Part Three

It's almost dark when I return to our motel room and there is no sign of Max anywhere. Exhausted, I drop my shopping bags on the floor next to my bed and flop backwards onto the mattress. I reach over, grab the TV remote from the table, and begin channel hopping.

Fifteen minutes later, the door opens and a dishevelled Max comes into view. I eye him curiously and raise an eyebrow at his appearance.

He looks down for a second, then grins sheepishly and shrugs.

"Sorry about earlier, Liz. It's just…I didn't wake up in the best mood this morning. I didn't mean to take it out on you," he apologises and then holds up the carrier bag he's holding. "Peace offering?"

I grin and roll my eyes, "Hey, it's no big deal. Really," I dismiss, but I know he saw my eyes light up at the prospect of finding out what's in the bag. "On second thoughts, " I add, "What d'ya get me?"

"Us. What did I get us?" he corrects. "First off, we've got your favourite take out meal, Sweet 'n' Sour Chicken, followed by two big slices of…Double Chocolate Fudge Cake," he says, grinning triumphantly as I let out a squeal of pleasure. "And last, but not least," he reaches into the bag, pulling out a six-pack. "Beer!"

"Max! How in the hell did you get beer?" I cry. "You're only eighteen, how did you manage that one?"

"Well," for a second, he looks like he doesn't want to tell me and I fear the worst, but then he changes his mind and what comes out of his mouth is the last thing I expect to hear. "I kind of ran into that Aiden guy at the supermarket down the road, and we got to talking. You know, he's not really that bad a guy," I roll my eyes at his reluctant expression. "Anyway, I apologised for the way I greeted him this morning and next thing I know, he's buying beer for us!"

All I can do us laugh at the incredulous look on his face as he tells me this. He looks like a little boy who's just received his Christmas presents early. I roll my eyes at him again and pat the bed next to me, inviting him to sit down.

"We good?" he asks as he sits down.

I nod. "We're good," I tell him and reach for the bag of food.

Three beers each and the whole bag of food later, Max and I are lying next to each other on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. My head is spinning slightly, but in a good way, and my arms and legs are all warm and tingly from the alcohol.

It's not like I've never been drunk before, though. I've been to parties with my friends, had a few drinks and ended up making out with the odd random guy occasionally, but I've never been drunk with just Max before, in a calm setting like this and it's a little weird.

"God, I'm stuffed," groans Max from beside me, his hand covering his stomach.

"Hmm," I mumble in agreement, not having the energy to avert my eyes from staring at the ceiling and look at him. "That was a lot of food," I sigh.

"But it was good food," he interjects. "And drink," he adds after a beat.

"Yeah," I sigh and we lapse back into silence again.

I close my eyes and relax, ready to fall asleep. Just as I begin to doze off, I hear a loud thump, followed by a muffled yelp. My eyes fly open at the sound, but when I spot the cause of it, I burst out laughing.

There's Max on the floor, one arm hooked over the side of the bed, attempting to pull himself up. Only the top of his head and his eyes are visible.

"Oh my God, Max!" I exclaim when I've recovered from my outburst and he's managed to hoist himself back up onto the bed. "What did you just do?"

He's blushing with embarrassment as he shakes his head and I almost feel bad for him. Almost. But seeing him sitting helplessly on the floor just now, brought back memories of all the stupid things I've done in the past that he's laughed at, like tripping over my new long black skirt in the middle of English class or dropping a whole plate of food into the lap of my 8th grade crush when I first began helping out my parents in the Crashdown, and I just can't find it in me to sympathise with him right now.

"Yeah, yeah, just laugh it up, why don't you, Parker?" he huffs, but his words are slightly slurred and he's having trouble getting readjusted on the bed without slipping back off again.

I try to hide my smile behind my hand, but from the offended look on his face, I know I'm not being very discreet.

I remove my hand from my mouth. "Sorry, it's just, that was so funny!" I exclaim. "It's nice to see you being the clumsy one for once, Max."

"Hmmph," he grunts, crossing his arms across his chest as his lips form a pout. He's now staring intently at the TV screen, which I know is his way of trying to pretend that I'm not there.

I take the opportunity to study his profile, the alcohol in my body making me see him in a different light. He looks so adorable sitting there, slouching like a defiant young boy, his bottom lip sticking out defiantly.

I let my eyes travel over his features; the long, dark eyelashes that any girl would kill for, the cute little ears that have always stuck out slightly at the top, the straight, masculine nose and the incredibly full lips that are all too often pulled into a mischievous smirk.

