Part 5
~Max~
It has happened so fast, I don't even react right away. One minute Liz and I are actually conversing about something that has nothing to do with Tess Harding, she is laughing, and has taken me by the arm, and everything is entirely rosy in my world. The next, she has been shot. What happens after that is different than I ever would have expected it to be. Not that I have ever really thought about what happens to someone when they get shot, but I'm pretty sure I thought they went flying. Liz doesn't do this though. Instead, she just seems to melt into me. We are both sinking to the ground, and I am staring down at her, unable to even begin to comprehend this turn of events.
I will berate myself about my lack of action later, because what happened to Liz could have been avoided. All I had to do was throw up my hand and we would have both been protected from the bullet that has been shot from that crazy man's gun. The crazy man in black, whom I now barely notice running off, so preoccupied am I by the fact that Liz's blood is soaking my hands.
I could have protected her, but I didn't. I was frozen. Physically, I could not move. I will not forgive myself for this fact - ever.
You have to understand, it wasn't fear that stopped me from making my shield and protecting Liz. That, I think, would be understandable. Not that I really had time to be afraid of what Liz's reaction to my gifts might be. I didn't really have time to be scared of the man in black either, because he never even asked for any money. He just jumped out of the bush and shot Liz. So, no, it wasn't fear.
Instead, it was just plain, old-fashioned shock. I just really could not believe - or even understand - that there was a man in front of us with a gun, and, not just that, he was actually shooting it. One minute, everything was normal. I felt like a regular guy, on a sort of date, with a girl I have had an immense crush on for years. In spite of Liz's many declarations that this is not a date, Maria assured me earlier on the phone that it most certainly was, but that I had to pretend it wasn't. And, then, it just wasn't normal at all anymore.
Now, you might be asking yourself, exactly when did I start talking to Maria Deluca on the phone? Not that it really has anything to do with anything at the moment, but it is sort of ironic that one of her pieces of advice on how I should behave tonight - one I soundly rejected at the time, might I add - is going to come true, all because of a twist of fate. But, I'll get back to that later.
Anyway, Maria started calling me a few weeks ago. I think Alex gave her my number. He told her all about the fiasco in which I had embroiled myself, which started when I told Liz that I have a thing for Tess. I've been trying to get myself out of that mess for close to a month, but Liz has become a woman obsessed. If she wasn't proving it to me herself with her constant suggestions about how I should act around my R.A., then Maria's interfering phone calls certainly would have done the job for her.
The first one came as sort of a surprise. I think the last person I expected on the other end of the line when the phone rang was Maria. I was moping in my room at the time, unsure exactly how to extricate myself from the Liz Parker Matchmaking Service. The horror of it all was that her interest in my love life meant that she wanted to spend time with me, so I also sort of didn't want to get out of it. But, on this particular day, Liz wasn't around, because she was out on a date with Sean. Needless to say, this did not improve my mood.
So, I wasn't particularly friendly when I picked up the phone, pretty sure it was Isabel, who is really the only one who ever calls. Michael doesn't believe in communication of any sort after all, and Alex usually just comes by and pounds on my door.
"What?" I demanded into the receiver, annoyed that my sister still seems to think that twelve phone calls a day is somehow acceptable. I was going to be particularly irritated if she was calling to ask me again if Alex had said anything about her lately. Because he really had no time to in the hour since she last called me.
"Whoa. Having a bad day, girlfriend?" Maria's words, if not her voice, were instantly recognizable.
"Maria?" I was instantly dumbfounded. "Is that you?"
"You can just call me Sally," Maria replied, sounding amused.
"What?"
"I'm calling to give you some advice, dear Felicity."
"Maria, I am not Felicty," I barked, ruder than I meant to be. This wasn't my sister after all. Although the way she's been acting since graduation, and especially since she and Isabel started hanging out, I think she has forgotten this fact.
"Okay, Max. Whatever you say," Maria replied dismissively. "I just called to tell you, whatever you're doing, keep doing it."
I held the receiver away from my ear, and stared at it, as though this would somehow make Maria see my exasperated expression. I pulled it back in, though, curious in spite of myself. "What are you talking about?"
"You heard me. She can't stop talking about you."
"Who?"
"What do you mean who?" Maria huffed. "Liz, of course. Every time I talk to her, all she talks about is you, and the lack of progress she's making with you and Tess."
"And this is somehow a good thing?" I demanded. "She's trying to fix me up with someone else, Maria."
"Max, she never used to talk about you at all."
Well, Maria's bluntness has never been in doubt, has it? "That just warms the heart," I muttered.
"Max, this is a good thing," Maria insisted. "She's jealous and she's trying to pretend she's not. I know how girls think. When we're feeling things we think we shouldn't be feeling, we do the complete opposite of what we want to, if only to prove to ourselves that we're not feeling those things."
This girl is no longer speaking English. And I thought I was the foreigner. "Maria, that makes no sense."
"Max, she likes you. More than she wants to. Trust me. I know, Liz. All she's ever wanted is to get as far away from Roswell as she can, which you represent to her, but she can't stop herself from liking you. She's driving herself nuts. I've called her on it, she denies it. And I know my little chica. The more she denies it, the more it's true." She sounded pleased. "Everything is falling into place. So just keep doing what you're doing. Spend time with her, let her try and set you up with that Tess girl, and she will break."
"I don't want her to break, Maria," I told her firmly.
"Liz is stubborn, Max. Once she has an idea, she's like a dog with a bone. But she's not stupid. She's going to open her eyes soon enough."
"What about Tess?" I demanded. "Isn't this kind of mean to her?"
"Why?" Maria asked suspiciously. "Does she like you?"
I blinked. "I don't know," I replied. "That's what Liz says." Not that I really put much stock in Liz's opinion on this matter. After all, as Maria mentioned, she has tunnel vision about this. I had never really understood why, but what Maria was saying had certainly never dawned on me. She couldn't be right, could she? This didn't mean that everything Liz had said about not liking me that way was untrue?
If so, then there was something very wrong with girls.
Not to mention, the thought that Tess might be interested in me made me uncomfortable. I really liked her, but not the how I liked Liz. And I certainly didn't want to hurt her.
"Well, I'm not saying you should go out with Tess," Maria said. "I'm saying that you should just let Liz keep doing what she's doing. Which, from what Liz has told me, isn't much. She seems to think that Tess thinks that Liz likes you, so she's trying to coach you without getting too involved."
These girls thought that this wasn't getting involved?
