last thing I want to do is burst into tears right in front of her.
I thought I had a whole summer ahead of me of admiring Liz from afar before having to finally bid good-bye (if only in my head) to my dream girl. And now I'm being informed that this is untrue.
She's leaving tomorrow.
And suddenly she's standing right in front of me.
"Hi, Max!" Liz glances at Maria, obviously a little surprised to see her. "What're you guys talking about?" I've heard that tone from Isabel enough times to know that she's also a little suspicious.
My immediate thought is that Maria told her what she overheard this morning. Oh please, no.
Although, maybe if Maria did tell her.and she's taken so long to decide what to write in my yearbook.
Okay, I'm losing it. Liz is a thoughtful person. It doesn't mean anything that it's taken her all afternoon to decide what to write.
And, the thing is, I trust Maria. I [I]know[/I] she didn't tell Liz. Somehow, I just know it.
Liz is merely suspicious because it is odd that Maria and I are standing here talking. Before this morning, I don't think we've exchanged two words since the sixth grade when we were in that group together doing a book report on [I]The Incredible Journey[/I]. And even then I just sort of sat there and let she and Lana Taylor do all the talking.
"Oh, this and that," Maria replies, waving her hand in the air. She smiles mischievously. "Actually, we were talking about how [I]Felicity[/I] ended. Max watches it you know."
Liz blinks. "You do?" She asks, slightly incredulous.
I sigh wearily. Apparently Maria had decided that if she is going to have to keep quiet about my secret, she at least gets to torture me. "I have a sister," I mutter.
"We all have our guilty pleasures," Maria adds dismissively. "Anyway, are you finally done with that, Lizzie?" I can tell that she is now teasing Liz, feel majorly relieved. "What is it? [I]War and Peace?[/I]"
Liz seems mildly embarrassed. "I've been a little unfocused today," she admits. She looks at me again. "I'm not done yet."
"Oh, well." I can tell that she's uncomfortable and I'm not sure why. I reach out to take the yearbook from her. "Whatever you wrote, I'm sure it's fine."
Liz turns slightly so that I can't grab it. "No!" She exclaims a little too forcefully. I frown, glance at Maria, who looks as perplexed as I feel. "I'm going to finish," she adds firmly. "I'm just going up to my room where I can think. Will you wait?"
Okay, what the heck is happening here? "Um, sure?" The end is raised slightly, like a question, because I have no idea why writing in my yearbook has turned into such a gigantic production.
With that, she turns on her heel and walks away, pushing through the crowd and then through the swinging door which leads into the back of the restaurant. Liz's family lives above it by the way.
"Well, this is interesting."
I look at Maria. She is frowning in the direction in which Liz just disappeared. I can't help it. I have to ask. "What is?"
"Now if I told you, where would be the fun in that?" Is all she says in reply. "Listen, Max, I have to go. I'm singing with Alex's band in a few minutes." She is referring to her other best friend, Alex Whitman, with whom she and Liz have been bosom buddies since fifth grade.
With that, Maria whirls away, leaving me standing there like a big idiot.
I look around, unsure what I am supposed to do. There is no one in the restaurant I am even remotely interested in talking to, but Liz asked me to wait. The mere thought that she is planning to address me again - on purpose - means that I would wait until the end of time.
I inch my way to the counter, sit uncomfortably on a stool, unable to keep my eyes off the swinging door, through which I hope Liz will soon return.
"So it [I]is[/i] you."
I turn my head, stare at Kyle Valenti. He isn't glaring at me exactly, but he doesn't look any too friendly either. He is standing over me in a way that I am pretty sure is meant to be intimidating.
"What is?" I ask, resisting the urge to shrink away. I may be a loner, but I'm not scared of any of these people either. Not physically anyway. In terms of their ability to contact the FBI, maybe.
But I can tell already, this has nothing to do with my secret.
At least not that one.
"You're the reason Liz broke up with me," Kyle snarls.