My gaze ends up fixed on his short, slightly spiked hair. It just looks so soft and I imagine that it would be all silky and smooth if I were to run my fingers through it. Those three cans of beer must have really gone to my head, because now I find myself reaching out to touch it, feeling its texture as my hand slides through the short strands.

Just as I've buried my fingers in the hair above his forehead, I feel him jerk beneath my touch and too late, I realise what I'm doing. He turns to face me and I begin to make my apologies.

I get no further than, "Sorr –" before my voice trails off and my hand slips down to cup his ear and the upper part of his jaw. He has this strange look on his face again and I don't really know what it means. All I know is that now my eyes are locked completely with his and I can't look away.

"Lizzie," he whispers softly and I feel his hand on my bare arm, stroking it gently. The movement of his hand causes a shiver to run all the way up my arm. Before I have time to think about what's happening, Max is lowering his head towards mine and all I can register is the fact that those full lips are just millimetres from my own.

I don't know what's going on here. I'm not attracted to Max; I've never been attracted to him. Ever. So why is my heart suddenly beating so fast? Why have my palms just now become sweaty? My tongue sneaks out to lick my lips in anticipation.

Oh my God! Is the last thought that goes through my mind before the feeling of Max's soft warm lips on mine takes over completely.

My left hand is still resting against his face, my thumb stroking his slightly stubbly cheek. I bring my right hand up to the other side of his face and then cup his jaw with both hands. Max's left hand is still caressing my arm, but now his other hand is buried in my hair, supporting my head, tilting it up so that I meet his lips fully.

I feel his tongue tracing my lower lip, sending tingles down my spine. I've kissed enough guys before to know what that means, what he wants and I open my mouth slightly, allowing him access.

I practically sigh as his tongue slides in to tangle with mine. My arms have now made their way up and around his neck and I pull him to me tightly. No one has ever kissed me like this before; no one has ever made me feel like this before. Not even Kyle, and we were together for months. I have to say that now at least I know one reason for all the female attention that Max seems to get…

He is a great kisser.

Max has moved his hand from my arm to my lower back. Right now, his fingers are tracing small circles there and it feels…I can't even describe it. It's luxurious. I just want to stay like this forever, wrapped up in my best friend's arms.

Wait. Best friend. Max is my best friend! What am I thinking? I can't do this!

As much as I don't want to right now, I force myself to loosen my arms around his neck and break the kiss, pulling away slightly as I do.

"Liz," I feel Max's breath close to my lips as he whispers my name, but all I can think is that this was a really stupid thing to do. My eyes slide open and I extract myself from his arms.

"I…umm…I need to get ready for bed," I mumble. I can't bring myself to look at him; I'm afraid that if I do, I will make a complete fool of myself and blow this whole situation out of proportion. I slide off the bed and grabbing my nightclothes, I stumble towards the bathroom.

Once inside, with the door locked behind me, I sink down onto the lid of the toilet, my head in my hands. God, what did I just do? What did we just do? My head is spinning and I'm beginning to feel sick; the beer is really not agreeing with me now.

Pushing all thoughts of Max and that amazing kiss to the back of my mind, I take my time changing and brushing my teeth, dreading the moment when I'll have to leave the safety of this bathroom and face him again.

I needn't have worried, though, because when I finally pluck up the courage to unlock the door and emerge from the bathroom, I find that Max has already passed out on his own bed, although on closer inspection, it appears that he was either too tired or too drunk to bother changing properly, since his jeans have been haphazardly dropped to the floor, but he is still clothed in the same T-shirt he's been wearing all day.

I shuffle over to my bed, the bed we were both occupying just a few short minutes ago and climb in, pulling the covers right up to my chin. With one last glance at Max, I reach over and switch off the light, sending the room into complete darkness as I fall into a restless slumber.

Max is already up and out of bed when I wake after my crappy night's sleep. I crack open one eye to see him packing his bags and trying (unsuccessfully, I might add) to make his bed at the same time. I let out a low groan as I pull myself up into a sitting position. My head is simultaneously pounding and spinning and I have no idea if I'll be able to make it to the bathroom without throwing up.

I carefully ease myself out of the bed and stumble towards the bathroom, too embarrassed to acknowledge Max on my way. When I reach the bathroom, I practically fall against the sink, using my hands to support my body and keep it upright. It's not fair! Why me? Max doesn't seem to be suffering with a hangover this morning; although, it's probably because he's more used to drinking beer than I am. Me? I'm usually a white wine and cocktails kind of a girl.