My head was spinning. I decided that I was wisest to just say, "Okay," since I really had no idea what Maria had just said.
"So, just keep spending time with her," Maria instructed. "She's falling, Max. I know she is."
After that, she called me once a week, with updates. The latest call had been today, right before I left to pick up Liz for dinner.
"Is it true?" Maria demanded, the instant I picked up.
Since I am so used to her calls by now, I couldn't help but tease her a bit. "Mom?"
"Max!" Maria exclaimed, annoyed. "Did Sean's girlfriend really call?"
"Oh, it's you, Aunt Sally," I said, grinning. I was in a great mood, still on a high from the fact that Liz had actually agreed to go to the party with me, although it wasn't really a date.
"MAX!"
"Yes, she called," I said quickly, grimacing as I held the receiver away from my ear. This happened at least once a phone call. Maria was anything, if not shrill, on occasion. "Is Liz okay?" She had seemed fine when I talked to her in the library. She had taken the whole thing much better than I had ever expected her to, in fact, had seemed completely normal all week.
I really wrestled with whether to tell her about Hannah's call. After all, it was certainly to my benefit that Sean and Liz break up. I didn't want to tell her about Sean's two-timing if it was only for myself. But, in the end, she was my friend. I couldn't not tell her. I had been more willing to risk her anger by interfering, then I had for her to find out on her own and then find out that I had known. The fact that she had called her best friend seemed to imply that Liz was more hurt than she had let on though.
"She's fine," Maria replied impatiently. "She never even called me about it. Alex told me."
"Oh, good," I said, holding the receiver under my chin while I stared into the mirror. I started to mess with my hair. Why was it that it always had the tendency to look like hell just when I wanted it to behave itself? It was at times like these that I missed Isabel's being next door to offer her advice. Having to look after my own appearance is a pain in the ass. I mean, I have no idea what the hell a girl wants a guy to look like.
Not that this was a date. I grinned at myself. Liz could call it whatever she wanted to. As far as my mood was concerned, it was a date.
"Max, this is not the time to make a move," Maria said, so surprising me, I literally dropped the phone.
"What?" I demanded, picking it up again, my heart beating double-time. "What do you mean?"
"You have to just let this happen organically," Maria told me, sounding worried. "Liz has been betrayed. She's vulnerable right now. You don't want her that way."
"I don't?"
"No," Maria insisted. "She has to decide this is what she wants. She's getting there, but she's still denying her feelings to herself. Forcing the issue is just going to make her more stubborn. She's already made one huge life decision this year, changing her entire future by going to Manhattan. I don't think she's quite ready to give up her "No Roswell" rule."
"Maria, her entire life still revolves around Roswell," I reminded her. "She sees me and Alex every day. She talks to you almost that often. She already breaks her stupid rule all the time."
"You and I both know that, Max, but she still hasn't accepted that she can have her grand adventurous life and still be the same person she was here," Maria sighed. "If you push her, she'll run. Damnit!" she wailed. "She was so close. She's barely mentioned Sean lately. I think she was losing interest anyway. Why couldn't it have happened naturally?"
"Are you telling me that I shouldn't be going out with her tonight?" I asked, my disappointment so complete, I have to sit down on my bed.
"Well, it's not a date, is it?"
"She said it wasn't. I agreed."
"You want it to be though, don't you?" Maria's sympathetic tone annoyed me so much, I didn't answer her. I mean, of course I did. "It is you know, Max. I think it is too. You just have to pretend it isn't."
"This is the dumbest thing I've ever heard." Because, really, it was.
"Fine, it's dumb. But, as I said, this is Liz. You don't want to screw this up by moving too quickly. Just make sure nothing romantic happens."
"Maria, I think you're insane," I said.
"What I am is someone who knows Liz," Maria reminded me. "Max, trust me."
I'm beginning to wonder if anyone really knows Liz. I felt like I'd gotten to know her pretty well over the past month. She is a little out of it when it came to my real feelings, yes, but she isn't as out of touch with her own emotions as Maria makes her out to be. In fact, come to think of it, I'm not really sure why I've let Maria talk me into thinking that Liz's obsession with Tess showed that she was interested in me. This made no sense after all. Logically, what it meant was that Liz wanted me to be happy, and since I had told her I liked Tess, she was trying to help me make that happen.
"I'm going, Maria," was all I said. I could feel myself getting mad. She had dashed my hopes, but I was beginning to see that Liz wasn't the crazy one at all. She had only ever been honest with me. She wasn't that upset about Sean, but that didn't mean that she was just going to fall into my arms.
Maria was right about one thing though. I didn't want anything to happen between Liz and me because she had been hurt by Sean. The mere thought was enough to make me ill.
I wanted her to want me. And I wanted her to know it too. Maria saying it was true just wasn't enough anymore.
"Max!" Maria exclaimed. "Just listen, okay? Be yourself. Don't go all boyfriendy on her. Not now. Open up to her, but act like it's just the two of you hanging out as usual. Okay? Will you do that?"
"Maria, I'm not listening you anymore," I informed her. "Say hi to Michael."
This shut her up, allowing me to hang up. I could almost hear her mouth hanging open. Michael and Maria both think that none of us in New York have any idea what's going on with them, which is clearly ridiculous. The fact that Michael even mentions her at all, occasionally, in emails stating how irritating she is, means that they are practically engaged by now.
Anyway, not listening to Maria had been going very well so far tonight. Dammit, this was a date and I was going to act like it was. It had been going well, too, until everything spun so completely out of control.
And, now, here I am, with Liz Parker finally in my arms, but this isn't exactly how I envisioned it. I don't mean to be flippant here - this is an extremely serious situation after all - but you all know I'm not going to let Liz die. Or, at least, I think you know it.
I have mentioned that I have the power to heal, haven't I?
Maria's advice is about to be applied in a way I'm pretty sure she never intended. She wanted me to "open up" to Liz. Well, I have a feeling that, after what's about to happen, Liz'll know pretty much all there is to know about me.
It's terrifying, but it's exhilarating at the same time. What has happened here has brought everything to a head. There will be no more hiding. I'm going to have to make a connection with her to heal her, and she will see inside me in a way no one else ever has.
She's going to know how I feel about her. There's no way to stop that now. Strangely, I'm glad. It's time. I really wish it hadn't taken something as dramatic as a mugging gone bad for me to realize this, but it's true. Liz has the right to know how I feel. Playing games is unfair and I hate it anyway. In the end, it's just not me.
