Chapter Four

The name of the game, for Max, was moderation. Baby steps. Neither was he overly buffering his hyper-sensitivity nor was he inserting himself too forwardly into the normal teenage life he had hidden away from for so long. Total immersion would have been a culture shock, not to mention the fact that more than a few eyebrows would have been raised by his rapid turnabout, especially with no outward warning or explanation for his sudden and total personality shift. So, he kept his drinking to a minimum – sips here and there between classes just to take the edge off of the mental and emotional torture which used to be his life, and he made small changes to his behavior and habits, slowly adjusting to the newly found freedom alcohol allowed him and allowing his fellow classmates and teachers to acclimate themselves without noticing that anything was overtly different.

So far, it had been three weeks. In that time, Max had stopped finding empty classrooms to eat his lunch alone in. Now, he ventured out into the courtyard. Though he still didn't sit or talk with anyone else, his presence was now felt, and he found it fascinating to watch his fellow teenagers. Granted, he had been watching Liz for years, but that habit was for personal enjoyment; his new tendency to observe had less to do with actual interest and more to do with curiosity. He had been outside of society for so long, Max had quickly realized that he didn't really know how it worked. So he watched, and he studied, and he memorized all in preparation, for soon he would start to mimic those universally accepted behaviors. Yes, drinking was going to allow him to come out of his shell, but he wasn't looking for even more notoriety – albeit this time for an entirely different reason. No, Max's plan was to blend in by being average... well, mostly average. He still had to maintain his grades in order to remain in all of the same classes as Liz and to remain her lab partner, and there was a part of him which, just once, wanted to best Kyle Valenti, to put the conceited, overly-praised jock in his place.

But that would come later. First and foremost, Max had other battles to wage and win. To both please his mom and make his entrance into the social aspects of high school more seamless, he had started to attend meetings with the school's guidance counselor. Together, they were sorting through college options, working on applications, and determining ways in which Max could show that, though a late bloomer – the guidance counselor's words, not his, he could still be an integral part of any campus' student life. So, now he was a member of the National Honor Society, he had joined the environmental club, and he was even on a committee which planned the senior class' trip. It didn't hurt matters that Liz belonged to every single one of his extracurriculars as well, only she was a member of several additional groups and clubs as well. Now that he was more visible in a very muted way, Max's next step was to attempt conversations with his classmates, perhaps even form a friendship or two. The only problem was that there was only one person he was interested in befriending... and he wasn't sure if he could separate and keep private his deeper feelings for Liz if he was allowed to spend actual time with her. The temptation she posed to him was simply that great.

As he sat pondering the object of his affections, she walked – or, more accurately, steamrolled through the door to their shared psychology classroom, bogged down with her always bulging book bag, a stack of barely contained papers, and several rolled up posters which were almost as big as she was. She looked harried as well – her cheeks flushed, her hair awry, and her gaze overwhelmed. It was shocking to see her in such a state, for Liz was always so poised and polished, so put together. Not that it dulled Max's regard for her any – he was pretty sure nothing ever could, but, still, his own thoughts immediately disappeared, and he became concerned for his dreamgirl.

Standing up, he shuffled in place, pushing his hands into and then pulling them out of his jeans' pockets, unsure of what to do or what to say. Eventually, as she approached him and the table they shared with a third student who was either absent, late for class, or just plain skipping (much to Max's pleasure), he found himself ineptly sighing her name, "Liz...," a question lingering in his tone but going unvoiced.

Like always, though, Liz smoothed over his inadequacies. "Ugh," she groaned, lifting her arms in the classic gesture of weight transfer. Automatically, he took her papers from her, papers he quickly noticed were flyers advertising a student council dance, and she began to talk. "Hi, Max, and thanks. I've just had it with today already, you know? If you hadn't been standing there, waiting to help, I'm pretty sure I just would have said 'forget this,' dropped all my stuff, and had myself a good cry. I mean, this is psychology class. If there was ever a proper place to have a mini-meltdown in school, I think this would be it, don't you?"

Wanting to alleviate as much of her stress as possible and take advantage of the window of opportunity for conversation she had presented him with, Max swiftly placed her stack of flyers on the opposite side of their table, far from where they sat next to each other, before turning back to her. As he then lifted the posters and banners from her grasp, putting them on the long window ledge behind them, he inanely asked, "bad day?"

But Liz didn't take offense to his obvious question. In fact, she rolled her eyes and offered him the sweetest, wryest smirk he had ever seen. "Yeah, you could say that, Mr. King-of-the-understatement." If he didn't have such keen senses, even dulled as they currently were, Max probably would have disbelieved his own ears. As he stood there, awkwardly staring at her as Liz maneuvered her backpack off her shoulders, down onto the floor, and then collapsed into her chair, she was playfully teasing him. Unable to blink in fear that the scene before him would fade away and prove to be the fantasy he suspected it was, Max lowered himself to his own chair as Liz explained. "I'm exaggerating, though. The day was fine up until lunch."

"But we didn't have to stay over to finish our physics lab," he prompted.