"I am?" What? [I]What?[/I]
Since I know this is totally untrue, why the hell did my heart just leap with joy? Am I crazy? Or, more accurately, is Kyle crazy? Because this is blatantly ludicrous, in spite of my heart's brief delusion before my brain reprimanded it.
"She ignores everyone all night and then when you show your face, she can't get over here fast enough. Seems a little suspicious to me."
In what psycho universe?
"I think you're mistaken," I say, my voice impressing even me with its calmness. "Liz and I are just friends."
Which is, of course, overstating matters, but whatever. But, for some strange reason, this seems to enrage Kyle even more.
"Friends, huh? She told me you barely knew each other. Funny how this relationship seems to be developing."
Uh oh. His nostrils are flaring. This cannot be a good sign. Nor is the fact that Kyle is now leaning into my face so closely, I can smell the alcohol on his breath.
Here's the thing. As jealous as I am of Kyle Valenti, I know that he is not usually this big of an ass. He's actually a pretty nice guy. Liz wouldn't be going out with him if he wasn't. It's not that I know him particularly well, but just like with Maria, I know him from watching Liz. He's really not a bad person, in spite of what you might expect, what with all the football player stereotypes, most perpetrated by the WB might I add. I may be addicted, but I do recognize its failings too. The miscasting of Superman aside, their biggest crime is the fact that they do generally make student athletes look like fools.
Kyle Valenti is no fool. In spite of the fact that he apparently thinks his girlfriend carries a secret torch for me. Because that is just loony-tunes.
Anyway, none of this helps me out of my current predicament.
The alcohol on his breath was obviously meant to take the edge off of whatever's going on between he and Liz.
Instead, the edge has sharpened. And, somehow, I have ended up poised under the guillotine.
I look around, see that people nearby are beginning to pay attention to what is happening between Kyle and I. My face is starting to burn already, my traitorous body totally unused to being the center of attention.
When the captain of the football team is trying to pick a fight with you, apparently this is what happens. Everyone notices.
"Well, maybe not friends," I backtrack quickly. "Lab partners."
"Is that what they're calling it these days?"
"Um, I'm not sure what's going on here, Kyle," I say, managing to slide off the stool. I feel slightly better as I am taller than him by a good three inches. That doesn't last long though because he doesn't back off. "But you've got this all wrong."
I need out of here. Now. Almost everyone is staring at us, the music gone as Mr. Parker was about to introduce Alex and Maria's band.
"Max, what's going on?"
My relief at the sound of my sister's voice is so great, I literally feel my knees weaken. I glance to the side where she has materialized suddenly, like an avenging angel. She has her arms folded and she is glaring at Kyle.
He stares at her for a full minute, obviously trying to understand what her appearance means through his alcoholic haze. Everyone else seems to get it immediately, because my sister has swept them all with one withering look and they've all turned away.
Now that's power. And they don't even know that there is a [I]real[/I] reason to be scared of Isabel. That she's an alien freak, just like I am.
"Nothing, Iz," I say quickly. "Let's just go."
Kyle has slunk onto the stool I recently vacated and is starting to look like he has lost his best friend. I feel a pang of sympathy in spite of myself. The guy is clearly suffering. It is also blatantly obvious that Liz has indeed dumped him.
But why did he zero in on me?
Needless to say, I'm confused. Did Liz say something to him? Is that why she's taking so long with my yearbook? She's trying to figure out a way to tell me that she likes me just as much as I like her?
For one split second I allow myself the luxury of hope. I allow myself the rush of exhilaration the mere thought of Liz Parker showing a modicum of interest in me engenders.
And then I force it to stop. Because even if it's true, even if Kyle isn't a big drunken idiot, there is absolutely nothing I can do about it.
I can't be with anyone. Not ever. Not even Liz.
It is too late to find out anyway. Because my sister has taken me at my word, has grabbed me by the arm and has pulled me unceremoniously out of the Crashdown.
And, thus, end my high school fantasies of Liz Parker.
Now this isn't as momentous as you might think.
I only say this because when I find my yearbook propped up on my front stoop the next day, it's exactly then that my [I]college[/I] fantasies begin.