Oh, and, of course, she's also going to find out I'm an alien. But, somehow, this doesn't seem nearly as monumental. Which only demonstrates again how gone I am on this girl - even more so since I've realized she's really kind of weird. Weird is good. I mean, I'm the definition of weird. I need a weird girlfriend.
The man in black is gone by the time I shift Liz in my arms, but I know that the gun-shot is going to bring others out of the trees very soon. Mere seconds have passed since Liz was shot, in spite of all that you've just heard from me, but I still don't have much time.
"Liz," I say urgently. "Liz, you have to look at me."
She is breathing shallowly, but I can tell that she's still conscious. She moans lightly, but her eyelashes flutter. I am already undoing her jacket, then rip the blood-soaked shirt underneath away from the wound.
I feel my hear stop at the sight of her torn up abdomen. A lump enters my throat at the pain she must be in, but it will all be over soon. I place my hand firmly on the bullet-hole, muttering soothing words. "It's okay, Liz. You're going to be okay."
The connection is almost instantaneous. A flurry of images rushes through my mind, but I wade quickly through them, focusing on the healing. I have never been confronted by such physical damage before. The largest thing I have ever healed was a baby bird's wing a long time ago, but I know that I can do this. I do not doubt for an instant that I will be successful. I mean, this is Liz. I will not let her die.
I feel the wound closing under my fingers, aware that Liz's eyes are now fully open, and that she is staring at me. I gently help her to her feet, stumbling a bit as I do. I realize that I am exhausted. Healing her has taken more energy than I have ever expended before.
"Max!" Liz exclaims, grabbing me by the arm. This is reassuring. At least she still wants to touch me. Of course, she could be in shock. Actually, she probably is in shock. I look at her closely, hoping that this will be obvious on her face. Her eyes are wider than usual, but other than that, she just seems kind of breathless as she exclaims, "Are you okay?"
Am I okay? I wasn't the one who was just shot here. This girl is so wonderful, it makes me even more nervous about what she's going to say about all of this. It suddenly dawns on me that it's not tiredness that has made me weak. It's the rush of fear that has started to run through my veins, allowed now that Liz is going to be fine. I have not permitted myself a moment of doubt until this instant, but now it comes upon me, full- force.
Oh my God. What the hell just happened here? What would I have done if I couldn't heal her? What would I have done if she had died? What if she had died and I'd never had a chance to tell her how I feel about her?
What if Liz Parker had suddenly no longer existed?
"Liz." My hand is trembling as I bring it up to touch her face, to reassure myself that she is really okay. I never do answer her question about whether I'm okay. Because, obviously, I'm not. Physically, I am, but emotionally.not so much.
"Max, I'm fine," she says quickly, glancing around nervously. "We need to get out of here!" What has happened to her has clearly not yet registered. She is being far too calm.
"He's gone, Liz," I assure her. "He won't be back."
"I don't care about him, Max," Liz says urgently. "Someone must have heard that gun-shot. How the heck are we going to explain this?" She steps away from me, motions down at her blood-stained clothes, at mine, at the blood that is still dripping from my hands.
"It is almost Halloween," I suggest. Am I insane? Did I really just say that? I am still in shock. There is now no question.
She stares at me. "Sorry," I mutter. "I'm still a little freaked out here."
"I don't blame you," Liz replies. "But, Max, this is serious. We can't just walk away. New Yorkers mind their own business, but they won't ignore this."
She's right of course. I actually can't quite believe no one has come running over yet. We're in the middle of Central Park after all. There is only one thing to do. In for a penny, in for a dollar, I guess.
I reach out, run my hand down Liz's front, unable to remove my eyes from hers. She flinches a little, but then gasps, as the blood on her shirt disappears. I then gently do up the buttons running down the front of her shirt, trying to ignore her soft skin underneath my hands (Hey! I'm a guy! In spite of these dire circumstances, we do tend to have one track minds! Excuse me for living!) I decide that my best bet at the moment is to completely ignore the expression of disbelief on her face. I know she has questions, but now is not the time. I can feel her eyes scalding into me as I clean myself up next.
"Max," she whispers, her voice breaking a little.
"Liz, we need to get out of here," I tell her, taking her firmly by the hand. I am relieved that she doesn't pull away, but I don't put too much store in it. I think she's about to faint. It never even crosses her mind that she shouldn't be touching me.
"Where can we go?" she asks, surprising me by how strong her voice sounds again. I look at her. She is still gazing at me steadily, does not seem a bit afraid. Not of me anyway.
"I don't know," I tell her. Because I don't. Where is the best place to explain to the girl you love that you are an alien? Where is the best place for said girl to come to terms with the fact that she was just shot and that a guy she has known since elementary school simply placed his hands on her and healed her? Oh, and that, in spite of telling her he doesn't for the past month, said guy does in fact adore her with every fibre of his being?
There is a long moment of silence. A jogger passes us, doesn't even look twice. I stare after her, unable to believe that no one is going to even question us about the gun-shot. If I was unsure that I was no longer in Roswell before, this fact finally convinces me. I look at Liz again, and she is staring after the runner too.
"I guess we don't have to go anywhere," Liz finally says. "Unless you want to," she adds quickly. "I mean, apparently this park isn't the safest." She is beginning to sound a bit hysterical. I don't blame her at all. I'm feeling pretty hysterical myself at the moment.
I want this conversation over with. Now that I'm on guard, I can protect us, if I have to. I can't wait through the silence that will be required to get us somewhere else.
"It will be fine," I say. "Let's find a bench."
Moments later, we're sitting side by side. I can't look at her anymore. She has gotten too quiet. It's making me nervous. You'd think that I would have been nervous before this moment, that I might be concerned by her reaction to what happened - to the actual shooting I mean - but I wasn't. I don't know why. I just wasn't. I was more nervous about what she saw in those flashes. As stated, I have a one track mind.
Now that my brain is working again, other thoughts have started to worry me too. Somehow I'm going to have to tell Isabel about this. And Michael. They are going to freak out. After all, it is one thing to start dating humans. It is something completely different to reveal our secret to them. I know in my gut that Liz will deal with this, but I'm not sure either of them will believe it.
I wonder briefly if I should tell Isabel what happened before I tell Liz how it happened. But I know that will be impossible. There is no way that Liz is going to wait that long for an explanation, and I don't really want to wait that long to give it to her. As stated above, I want this over with.
"Max," Liz finally says, making me jump slightly. "How did you.I mean, what happened back there?"