I wonder what he's thinking about this whole situation right now. I mean, how am I supposed to act around him now? Do I just pretend that nothing happened between us last night; that everything's normal? On the other hand, do I try to talk to him about it?

One thing I do know, is that it shouldn't have happened and it wouldn't have happened if it weren't for Max bringing back that beer last night.

I also know that it can't happen again. He's my best friend, it just wouldn't be right.

Well, it's official. Sunday June 29th 2002 has been the most awkward and uncomfortable day of my life.

I have just survived almost eight hours alone in a car with Max, driving to San Diego. It should have only taken us about five-and-a-half hours, but stupid me decided that I was feeling well enough to drive (since it was my turn really) and ended up taking a wrong turn and getting us completely lost.

On top of all that, I've had to deal with the weight of Max's stare, which I've been feeling on me almost all day, and all these awkward moments when we both reached for the radio dial or a handful of potato chips at the same time, our hands brushing accidentally as we did.

I was too chicken to say anything to him before we left Scottsdale this morning. I probably should have brought it up with him, but I just couldn't pluck up the courage to do so and now I think I've made the whole situation much worse. Max has barely said two words to me all day, at least not anything that hasn't involved talking about stopping for food or complaining about the fact that I went the wrong way.

We finally reach the motel that we booked into before we left Roswell and I see that it's not nearly as nice as I'd hoped. It's not in a particularly nice area of San Diego – a fact proved by the adult entertainment bar/venue that is situated across the road, less than fifty yards from our hotel building.

Despite the area that we've ended up staying in, it's still not yet dark when we arrive and since neither Max nor I are in the mood for fatty, fried food, we set off on foot in search of a nicer place to grab some dinner.

We eventually find a Subway and order sandwiches, deciding to carry them back to the hotel before we eat. The journey there is spent in tense silence, neither of us saying a word to each other, but after we've ordered our food and start heading back, Max finally breaks the silence.

"Liz," he says quietly, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. I don't notice immediately that he is no longer walking with me and continue on regardless. "Liz," this time it's louder and more forceful and his arm shoots out to stop me. At the feel of his warm hand on my arm again, eerily mirroring his actions from last night, a ping shoots through me and I get this awful, anxious feeling in my chest. I force myself to remain calm, however, and slowly turn to face him.

He had this pleading look on his face and I can sense that whatever he's about to say is important.

"Max?" I question.

"Liz, I'm sorry," he blurts out quickly.

I don't understand, "Sorry? What for?"

He runs his free hand through his hair, frustrated. "For last night," he confesses. "I didn't mean to…If I hadn't brought that beer back…" he struggles for a second, eventually deciding on, "I'm sorry, I was in a bad place yesterday. I was having a bad day, I was feeling vulnerable and then you were there and – " he stops, letting out a sigh. "I'm just sorry, okay?" he finishes, removing his hand from my arm.

"But – " But you weren't the one who started it. I was. It's on the tip of my tongue to say, but for some reason I just can't get the words out. Saying them would imply that I might have some kind of feelings for him, and I don't. Have feelings, that is. I never have. "Okay," I sigh, agreeing with him.

"So," Max concludes. "Can we just forget about it? Pretend it never happened? We'll just think of it as a momentary lapse in judgement and leave it at that, alright?"

I smile weakly, "Alright," I nod and then ask, just to be sure, "Friends?" I hold out my hand for him to shake.

He smiles properly, taking my hand and nodding, "Friends."

We shake on it and then begin making our way back to the motel. We walk in silence again, but now the tension is gone.

I'm dying to ask him exactly what got him into that bad mood yesterday. I realised that something wasn't right with him when he was rude to Aiden when they met. He's never acted that way in the entire time I've known him, which leads me to believe that something happened to upset him. But, I can sense that tonight is not a good time to bring it up.

Maybe tomorrow.

I don't get to talk to him tomorrow, though.

We spend the entire day sightseeing. We visit downtown San Diego and the Harbour area in the morning and the world famous San Diego Zoo in the afternoon. Nothing out of the ordinary happens while we're out and Max seems to be back to his usual joking self and although the normal, easy atmosphere usually present between us isn't quite back to normal, it's pretty close.

However, despite the fact that we were joking around again, as if nothing had happened the other night, I can tell that Max is completely avoiding the whole subject. He's deliberately leaving anyone's thoughts or feelings out of our conversations and only concentrating on the here and now; making lewd comments about the animals in the zoo and laughing at me when I drop my entire ice cream cone on the floor and in the process, splatter my nice, new, pale-blue top with half-melted chocolate ice cream.

I don't have the opportunity to talk to him properly until Tuesday.