Much to my annoyance, we're late for the party. My father insists that we go out for dinner as a family in spite of my mother's certainty that my destined bride is waiting for me at the Crashdown.
And so, here I sit, my leg bouncing impatiently under the table as I watch the waiter ring up our bill as slowly as he possibly can across the restaurant.
Liz Parker is waiting to give me back my yearbook after we had - dare I even think it? But it happened dammit! I know I wasn't imagining things! - a moment under that tree after the graduation ceremony and I'm stuck in Senor Chow's with my parents, my sister and my sullen best friend.
Yes, Michael came too, although I think he regrets it because Isabel won't stop teasing him about Maria. And when I say tease, I mean tease. Like in the most juvenile fashion possible. "Michael and Maria sitting in a tree," she intones, forcing me to shake my head in sympathy at my best friend, whose expression indicates he is barely refraining from blasting her.
And this is the girl who earned early admission to Columbia. Standards have obviously lowered.
Needless to say, my mom just ends up confused. "Wait a minute! Maria likes [I]Michael[/I]?" I can see the disappointment on her face, roll my eyes. "What about Max?"
"What [I]about[/I] Max?" Isabel demands, cracking open her fortune cookie impatiently. My sister is still angry about the Columbia threat and so I am presently enemy number one. The mere mention of my name irritates her. Even though I am sitting right across the table from her, she hasn't spoken to me once.
"I thought Maria asked Max to that party," my mother replies, sighing. She reaches out, pats my hand. "It's okay, sweetie. There are other girls out there."
Isabel is now staring at my mother. "Are you saying that you think Maria has a thing for Max?" She starts to giggle.
I can feel myself starting to get mad. "Is that so impossible to believe, Isabel?" I demand, barely stopping myself from kicking her under the table. I am not five, in spite of the fact that my sister and I are considered twins, share the same birthday, and are supposedly the same age. Only Isabel acts like she's five. But I digress.
"Puh-lease," Isabel says, waving her fortune in the air dismissively.
"He can have her," Michael mutters.
"I don't [I]want[/I] Maria!" I practically bellow. I feel my face redden when the couple at the next table glances over, obviously disturbed.
Okay, so maybe sometimes I do act like I'm five. But only when provoked.
"Oh no," Isabel agrees, the malicious smile on her face sending a shiver down my spine. "We all know who Max wants, don't we?"
Whoa. Something is seriously wrong with my sister. She's never - not once - directed that expression at me. "Excuse us for a moment," I say through gritted teeth, climbing to my feet. "Isabel, I need to speak to you. In private. Now."
"How rude! We're in the middle of a dinner here, Max," Isabel snaps, her dark eyes glittering.
My father intervenes here. "I don't know what's going on between you two," he hisses in an undertone, "But I want you to deal with it. Right now."
"Which is what I'm trying to do, Dad," I say patiently, still staring at Isabel.
She tosses her head. "Oh fine." She flounces to her feet and then flounces out of the restaurant. My sister has perfected the art of flouncing.
"Okay, what the hell is your problem?" I demand the instant we're alone.
"I don't have a problem, Max," Isabel replies. She has her back turned to me, her arms crossed and it is very evident that she has no intention of telling me just why she has been so angry at me all day.
"Isabel!"
She whirls suddenly, glaring. "Why didn't you tell me you got into Manhattan?"
"What?" I have absolutely no idea what's she talking about.
"Manhattan University, Max," my sister repeats slowly, as though I'm two and possibly might not understand large words. "You got in. I saw the catalogue on your desk this morning."
"So?" I am at a loss. "You know I don't really want to go there. I've always planned to go to UNM." I pause, in order that what I'm about to say might penetrate more effectively. "So that Mom and Dad could afford to send [I]you[/I] to Columbia."
"Oh please!" Isabel exclaims. "You knew I'd never go, not without you. And now I find out that you can come with me? All this time you've been able to come with me and you never said anything."