"You were shot, Liz," I say. "And I healed you."
"Well, I know that," Liz replies. "What I mean is, how? How did you heal me?"
"I don't really know," I tell her honestly. "I've just always been able to do it." I grimace slightly, then add, "I'm an alien, Liz. And don't ask me where I came from, or anything like that, because I don't know. All I know is that there was a real UFO crash in 1947 and I'm pretty sure I was in it."
There is another long pause. I expect her to jump to her feet, to exclaim why I'm lying to her, to demand the real truth, and, so I'm completely shocked when Liz starts to laugh. When I look at her strangely, a little concerned that she has momentarily lost her mind at the news that I'm an alien, she just shakes her head at me, not looking at all nuts. "I can't believe this is happening," she explains. "I don't even know what to ask you. I mean, this is crazy. You tell me you're an alien, and I can't even question you. I mean, I believe you, Max. How can I not? And it has nothing to do with the fact that you healed me either."
"What?" I have no idea what she's talking about.
"I've just always known that there was something different about you," Liz explains. "I have to admit that, in spite of where we come from, I never expected it to be something like this." She pauses, then says in a rush, "And even now, I can't care, at all. Because the fact that you healed me is incidental. I can't even believe I'm saying that, but it's true. Max, when you did it, I saw things."
While I had known that this was entirely too large a possibility, the fact that she flat-out admits it, shocks me. I am amazed that I sound as calm as I do when I speak, because my stomach is in knots, and there is a gigantic lump in my throat. "That's because to do what I did, I had to connect with you, Liz," I explain.
"Connect?"
"I can't really tell you what it means, other than I saw your thoughts. And I'm assuming it went the other way too. So, you saw mine."
There is another long silence. Finally, she whispers, "You love me. You've always loved me."
There's no point in denying it. She knows, after all. So, I don't. "Yeah."
"What about Tess?"
"I lied," I say.
She doesn't seem to be waiting for me to admit this though, because her mind is already on something else. She asks, "What did you see from me?" I stare at her, a little amazed that it is only now that she is beginning to sound a little panicked.
"I can't say," I admit. "I didn't pay much attention. I was too focused on healing you." I can see the relief this causes her. She does not want me to know her thoughts. I feel guilty that I'm kind of lying to her, because I'm not being entirely truthful.
Now that I can actually think about what I saw, some of it is coming back to me. A lot of it was pretty confused though. Which, I guess, kind of makes sense, when you think about all the craziness in Liz's life lately. She up and left Harvard, she's been dating a guy who was two-timing her, and she's also been dealing with her parents' disappointment in her, and with her concern that, in spite of getting out, she's never going to truly leave Roswell behind.
That was the one overwhelming thing actually - how much she wants to escape our small town. I never realized how absolutely serious she was about that. Now, I know. And Maria said that, to Liz, I represent Roswell. My heart is sinking already as I reflect on this.
Because, the one thing I have suddenly realized, is that I didn't get any sort of flash about how she feels about me. I wonder if this is because of Maria's assertion that Liz is lying to herself about how she feels about me.
Or, maybe, it's for a reason that makes a whole lot more sense. Maybe I didn't get anything about me from Liz because she doesn't feel much of anything for me at all. She has already soundly rejected me and doesn't even think about me romantically, because I'm from Roswell.
Or maybe she just doesn't think of my romantically at all.
Suddenly, the fact that she knows how I feel about her, isn't such a big relief.
"Max?" Liz breaks the silence that has fallen again, sounding a little frightened now.
"Yeah?"
"Would it be.I mean, would you be really upset, if we didn't talk about this anymore right now? I.I think I need some time to process all of this."
I close my eyes briefly. "Liz, you know you can't tell anyone about this?" I ask. I am, of course, going to let her have her time, but we do need to be clear on that one point.
"I won't," Liz assures me. "I promise. It's.it's not the alien thing that I need to think about," she adds quietly.
"It's not?"
"No." She reaches out, surprises me, by picking up my hand and squeezing. "You're still Max. I've known you practically my entire life. I don't care about that. I mean, it's interesting, but it doesn't change who you are."
See, somehow I have always known that this is how she would react to my big secret. It was why I always dreamed of telling her in high school, and was also one of the reasons I have always liked her so much. Liz Parker is pretty much the most accepting person I have ever known.
The sheer irony of this fact reminds me of something else I saw when Liz and I connected. She accepts others easily, and without prejudice. But, she doesn't accept herself. Not as she is. And that's what is really behind her entire escape from Roswell complex. She doesn't like herself very much. She wants to be someone completely different.
I don't get it at all. How is this possible? Doesn't she understand how great she is? And I can't even tell her. Not now. Not when she's just asked me for time to think things through. If I start waxing poetic (although the mere idea of me being poetic is highly entertaining) about how wonderful I think she is, she's going to think that I'm just trying to convince her to love me back.
Could this possibly get worse?
"I need to be by myself for a while," Liz says quietly. "I'm going back to the dorm."
"Liz, I'm not going to let you go by yourself," I tell her firmly. "Not after what just happened."
"Max, the odds that something like that is going to happen to me again on the same night are pretty small," Liz replies. "I'll be fine."
"Liz, you were shot," I reply. "You shouldn't be alone tonight. And you're not going home alone either."
She sighs. "How about if I get a cab? Will that be okay?"
No, but I can see that she's not giving in. "Fine," I say. "But what about being alone?"
"I thought you said I couldn't talk to anyone about this?" she reminds me.
"Well, that's different from being by yourself."
"Max." She is clearly frustrated. I don't blame her. I'm feeling pretty confused and frustrated myself right about now.
"I think you should tell Charlotte you were mugged," I insist. "You might have post-traumatic stress syndrome or something."
"I'll tell her that if you want me to," Liz replies. "But I'm really fine." She looks away for a moment. "You saved my life. Thank you for that."
I can't help it. I say, quite honestly, "You know I wasn't just doing it for you."
"I know."
We have started to walk. We're now back on the street. Liz hails a cab. It screeches to a halt next to the curb. I can't quite believe that I'm letting her just walk away like this, but I know that I also don't really have much of a say in it.
Even though she now knows my secret - in fact, she now knows both of them - I realize that I don't feel any closer to her. In fact, it as if whatever slight bond we have created in the past month is gradually fraying. As I watch the cab pull away, I realize that she is now further out of my reach than ever before.
It isn't because I'm an alien either. It's because she's not in love with me. And, now, she knows that I will never love anyone else.