When she offered him a second, less humorous smile, Max had to hold onto the table before him so that he didn't fall out of his seat and completely make a fool of himself. "Believe it or not, those are my favorite lunches. At least then I get a chance to actually eat; at least then I'm not besieged by a dozen different people who need me to do something for them; at least then I can avoid Maria's latest crisis of the hour."

He decided to tackle the easiest problem to fix for her first. "You didn't eat lunch?"

"No time," Liz answered, shrugging. "I know it's not the healthiest thing to do, but, when you're running from meeting to meeting, from task to task, eating's just not practical. I tried once to snack on something – I don't know, it was an apple, or a pear, or something along those lines – while I was in the office making copies, and Mrs. Norman, the secretary, just about had a cow, because she was afraid I'd drip juice or something onto the fax machine and that I'd fry the equipment. I tried to tell her how ridiculous that was... you know, in a very compassionate and tactful way, but she just ripped up my hall pass and told me to leave and not come back until I could properly respect her and her office equipment."

She rolled his eyes, and Max chuckled at her story, well aware, even as the resident school hermit, just how intolerant Mrs. Norman was and just how much slack the principle granted her. Rumor had it he was just as afraid of the middle aged woman as all of the students and faculty were. Then, with a quick glance at their otherwise occupied teacher – despite the bell having rung several minutes before, it was evident that class wouldn't be starting for several more, Max decided to do something he had never done before so out in the open: he used his powers to surreptitiously change several everyday school supplies into food for Liz.

With his own tentative grin, he offered, "while it's nothing gourmet and certainly not nearly as appetizing as anything that comes off of the CrashDown's menu, I have some leftover lunch if you want it." He placed a banana, celery sticks with peanut butter and raisons, and turkey with pepper jack roll-ups before her.

"Max, I can't take your food."

"Oh, I already ate," he reassured her. "My mom's a little insane when it comes to feeding me. I think it's a combination of the fact that she still sees me as this skinny, scrawny kid they found out in the desert, and her Southern upbringing. She shows her love through food, which means I always have more lunch than any one person could ever eat. In fact," he rushed on, figuring that he might as well say as much as he could before he lost his nerve, "anytime you can't eat during lunchtime, just let me know. That way, I won't waste so much food, and you won't have to skip a meal. We'll both win."

And the best thing was that Max wasn't lying. Oh, sure. He had alien-voodooed the food into being, but his mother really did overfeed everyone she loved. Before all the changes in his life, he had routinely had several items leftover from his packed lunches. It was only now that he was attempting to blend in and eating in the quad with the other students that Max found himself consuming everything that his mother sent with him – not because the sudden immersion into teenage life was making him hungrier but because, due to his nerves and not wanting to stick out like a sore thumb, he spent the entire duration of his lunch period eating. Basically, he was lucky that his alien constitution made worrying about his physical health unnecessary.

Hesitantly, Liz reached for the banana while double checking, "are you sure, Max?"

"It'd be my pleasure," he assured her, and then rushed to add, flushing bright scarlet, especially his suddenly fiery and burning ears, "I mean, you know... it's no big deal. We're lab partners, right?"

So serious she made his heart stand still for several minutes, Liz contradicted, "no, Max. We're friends." And then she reached across the table and squeezed his right hand with her left, leaving his skin tingling in pleasure. Even after she pulled away, he swore he could feel the ghost of her touch warming him from the outside in. "And thanks," Liz added, granting him yet another warm, sweet smile.

As she started to eat, though, he thought of one last thing he could do for her. Grabbing the water bottle from his book bag, the bottle that contained anything but water, Max quickly re-altered the molecules before handing it to her. "Here, you might need this, too," he told her, "especially after you eat those roll-ups. I tend to, uh... I like spicy food, so the cheese is hot."

"Just the way I like it," she assured him, winking playfully, and, with that one gesture, suddenly, the pepper jack wasn't the only thing on fire.

In that moment, sitting next to Liz, talking to Liz, being teased by Liz, Max wasn't sure how much longer he could take his plan slowly.

; : ;

"Oh!" Maria dropped her heavy book bag onto the floor of the CrashDown. "My!" Then she slammed her purse onto the swivel stool next to the one she had selected to plonk herself in. "God!" The high-strung blonde finished, emphasizing her drawn out, emphatic exclamation by slapping her hands against the bar counter.

Having already had her best friend's attention since she had boldly waltzed through the diner's front door, Max had to hold back a snicker from where he stood outside watching the scene taking place before him. While Liz's frustration was evident, so, too, was Maria's absolute obliviousness.

"Detention was that amazing, huh," his dreamgirl asked laconically. "And what's with all the books? You never do your homework."

Maria idly waved off the inquiry. "Seligman happened. Apparently, painting one's nails is not appropriate during detention. I tried to tell him that it was career research, but he confiscated my favorite: OPI Gargantuan Grape. I mean, how rude was that?!"

"Oh, totally rude."