I stare at her. "Isabel." I'm not sure why I feel guilty. My sister knows I don't want to go to New York. That's [I]her[/I] dream. My dream has always been a lot closer to home and comes in the delicate, dark-haired shape of Liz Parker. I don't give a damn about college. I really never even considered Manhattan. I know my parents can't afford to send both of us that far, particularly with the price of Isabel's tuition to Columbia.
Even when my sister bailed on Columbia, it never once occurred to me that all it would take to change her mind was for me to go with her.
"Whatever!" Isabel throws her hands up, obviously not wanting to hear anymore. She turns away, trying to pretend that she's not about to burst into tears. 'Tell Mom and Dad I walked home." And, with that, she storms off.
I stand there for several long moments, unsure what to do. Should I go after her? I almost make a move to do so when Michael, who appears abruptly at my elbow says, "Let her go. She needs time to cool off."
"I don't get her at all," I reply, shaking my head. "How is this [I]my[/I] fault?"
"Izzy's battling her demons," Michael shrugs. "She hates being scared, so she's blaming you for the fact that she's not going. It's not your fault, Maxwell."
I know he's right but I still feel terrible for my sister. I had no idea she was this dependent on me.
We stand there in silence for another minute. I absolutely know that I should go after Isabel and, yet, my thoughts are starting to drift towards the Crashdown, where I know Liz's graduation party is probably in full swing by now.
I am such an ass.
My parents come out of the restaurant behind Michael and I. "Where's your sister?" my dad asks, looking around, perplexed.
"I'm here."
I turn my head in surprise, see Isabel walking towards us from the opposite direction to the one from which she left. She looks at me a little sheepishly. I can see that she has indeed cooled off and now feels bad. "I just walked around the block." She pauses, then says in a rush. "Dad, I screwed up."
"What's wrong, honey?" My mom intervenes, my sister's tone obviously putting her instantly on guard.
"I forgot to send in my acceptance to Columbia."
Michael and I exchange a glance. Uh oh. My dad is about to flip his lid.
My mother seems to recognize this too because she turns to me quickly. "Max, I think you and Michael should head over to that party now. Isabel will be there in a little while."
"Iz." I ignore my mother, addressing my sister, really worried now. What the hell is she doing? "What's going on?"
"It's okay, Max," Isabel says calmly. "I should have told them right away."
I look at my father, who is standing with his arms folded, the vein at his temple pulsing in a most disturbing manner. "Dad, it's not her fault," I say quickly.
"Max, go," Isabel snaps. "It's fine."
I grimace. "If you're sure."
Isabel meets my eyes. "Max, you have somewhere to be," she says more softly.
"Are you going to come? After, I mean?"
"Yes," she assures me. "I'll be there."
I scratch my head uncertainly, but start to walk away, following Michael, who doesn't need to be told twice. He hates family confrontations. They rarely occur in my family, but he always disappears immediately if he happens to be around when one rears its ugly head, even if it's about as something as arbitrary as who forgot to empty the dishwasher. I think it's because he sees my family as perfect and he likes it that way. Any slight deviation from his ability to resent me for it undermines his well-ordered universe.
Michael might hate humans and, yet, he envies Isabel and I our parents. We've always known it, but none of us has ever spoken of it. It is a forbidden subject.
I am still fretting about my sister when we arrive at the Crashdown. If you think guys aren't supposed to fret, well, I'm sorry.I fret on a regular basis. Wouldn't you, if you had to deal with Michael and Isabel and their moods, while trying to keep a secret of the magnitude of the one we possess at the same time? For two people who like to stay as unnoticeable as possible, they both have a horrible tendency to cause scenes.
"I can't believe I'm here," Michael mutters as he follows me through the front door. I can barely hear him, what with the pounding music that assaults my ears the instant we enter. It's impossible to even hear myself think, which is probably a good thing.
Too much thinking results in over-thinking things, as Isabel has obviously done with Columbia. And since I can little afford to over-think things at the moment - when I am about to come face to face with Liz Parker, who is still in possession of my yearbook - I'm glad for the distraction.
The restaurant is packed, all the tables that are normally in the center of the room having been pushed to one side to make room for dancing. They are heaped with food. The booths are all full too, piled with members of my graduating class, some even sitting on each other's laps to make more room.