To be continued.
~Max~
It has happened so fast, I don't even react right away. One minute Liz and I are actually conversing about something that has nothing to do with Tess Harding, she is laughing, and has taken me by the arm, and everything is entirely rosy in my world. The next, she has been shot. What happens after that is different than I ever would have expected it to be. Not that I have ever really thought about what happens to someone when they get shot, but I'm pretty sure I thought they went flying. Liz doesn't do this though. Instead, she just seems to melt into me. We are both sinking to the ground, and I am staring down at her, unable to even begin to comprehend this turn of events.
I will berate myself about my lack of action later, because what happened to Liz could have been avoided. All I had to do was throw up my hand and we would have both been protected from the bullet that has been shot from that crazy man's gun. The crazy man in black, whom I now barely notice running off, so preoccupied am I by the fact that Liz's blood is soaking my hands.
I could have protected her, but I didn't. I was frozen. Physically, I could not move. I will not forgive myself for this fact - ever.
You have to understand, it wasn't fear that stopped me from making my shield and protecting Liz. That, I think, would be understandable. Not that I really had time to be afraid of what Liz's reaction to my gifts might be. I didn't really have time to be scared of the man in black either, because he never even asked for any money. He just jumped out of the bush and shot Liz. So, no, it wasn't fear.
Instead, it was just plain, old-fashioned shock. I just really could not believe - or even understand - that there was a man in front of us with a gun, and, not just that, he was actually shooting it. One minute, everything was normal. I felt like a regular guy, on a sort of date, with a girl I have had an immense crush on for years. In spite of Liz's many declarations that this is not a date, Maria assured me earlier on the phone that it most certainly was, but that I had to pretend it wasn't. And, then, it just wasn't normal at all anymore.
Now, you might be asking yourself, exactly when did I start talking to Maria Deluca on the phone? Not that it really has anything to do with anything at the moment, but it is sort of ironic that one of her pieces of advice on how I should behave tonight - one I soundly rejected at the time, might I add - is going to come true, all because of a twist of fate. But, I'll get back to that later.
Anyway, Maria started calling me a few weeks ago. I think Alex gave her my number. He told her all about the fiasco in which I had embroiled myself, which started when I told Liz that I have a thing for Tess. I've been trying to get myself out of that mess for close to a month, but Liz has become a woman obsessed. If she wasn't proving it to me herself with her constant suggestions about how I should act around my R.A., then Maria's interfering phone calls certainly would have done the job for her.
The first one came as sort of a surprise. I think the last person I expected on the other end of the line when the phone rang was Maria. I was moping in my room at the time, unsure exactly how to extricate myself from the Liz Parker Matchmaking Service. The horror of it all was that her interest in my love life meant that she wanted to spend time with me, so I also sort of didn't want to get out of it. But, on this particular day, Liz wasn't around, because she was out on a date with Sean. Needless to say, this did not improve my mood.
So, I wasn't particularly friendly when I picked up the phone, pretty sure it was Isabel, who is really the only one who ever calls. Michael doesn't believe in communication of any sort after all, and Alex usually just comes by and pounds on my door.
"What?" I demanded into the receiver, annoyed that my sister still seems to think that twelve phone calls a day is somehow acceptable. I was going to be particularly irritated if she was calling to ask me again if Alex had said anything about her lately. Because he really had no time to in the hour since she last called me.
"Whoa. Having a bad day, girlfriend?" Maria's words, if not her voice, were instantly recognizable.
"Maria?" I was instantly dumbfounded. "Is that you?"
"You can just call me Sally," Maria replied, sounding amused.
"What?"
"I'm calling to give you some advice, dear Felicity."
"Maria, I am not Felicty," I barked, ruder than I meant to be. This wasn't my sister after all. Although the way she's been acting since graduation, and especially since she and Isabel started hanging out, I think she has forgotten this fact.
"Okay, Max. Whatever you say," Maria replied dismissively. "I just called to tell you, whatever you're doing, keep doing it."
I held the receiver away from my ear, and stared at it, as though this would somehow make Maria see my exasperated expression. I pulled it back in, though, curious in spite of myself. "What are you talking about?"
"You heard me. She can't stop talking about you."
"Who?"
"What do you mean who?" Maria huffed. "Liz, of course. Every time I talk to her, all she talks about is you, and the lack of progress she's making with you and Tess."
"And this is somehow a good thing?" I demanded. "She's trying to fix me up with someone else, Maria."
"Max, she never used to talk about you at all."
Well, Maria's bluntness has never been in doubt, has it? "That just warms the heart," I muttered.
"Max, this is a good thing," Maria insisted. "She's jealous and she's trying to pretend she's not. I know how girls think. When we're feeling things we think we shouldn't be feeling, we do the complete opposite of what we want to, if only to prove to ourselves that we're not feeling those things."
This girl is no longer speaking English. And I thought I was the foreigner. "Maria, that makes no sense."
"Max, she likes you. More than she wants to. Trust me. I know, Liz. All she's ever wanted is to get as far away from Roswell as she can, which you represent to her, but she can't stop herself from liking you. She's driving herself nuts. I've called her on it, she denies it. And I know my little chica. The more she denies it, the more it's true." She sounded pleased. "Everything is falling into place. So just keep doing what you're doing. Spend time with her, let her try and set you up with that Tess girl, and she will break."
"I don't want her to break, Maria," I told her firmly.
"Liz is stubborn, Max. Once she has an idea, she's like a dog with a bone. But she's not stupid. She's going to open her eyes soon enough."
"What about Tess?" I demanded. "Isn't this kind of mean to her?"
"Why?" Maria asked suspiciously. "Does she like you?"
I blinked. "I don't know," I replied. "That's what Liz says." Not that I really put much stock in Liz's opinion on this matter. After all, as Maria mentioned, she has tunnel vision about this. I had never really understood why, but what Maria was saying had certainly never dawned on me. She couldn't be right, could she? This didn't mean that everything Liz had said about not liking me that way was untrue?
If so, then there was something very wrong with girls.
Not to mention, the thought that Tess might be interested in me made me uncomfortable. I really liked her, but not the how I liked Liz. And I certainly didn't want to hurt her.
"Well, I'm not saying you should go out with Tess," Maria said. "I'm saying that you should just let Liz keep doing what she's doing. Which, from what Liz has told me, isn't much. She seems to think that Tess thinks that Liz likes you, so she's trying to coach you without getting too involved."
These girls thought that this wasn't getting involved?