Day 9 - Tuesday July 1st 2002

I had a great time today - we went to Sea World! I'd been to the one in Florida with my aunt, but Max had never visited it before and we had fun exploring all the different sea creatures and watching the seal and dolphin shows. Max even dared me to walk through the Great White Shark tunnel, which I'd refused to do at the park in Florida. It wasn't that bad really, but I got my own back!

On another note, I finally found out what was bothering Max on Saturday. We were sitting there, at Sea World, waiting for the Shamu show to begin and he just blurted it out. I'd noticed that he'd been distracted most of today. He spent half the time snapping at me for no apparent reason and the other half just being his normal self; and now I know why…

Six hours earlier

"Okay, Max, I walked through the shark tunnel for you; now it's my turn to choose where we go," I grab his hand and drag him towards my destination.

He gasps when he sees where we're heading and tries to pull away from me. "Aww, come on, Liz. You can't make me go over there! I won't do it," he warns, but I just keep tugging him along regardless.

"Hey," I turn to him. "You made me do something I didn't want to do; now you're going to do this for me. Think of it as payback," I smirk.

He turns his head fearfully towards the creatures currently residing in the pen in front of us and I have to bit my lip to contain a giggle.

Who would've guessed that Max Evans was scared of sea lions!

However, I know I'm the only person he's ever confessed his phobia to and I've been sworn to secrecy; not even his parents or Isabel know.

I force him to stand there and watch the animals as young kids and their parents dangle fish over the side, feeding them. I tease him about the fact that he can barely even look at them, let alone hold fish in front of their noses, but I worry that I've taken it too far when he suddenly shakes his arm, freeing it from my grasp and stalks off in the opposite direction.

"Max!" I call as I run after him. "Max, I'm sorry," I touch his arm from behind and make him turn to face me. "I didn't mean – "

However, he cuts me off, "That's just it, Liz! You never mean to do anything, it always just happens!" he bursts out. He takes a deep breath and runs his hand through his hair, "Look, I know I shouldn't have made you go in that tunnel, but come on, Liz, I know you enjoyed it, really. You know how terrified I am of those...creatures," he shudders, "But you just couldn't leave it alone, could you?" his eyes are accusing and suddenly I feel about six inches tall.

"I'm sorry, okay?" I don't really know what else I can say.

He just nods stiffly and suggests, "I just need some time alone, Liz. I have a lot on my mind right now. How about we part ways for now and meet up again at four for the Shamu show?"

"Fine," I sigh. I don't really want to spent the next hour wandering around her on my own, but I can see that Max isn't the best company right now and maybe it would be best to give him some space for a while. I paste a smile onto my face, "I'll see you at four then, Max."

He gives me a small, appreciative smile before turning to walk away again. As I watch him leave, I realise that I really do need to talk to him and get him to open up to me about what's been bothering him lately.

It's just gone four when I finally make it to the whale pool for the Shamu show. As I approach the entrance, I see Max already standing there waiting for me. The previous tension in his shoulders seems to have disappeared and he looks more relaxed now. When I reach him, he gives me a sheepish smile and links our arms. We make our way into the standing area and as we spot somewhere to sit, he leans down and giving my arm a squeeze, he says softly, "I'm sorry about earlier, Lizzie. I didn't mean to get angry with you, it was my problem and I took it out on you. Can you forgive me?"

I smile up at him and squeeze his arm in response. "You're forgiven, Max," I tell him. "Just don't let it happen again," I say sternly, but with a wink, so he knows I'm just teasing.

We take our seats, but a quick glance at the time has me wondering why exactly we decided to meet at four. The show doesn't start until almost five. When I lean in to ask Max this, he just shrugs and mumbles something about wanting to get good seats, although he does look a little embarrassed that we're here so early.

Ten minutes later, I'm so engrossed in the pre-show advertising and information that's showing on the big screen in front of us that I almost jump out of my skin when Max's voice suddenly sounds from beside me.

"Tess called me," he states bluntly and I whip my head round to face him in bewilderment. "On Saturday," he elaborates. "Tess called me. She said something that upset me. That's why I've been in a bad mood lately."

My mouth forms a surprised 'oh', but I don't say anything yet. I'm just glad that he's telling me this.

"I didn't mean to take it out on you, Liz," the apologetic expression on his face is sincere. "It's just…I don't know what to do about Tess."

"What did she say to you, Max?" I question tensely. I think now might be the time for me to step up to do my best friend duty and have a little chat with the ex.

Max averts his gaze from me and looks out over the killer whale's water tank. "She's pregnant."

TBC…