This is not my scene. I can feel myself getting overwhelmed. I have absolutely no desire to talk to any of these people. I haven't spoken to them during my entire high school career. Why the hell would I want to start now?
They do look like they're having fun though. I feel a slight pang, wish that I could be as carefree as these kids I've know most of my life. My sister would be totally at home here, having built herself a place in this world, if even only for her own cryptic reasons.
But I also know that Isabel doesn't find her world very fun either. So maybe I've been right to stay out of all of this.
"I'm out of here!"
I blink, realize that Michael is actually yelling directly into my ear. It is the only way he can possibly be heard.
I am very tempted to follow him when he leaves unceremoniously by the door through which we just arrived. Maybe I can come see Liz tomorrow, get my yearbook back then. It's not like she'll ever notice I didn't show.
[I]But maybe she will.[/I] a small voice in the back of my mind reminds me. [I]You did have a moment.[/I]
I feel my stomach clench at the memory of how she had looked at me under that tree this afternoon. It was only for an instant, but for that one instant she looked at me like she had never seen me before. And that, now that she was actually [I]looking[/I], she liked what she saw.
I'm here. I might as well find her and get this over with. It's not like she hasn't just written something like "Have a Nice Life" after all. I mean, who really puts thought into writing into an almost complete stranger's yearbook? Even if you did maybe, possibly, have a moment, if only in said almost complete stranger's delusional head.
I start to wade through the crowd, grimace when I abruptly hear Kyle Valenti's voice as the music disappears for a moment, whoever's changing the CD obviously not ready for the song to end. "C'mon, Liz! I thought we were going to have one more great night."
Now I don't know Kyle Valenti very well, but even I can hear the sarcasm from a mile away. Every head in the Crashdown whips in the direction of his voice. I follow it too and see Liz seated at the counter, glaring at Kyle in annoyance.
Everyone seems to recover when the music starts again, not nearly so loud this time because it's a slow song. They're all immediately preoccupied with finding someone to dance with (or should I say, make-out with. I may not attend these functions on a regular basis, but I do watch [I]Dawson's Creek[/I]. What can I say? I already told you I'm a WB junkie and it comes on right before [I]Felicity[/I], but again I digress).
Everyone is dancing except Kyle and Liz, who are quite obviously in the throes of a major argument now. I can't help but stare, watch as Kyle throws up his hands in anger and storms away.
He doesn't leave though. I watch Liz watch [I]him[/I] as he goes and grabs Vicky Delaney - from where she's seated on Tommy Dean's lap might I add - and pulls her onto the dance floor.
I feel a flash of anger on Liz's behalf, but when I look back, she doesn't seem upset. She's turned back to whatever has her occupied at the counter.
"She's still writing in your yearbook."
I nearly jump out of my skin, realize that it's Maria, who has appeared magically at my side. She sounds gleeful.
"What?" I say carefully, unsure is she's messing with me or not.
"She [I]is[/I], Max. I've been with her all afternoon. She brought it home, set it on the counter and she's been sneaking glances at it ever since. She's really been thinking about what she wants to write. She finally just sat down with it a few minutes ago."
I don't respond to this. I mean, what is there to say? My entire body is frozen with what might be joy or with what might be absolute, gut-wrenching terror.
"Max?" Maria waves a hand in my face. "Don't you have anything to say?"
"What's wrong with Kyle?" I ask, forcing myself to speak so that I don't come across as any weirder than I already do. I am hoping against hope that he isn't mad at Liz because she's writing in my yearbook when she should be spending time with him. He [I]is[/I] her boyfriend after all. Although considering the way Vicky Delaney is presently draped all over him, maybe he's not anymore.
"Liz told him she's leaving tomorrow," Maria sighs.
"What?" I stare at her, my heart falling to my knees.
Maria nods. "She just found out this morning. She got into a summer bio lab at Harvard. She's starting early."
Now, even though Maria is already aware that I'm a sensitive guy - she does know I watch [I]Felicity[/I] after all - the last thing I want to do is burst into tears right in front of her.