My head was spinning. I decided that I was wisest to just say, "Okay," since I really had no idea what Maria had just said.
"So, just keep spending time with her," Maria instructed. "She's falling, Max. I know she is."
After that, she called me once a week, with updates. The latest call had been today, right before I left to pick up Liz for dinner.
"Is it true?" Maria demanded, the instant I picked up.
Since I am so used to her calls by now, I couldn't help but tease her a bit. "Mom?"
"Max!" Maria exclaimed, annoyed. "Did Sean's girlfriend really call?"
"Oh, it's you, Aunt Sally," I said, grinning. I was in a great mood, still on a high from the fact that Liz had actually agreed to go to the party with me, although it wasn't really a date.
"MAX!"
"Yes, she called," I said quickly, grimacing as I held the receiver away from my ear. This happened at least once a phone call. Maria was anything, if not shrill, on occasion. "Is Liz okay?" She had seemed fine when I talked to her in the library. She had taken the whole thing much better than I had ever expected her to, in fact, had seemed completely normal all week.
I really wrestled with whether to tell her about Hannah's call. After all, it was certainly to my benefit that Sean and Liz break up. I didn't want to tell her about Sean's two-timing if it was only for myself. But, in the end, she was my friend. I couldn't not tell her. I had been more willing to risk her anger by interfering, then I had for her to find out on her own and then find out that I had known. The fact that she had called her best friend seemed to imply that Liz was more hurt than she had let on though.
"She's fine," Maria replied impatiently. "She never even called me about it. Alex told me."
"Oh, good," I said, holding the receiver under my chin while I stared into the mirror. I started to mess with my hair. Why was it that it always had the tendency to look like hell just when I wanted it to behave itself? It was at times like these that I missed Isabel's being next door to offer her advice. Having to look after my own appearance is a pain in the ass. I mean, I have no idea what the hell a girl wants a guy to look like.
Not that this was a date. I grinned at myself. Liz could call it whatever she wanted to. As far as my mood was concerned, it was a date.
"Max, this is not the time to make a move," Maria said, so surprising me, I literally dropped the phone.
"What?" I demanded, picking it up again, my heart beating double-time. "What do you mean?"
"You have to just let this happen organically," Maria told me, sounding worried. "Liz has been betrayed. She's vulnerable right now. You don't want her that way."
"I don't?"
"No," Maria insisted. "She has to decide this is what she wants. She's getting there, but she's still denying her feelings to herself. Forcing the issue is just going to make her more stubborn. She's already made one huge life decision this year, changing her entire future by going to Manhattan. I don't think she's quite ready to give up her "No Roswell" rule."
"Maria, her entire life still revolves around Roswell," I reminded her. "She sees me and Alex every day. She talks to you almost that often. She already breaks her stupid rule all the time."
"You and I both know that, Max, but she still hasn't accepted that she can have her grand adventurous life and still be the same person she was here," Maria sighed. "If you push her, she'll run. Damnit!" she wailed. "She was so close. She's barely mentioned Sean lately. I think she was losing interest anyway. Why couldn't it have happened naturally?"
"Are you telling me that I shouldn't be going out with her tonight?" I asked, my disappointment so complete, I have to sit down on my bed.
"Well, it's not a date, is it?"
"She said it wasn't. I agreed."
"You want it to be though, don't you?" Maria's sympathetic tone annoyed me so much, I didn't answer her. I mean, of course I did. "It is you know, Max. I think it is too. You just have to pretend it isn't."
"This is the dumbest thing I've ever heard." Because, really, it was.
"Fine, it's dumb. But, as I said, this is Liz. You don't want to screw this up by moving too quickly. Just make sure nothing romantic happens."
"Maria, I think you're insane," I said.
"What I am is someone who knows Liz," Maria reminded me. "Max, trust me."
I'm beginning to wonder if anyone really knows Liz. I felt like I'd gotten to know her pretty well over the past month. She is a little out of it when it came to my real feelings, yes, but she isn't as out of touch with her own emotions as Maria makes her out to be. In fact, come to think of it, I'm not really sure why I've let Maria talk me into thinking that Liz's obsession with Tess showed that she was interested in me. This made no sense after all. Logically, what it meant was that Liz wanted me to be happy, and since I had told her I liked Tess, she was trying to help me make that happen.
"I'm going, Maria," was all I said. I could feel myself getting mad. She had dashed my hopes, but I was beginning to see that Liz wasn't the crazy one at all. She had only ever been honest with me. She wasn't that upset about Sean, but that didn't mean that she was just going to fall into my arms.
Maria was right about one thing though. I didn't want anything to happen between Liz and me because she had been hurt by Sean. The mere thought was enough to make me ill.
I wanted her to want me. And I wanted her to know it too. Maria saying it was true just wasn't enough anymore.
"Max!" Maria exclaimed. "Just listen, okay? Be yourself. Don't go all boyfriendy on her. Not now. Open up to her, but act like it's just the two of you hanging out as usual. Okay? Will you do that?"
"Maria, I'm not listening you anymore," I informed her. "Say hi to Michael."
This shut her up, allowing me to hang up. I could almost hear her mouth hanging open. Michael and Maria both think that none of us in New York have any idea what's going on with them, which is clearly ridiculous. The fact that Michael even mentions her at all, occasionally, in emails stating how irritating she is, means that they are practically engaged by now.
Anyway, not listening to Maria had been going very well so far tonight. Dammit, this was a date and I was going to act like it was. It had been going well, too, until everything spun so completely out of control.
And, now, here I am, with Liz Parker finally in my arms, but this isn't exactly how I envisioned it. I don't mean to be flippant here - this is an extremely serious situation after all - but you all know I'm not going to let Liz die. Or, at least, I think you know it.
I have mentioned that I have the power to heal, haven't I?
Maria's advice is about to be applied in a way I'm pretty sure she never intended. She wanted me to "open up" to Liz. Well, I have a feeling that, after what's about to happen, Liz'll know pretty much all there is to know about me.
It's terrifying, but it's exhilarating at the same time. What has happened here has brought everything to a head. There will be no more hiding. I'm going to have to make a connection with her to heal her, and she will see inside me in a way no one else ever has.
She's going to know how I feel about her. There's no way to stop that now. Strangely, I'm glad. It's time. I really wish it hadn't taken something as dramatic as a mugging gone bad for me to realize this, but it's true. Liz has the right to know how I feel. Playing games is unfair and I hate it anyway. In the end, it's just not me.