I thought I had a whole summer ahead of me of admiring Liz from afar before having to finally bid good-bye (if only in my head) to my dream girl. And now I'm being informed that this is untrue.
She's leaving tomorrow.
And suddenly she's standing right in front of me.
"Hi, Max!" Liz glances at Maria, obviously a little surprised to see her. "What're you guys talking about?" I've heard that tone from Isabel enough times to know that she's also a little suspicious.
My immediate thought is that Maria told her what she overheard this morning. Oh please, no.
Although, maybe if Maria did tell her.and she's taken so long to decide what to write in my yearbook.
Okay, I'm losing it. Liz is a thoughtful person. It doesn't mean anything that it's taken her all afternoon to decide what to write.
And, the thing is, I trust Maria. I [I]know[/I] she didn't tell Liz. Somehow, I just know it.
Liz is merely suspicious because it is odd that Maria and I are standing here talking. Before this morning, I don't think we've exchanged two words since the sixth grade when we were in that group together doing a book report on [I]The Incredible Journey[/I]. And even then I just sort of sat there and let she and Lana Taylor do all the talking.
"Oh, this and that," Maria replies, waving her hand in the air. She smiles mischievously. "Actually, we were talking about how [I]Felicity[/I] ended. Max watches it you know."
Liz blinks. "You do?" She asks, slightly incredulous.
I sigh wearily. Apparently Maria had decided that if she is going to have to keep quiet about my secret, she at least gets to torture me. "I have a sister," I mutter.
"We all have our guilty pleasures," Maria adds dismissively. "Anyway, are you finally done with that, Lizzie?" I can tell that she is now teasing Liz, feel majorly relieved. "What is it? [I]War and Peace?[/I]"
Liz seems mildly embarrassed. "I've been a little unfocused today," she admits. She looks at me again. "I'm not done yet."
"Oh, well." I can tell that she's uncomfortable and I'm not sure why. I reach out to take the yearbook from her. "Whatever you wrote, I'm sure it's fine."
Liz turns slightly so that I can't grab it. "No!" She exclaims a little too forcefully. I frown, glance at Maria, who looks as perplexed as I feel. "I'm going to finish," she adds firmly. "I'm just going up to my room where I can think. Will you wait?"
Okay, what the heck is happening here? "Um, sure?" The end is raised slightly, like a question, because I have no idea why writing in my yearbook has turned into such a gigantic production.
With that, she turns on her heel and walks away, pushing through the crowd and then through the swinging door which leads into the back of the restaurant. Liz's family lives above it by the way.
"Well, this is interesting."
I look at Maria. She is frowning in the direction in which Liz just disappeared. I can't help it. I have to ask. "What is?"
"Now if I told you, where would be the fun in that?" Is all she says in reply. "Listen, Max, I have to go. I'm singing with Alex's band in a few minutes." She is referring to her other best friend, Alex Whitman, with whom she and Liz have been bosom buddies since fifth grade.
With that, Maria whirls away, leaving me standing there like a big idiot.
I look around, unsure what I am supposed to do. There is no one in the restaurant I am even remotely interested in talking to, but Liz asked me to wait. The mere thought that she is planning to address me again - on purpose - means that I would wait until the end of time.
I inch my way to the counter, sit uncomfortably on a stool, unable to keep my eyes off the swinging door, through which I hope Liz will soon return.
"So it [I]is[/i] you."
I turn my head, stare at Kyle Valenti. He isn't glaring at me exactly, but he doesn't look any too friendly either. He is standing over me in a way that I am pretty sure is meant to be intimidating.
"What is?" I ask, resisting the urge to shrink away. I may be a loner, but I'm not scared of any of these people either. Not physically anyway. In terms of their ability to contact the FBI, maybe.
But I can tell already, this has nothing to do with my secret.
At least not that one.
"You're the reason Liz broke up with me," Kyle snarls.
"I am?" What? [I]What?[/I]
Since I know this is totally untrue, why the hell did my heart just leap with joy? Am I crazy? Or, more accurately, is Kyle crazy? Because this is blatantly ludicrous, in spite of my heart's brief delusion before my brain reprimanded it.
"She ignores everyone all night and then when you show your face, she can't get over here fast enough. Seems a little suspicious to me."
In what psycho universe?
"I think you're mistaken," I say, my voice impressing even me with its calmness. "Liz and I are just friends."
Which is, of course, overstating matters, but whatever. But, for some strange reason, this seems to enrage Kyle even more.
"Friends, huh? She told me you barely knew each other. Funny how this relationship seems to be developing."
Uh oh. His nostrils are flaring. This cannot be a good sign. Nor is the fact that Kyle is now leaning into my face so closely, I can smell the alcohol on his breath.
Here's the thing. As jealous as I am of Kyle Valenti, I know that he is not usually this big of an ass. He's actually a pretty nice guy. Liz wouldn't be going out with him if he wasn't. It's not that I know him particularly well, but just like with Maria, I know him from watching Liz. He's really not a bad person, in spite of what you might expect, what with all the football player stereotypes, most perpetrated by the WB might I add. I may be addicted, but I do recognize its failings too. The miscasting of Superman aside, their biggest crime is the fact that they do generally make student athletes look like fools.
Kyle Valenti is no fool. In spite of the fact that he apparently thinks his girlfriend carries a secret torch for me. Because that is just loony-tunes.
Anyway, none of this helps me out of my current predicament.
The alcohol on his breath was obviously meant to take the edge off of whatever's going on between he and Liz.
Instead, the edge has sharpened. And, somehow, I have ended up poised under the guillotine.
I look around, see that people nearby are beginning to pay attention to what is happening between Kyle and I. My face is starting to burn already, my traitorous body totally unused to being the center of attention.
When the captain of the football team is trying to pick a fight with you, apparently this is what happens. Everyone notices.
"Well, maybe not friends," I backtrack quickly. "Lab partners."
"Is that what they're calling it these days?"
"Um, I'm not sure what's going on here, Kyle," I say, managing to slide off the stool. I feel slightly better as I am taller than him by a good three inches. That doesn't last long though because he doesn't back off. "But you've got this all wrong."
I need out of here. Now. Almost everyone is staring at us, the music gone as Mr. Parker was about to introduce Alex and Maria's band.
"Max, what's going on?"
My relief at the sound of my sister's voice is so great, I literally feel my knees weaken. I glance to the side where she has materialized suddenly, like an avenging angel. She has her arms folded and she is glaring at Kyle.
He stares at her for a full minute, obviously trying to understand what her appearance means through his alcoholic haze. Everyone else seems to get it immediately, because my sister has swept them all with one withering look and they've all turned away.
Now that's power. And they don't even know that there is a [I]real[/I] reason to be scared of Isabel. That she's an alien freak, just like I am.
"Nothing, Iz," I say quickly. "Let's just go."
Kyle has slunk onto the stool I recently vacated and is starting to look like he has lost his best friend. I feel a pang of sympathy in spite of myself. The guy is clearly suffering. It is also blatantly obvious that Liz has indeed dumped him.
But why did he zero in on me?
Needless to say, I'm confused. Did Liz say something to him? Is that why she's taking so long with my yearbook? She's trying to figure out a way to tell me that she likes me just as much as I like her?
For one split second I allow myself the luxury of hope. I allow myself the rush of exhilaration the mere thought of Liz Parker showing a modicum of interest in me engenders.
And then I force it to stop. Because even if it's true, even if Kyle isn't a big drunken idiot, there is absolutely nothing I can do about it.
I can't be with anyone. Not ever. Not even Liz.
It is too late to find out anyway. Because my sister has taken me at my word, has grabbed me by the arm and has pulled me unceremoniously out of the Crashdown.
And, thus, end my high school fantasies of Liz Parker.
Now this isn't as momentous as you might think.
I only say this because when I find my yearbook propped up on my front stoop the next day, it's exactly then that my [I]college[/I] fantasies begin.