Oh, and, of course, she's also going to find out I'm an alien. But, somehow, this doesn't seem nearly as monumental. Which only demonstrates again how gone I am on this girl - even more so since I've realized she's really kind of weird. Weird is good. I mean, I'm the definition of weird. I need a weird girlfriend.
The man in black is gone by the time I shift Liz in my arms, but I know that the gun-shot is going to bring others out of the trees very soon. Mere seconds have passed since Liz was shot, in spite of all that you've just heard from me, but I still don't have much time.
"Liz," I say urgently. "Liz, you have to look at me."
She is breathing shallowly, but I can tell that she's still conscious. She moans lightly, but her eyelashes flutter. I am already undoing her jacket, then rip the blood-soaked shirt underneath away from the wound.
I feel my hear stop at the sight of her torn up abdomen. A lump enters my throat at the pain she must be in, but it will all be over soon. I place my hand firmly on the bullet-hole, muttering soothing words. "It's okay, Liz. You're going to be okay."
The connection is almost instantaneous. A flurry of images rushes through my mind, but I wade quickly through them, focusing on the healing. I have never been confronted by such physical damage before. The largest thing I have ever healed was a baby bird's wing a long time ago, but I know that I can do this. I do not doubt for an instant that I will be successful. I mean, this is Liz. I will not let her die.
I feel the wound closing under my fingers, aware that Liz's eyes are now fully open, and that she is staring at me. I gently help her to her feet, stumbling a bit as I do. I realize that I am exhausted. Healing her has taken more energy than I have ever expended before.
"Max!" Liz exclaims, grabbing me by the arm. This is reassuring. At least she still wants to touch me. Of course, she could be in shock. Actually, she probably is in shock. I look at her closely, hoping that this will be obvious on her face. Her eyes are wider than usual, but other than that, she just seems kind of breathless as she exclaims, "Are you okay?"
Am I okay? I wasn't the one who was just shot here. This girl is so wonderful, it makes me even more nervous about what she's going to say about all of this. It suddenly dawns on me that it's not tiredness that has made me weak. It's the rush of fear that has started to run through my veins, allowed now that Liz is going to be fine. I have not permitted myself a moment of doubt until this instant, but now it comes upon me, full- force.
Oh my God. What the hell just happened here? What would I have done if I couldn't heal her? What would I have done if she had died? What if she had died and I'd never had a chance to tell her how I feel about her?
What if Liz Parker had suddenly no longer existed?
"Liz." My hand is trembling as I bring it up to touch her face, to reassure myself that she is really okay. I never do answer her question about whether I'm okay. Because, obviously, I'm not. Physically, I am, but emotionally.not so much.
"Max, I'm fine," she says quickly, glancing around nervously. "We need to get out of here!" What has happened to her has clearly not yet registered. She is being far too calm.
"He's gone, Liz," I assure her. "He won't be back."
"I don't care about him, Max," Liz says urgently. "Someone must have heard that gun-shot. How the heck are we going to explain this?" She steps away from me, motions down at her blood-stained clothes, at mine, at the blood that is still dripping from my hands.
"It is almost Halloween," I suggest. Am I insane? Did I really just say that? I am still in shock. There is now no question.
She stares at me. "Sorry," I mutter. "I'm still a little freaked out here."
"I don't blame you," Liz replies. "But, Max, this is serious. We can't just walk away. New Yorkers mind their own business, but they won't ignore this."
She's right of course. I actually can't quite believe no one has come running over yet. We're in the middle of Central Park after all. There is only one thing to do. In for a penny, in for a dollar, I guess.
I reach out, run my hand down Liz's front, unable to remove my eyes from hers. She flinches a little, but then gasps, as the blood on her shirt disappears. I then gently do up the buttons running down the front of her shirt, trying to ignore her soft skin underneath my hands (Hey! I'm a guy! In spite of these dire circumstances, we do tend to have one track minds! Excuse me for living!) I decide that my best bet at the moment is to completely ignore the expression of disbelief on her face. I know she has questions, but now is not the time. I can feel her eyes scalding into me as I clean myself up next.
"Max," she whispers, her voice breaking a little.
"Liz, we need to get out of here," I tell her, taking her firmly by the hand. I am relieved that she doesn't pull away, but I don't put too much store in it. I think she's about to faint. It never even crosses her mind that she shouldn't be touching me.
"Where can we go?" she asks, surprising me by how strong her voice sounds again. I look at her. She is still gazing at me steadily, does not seem a bit afraid. Not of me anyway.
"I don't know," I tell her. Because I don't. Where is the best place to explain to the girl you love that you are an alien? Where is the best place for said girl to come to terms with the fact that she was just shot and that a guy she has known since elementary school simply placed his hands on her and healed her? Oh, and that, in spite of telling her he doesn't for the past month, said guy does in fact adore her with every fibre of his being?
There is a long moment of silence. A jogger passes us, doesn't even look twice. I stare after her, unable to believe that no one is going to even question us about the gun-shot. If I was unsure that I was no longer in Roswell before, this fact finally convinces me. I look at Liz again, and she is staring after the runner too.
"I guess we don't have to go anywhere," Liz finally says. "Unless you want to," she adds quickly. "I mean, apparently this park isn't the safest." She is beginning to sound a bit hysterical. I don't blame her at all. I'm feeling pretty hysterical myself at the moment.
I want this conversation over with. Now that I'm on guard, I can protect us, if I have to. I can't wait through the silence that will be required to get us somewhere else.
"It will be fine," I say. "Let's find a bench."
Moments later, we're sitting side by side. I can't look at her anymore. She has gotten too quiet. It's making me nervous. You'd think that I would have been nervous before this moment, that I might be concerned by her reaction to what happened - to the actual shooting I mean - but I wasn't. I don't know why. I just wasn't. I was more nervous about what she saw in those flashes. As stated, I have a one track mind.
Now that my brain is working again, other thoughts have started to worry me too. Somehow I'm going to have to tell Isabel about this. And Michael. They are going to freak out. After all, it is one thing to start dating humans. It is something completely different to reveal our secret to them. I know in my gut that Liz will deal with this, but I'm not sure either of them will believe it.
I wonder briefly if I should tell Isabel what happened before I tell Liz how it happened. But I know that will be impossible. There is no way that Liz is going to wait that long for an explanation, and I don't really want to wait that long to give it to her. As stated above, I want this over with.
"Max," Liz finally says, making me jump slightly. "How did you.I mean, what happened back there?"
"You were shot, Liz," I say. "And I healed you."
"Well, I know that," Liz replies. "What I mean is, how? How did you heal me?"
"I don't really know," I tell her honestly. "I've just always been able to do it." I grimace slightly, then add, "I'm an alien, Liz. And don't ask me where I came from, or anything like that, because I don't know. All I know is that there was a real UFO crash in 1947 and I'm pretty sure I was in it."
There is another long pause. I expect her to jump to her feet, to exclaim why I'm lying to her, to demand the real truth, and, so I'm completely shocked when Liz starts to laugh. When I look at her strangely, a little concerned that she has momentarily lost her mind at the news that I'm an alien, she just shakes her head at me, not looking at all nuts. "I can't believe this is happening," she explains. "I don't even know what to ask you. I mean, this is crazy. You tell me you're an alien, and I can't even question you. I mean, I believe you, Max. How can I not? And it has nothing to do with the fact that you healed me either."
"What?" I have no idea what she's talking about.
"I've just always known that there was something different about you," Liz explains. "I have to admit that, in spite of where we come from, I never expected it to be something like this." She pauses, then says in a rush, "And even now, I can't care, at all. Because the fact that you healed me is incidental. I can't even believe I'm saying that, but it's true. Max, when you did it, I saw things."
While I had known that this was entirely too large a possibility, the fact that she flat-out admits it, shocks me. I am amazed that I sound as calm as I do when I speak, because my stomach is in knots, and there is a gigantic lump in my throat. "That's because to do what I did, I had to connect with you, Liz," I explain.
"Connect?"
"I can't really tell you what it means, other than I saw your thoughts. And I'm assuming it went the other way too. So, you saw mine."
There is another long silence. Finally, she whispers, "You love me. You've always loved me."
There's no point in denying it. She knows, after all. So, I don't. "Yeah."
"What about Tess?"
"I lied," I say.
She doesn't seem to be waiting for me to admit this though, because her mind is already on something else. She asks, "What did you see from me?" I stare at her, a little amazed that it is only now that she is beginning to sound a little panicked.
"I can't say," I admit. "I didn't pay much attention. I was too focused on healing you." I can see the relief this causes her. She does not want me to know her thoughts. I feel guilty that I'm kind of lying to her, because I'm not being entirely truthful.
Now that I can actually think about what I saw, some of it is coming back to me. A lot of it was pretty confused though. Which, I guess, kind of makes sense, when you think about all the craziness in Liz's life lately. She up and left Harvard, she's been dating a guy who was two-timing her, and she's also been dealing with her parents' disappointment in her, and with her concern that, in spite of getting out, she's never going to truly leave Roswell behind.
That was the one overwhelming thing actually - how much she wants to escape our small town. I never realized how absolutely serious she was about that. Now, I know. And Maria said that, to Liz, I represent Roswell. My heart is sinking already as I reflect on this.
Because, the one thing I have suddenly realized, is that I didn't get any sort of flash about how she feels about me. I wonder if this is because of Maria's assertion that Liz is lying to herself about how she feels about me.
Or, maybe, it's for a reason that makes a whole lot more sense. Maybe I didn't get anything about me from Liz because she doesn't feel much of anything for me at all. She has already soundly rejected me and doesn't even think about me romantically, because I'm from Roswell.
Or maybe she just doesn't think of my romantically at all.
Suddenly, the fact that she knows how I feel about her, isn't such a big relief.
"Max?" Liz breaks the silence that has fallen again, sounding a little frightened now.
"Yeah?"
"Would it be.I mean, would you be really upset, if we didn't talk about this anymore right now? I.I think I need some time to process all of this."
I close my eyes briefly. "Liz, you know you can't tell anyone about this?" I ask. I am, of course, going to let her have her time, but we do need to be clear on that one point.
"I won't," Liz assures me. "I promise. It's.it's not the alien thing that I need to think about," she adds quietly.
"It's not?"
"No." She reaches out, surprises me, by picking up my hand and squeezing. "You're still Max. I've known you practically my entire life. I don't care about that. I mean, it's interesting, but it doesn't change who you are."
See, somehow I have always known that this is how she would react to my big secret. It was why I always dreamed of telling her in high school, and was also one of the reasons I have always liked her so much. Liz Parker is pretty much the most accepting person I have ever known.
The sheer irony of this fact reminds me of something else I saw when Liz and I connected. She accepts others easily, and without prejudice. But, she doesn't accept herself. Not as she is. And that's what is really behind her entire escape from Roswell complex. She doesn't like herself very much. She wants to be someone completely different.
I don't get it at all. How is this possible? Doesn't she understand how great she is? And I can't even tell her. Not now. Not when she's just asked me for time to think things through. If I start waxing poetic (although the mere idea of me being poetic is highly entertaining) about how wonderful I think she is, she's going to think that I'm just trying to convince her to love me back.
Could this possibly get worse?
"I need to be by myself for a while," Liz says quietly. "I'm going back to the dorm."
"Liz, I'm not going to let you go by yourself," I tell her firmly. "Not after what just happened."
"Max, the odds that something like that is going to happen to me again on the same night are pretty small," Liz replies. "I'll be fine."
"Liz, you were shot," I reply. "You shouldn't be alone tonight. And you're not going home alone either."
She sighs. "How about if I get a cab? Will that be okay?"
No, but I can see that she's not giving in. "Fine," I say. "But what about being alone?"
"I thought you said I couldn't talk to anyone about this?" she reminds me.
"Well, that's different from being by yourself."
"Max." She is clearly frustrated. I don't blame her. I'm feeling pretty confused and frustrated myself right about now.
"I think you should tell Charlotte you were mugged," I insist. "You might have post-traumatic stress syndrome or something."
"I'll tell her that if you want me to," Liz replies. "But I'm really fine." She looks away for a moment. "You saved my life. Thank you for that."
I can't help it. I say, quite honestly, "You know I wasn't just doing it for you."
"I know."
We have started to walk. We're now back on the street. Liz hails a cab. It screeches to a halt next to the curb. I can't quite believe that I'm letting her just walk away like this, but I know that I also don't really have much of a say in it.
Even though she now knows my secret - in fact, she now knows both of them - I realize that I don't feel any closer to her. In fact, it as if whatever slight bond we have created in the past month is gradually fraying. As I watch the cab pull away, I realize that she is now further out of my reach than ever before.
It isn't because I'm an alien either. It's because she's not in love with me. And, now, she knows that I will never love anyone else.
To be continued.