Not recognizing the sarcastic tone in her best friend's voice, Maria breezed on. Despite the fact that she also worked at the cafe and should have recognized the necessity for discretion and holding one's conversations in a more muted tone, the feisty blonde steamrolled into her next topic, talking loud enough so that the entire diner could hear everything she was saying. Meanwhile, Liz simply remained patient. It was evident to Max that she was quite experienced and adept at dealing with her rather unique counterpart.

"Anyway, that's not why I had to stop by to talk to you."

"Maria, what is it? Is something wrong?"

"Yes, yes, yes multiplied by infinity yes! Something is definitely wrong. It's like... it's like the world has turned upside down or something on me, and I no longer recognize this place in which we live."

Calmly, Liz responded, "alright, you're starting to make me worry here."

"Oh, babe, you should be scared. I'm talking apocalyptic levels of creepy here."

With furrowed brow, Liz asked, "have you been spending more time with your mom recently?"

"My mom," Maria parroted. "What does she have to do with anything? Besides the fact that she's going to be pissed that I got another detention, so, besides the fact that I was dragging my feet at school not wanting to go home, she has nothing to do with this."

"So, whatever this... freak out is, it has to do with school?"

Max watched as his dreamgirl's best friend dramatically took a deep breath as if bracing herself. Then, she placed a protective hand over her heart. "Chica, you might want to take a seat."

"I'm fine standing," Liz quickly responded. "Besides the fact that, if you haven't noticed yet, I'm working right now and not on my break, I have a feeling that you might just be over-reacting a little bit."

"Please? Me? Over-react? You're not talking to Whitman here, Liz."

Discretely, he heard her mumble under her breath, "if only I was."

After not hearing her best friend's complaint, Maria launched into her tale... after only having taken five minutes to lead up to the story. "Anyway, after detention, I was minding my own business, you know... dragging my feet so I didn't have to go home and face Drill Sergeant DeLuca, and you'll never guess what was going on in the gym."

"First of all, the gym is all the way on the other side of the building from Mr. Seligman's room. You weren't minding your own business, Maria; you were off nosing around. And, secondly, they were holding basketball tryouts in the gym today."

Gasping, Maria asked, "how do you know that?"

"They've only been advertising them for two weeks over the PA system during home room announcements." If it wouldn't have been beneath her, Max could have sworn he heard a 'duh' attached to the end of Liz's statement.

"Well, seeing as how your good buddy and not-so-secret admirer lab partner was there, I just thought that maybe he told you about the tryouts."

"Wait? Max tried out for the basketball team?"

"Hello, babe," Maria tossed her hands up in frustration. "That's what I've been trying to tell you for like hours here. Now, do you realize why I'm a little off my game this afternoon?"

"Well, did he make it?"

The blonde stared at Liz for several unblinking moments. "Are you telling me that you actually think I should have stayed around to watch life as we know it come to a screeching halt? It was bad enough having to see Max Evans in nothing but a pair of loose shorts run circles around our school's all-county point protector."

"You mean point guard," Liz interrupted.

But Maria simply waved off her comment, rolling her eyes. "So not what matters here," she complained.

"So then you didn't like seeing Max without his shirt on?" From where he stood eavesdropping, Max couldn't help but chuckle at his dreamgirl's obvious confusion.

"Well, no, of course not," Maria countered, horrified. "He's... I-Eat-Paint-Chips-Evans! He's not supposed to have a better body than Kyle."

"Maria, Max doesn't eat paint chips," Liz scolded her best friend.

"Ha! How would you know?"

"Because she shares his lunch with me all the time." When her best friend gaped at her, mouth hanging open like a wriggling fish on a hook, Liz explained, "you know how busy my schedule is, and sometimes I don't have time to eat lunch. So, after lunch period, he'll save me some of his food to eat during psychology class." She blushed then, and he felt a pleasant warmth suffuse his entire body. "It's really quite sweet."

"Yeah. Until it's revealed that he's been slowly poisoning you this whole time." Skewering her, Maria demanded, "Liz, didn't your mother ever teach you not to take candy from future mass murderers?"

Just like that, he saw a switch go off in Liz. She went from patient to barely restrained annoyance. "That's enough! I've asked you before to stop harassing Max, Maria. You don't know him, so don't pretend as though you have a right to judge him."

"I'm sorry," her best friend apologized hastily, but Max detected a definite lack of sincerity. "But, babe, come on. You have to admit that it's weird that the same guy I once questioned whether or not he even had a tongue is now trying out for the basketball team."

"I don't think it's weird, Maria; I think it's great. Kyle and his buddies need to be put in their place. If Max can do that by showing them that they're not as great as they all think they are, then more power to him." As Liz continued to sing his praises, Max prepared himself. After weeks of actually holding conversations with his dreamgirl, he was ready to take the next step. Plus, what better way to celebrate making the team than to spend his evening in Liz's presence inside of the diner. So, to brace himself, he pulled his water bottle out of his bag and took a hefty drink of the disguised, burning liquor. Fortified he strolled into the restaurant. "... more importantly, becoming involved in school is good for Max. He's brilliant, Maria, and he deserves to go to an excellent college. This should help him..."

As Liz's words trailed away, Maria stood so as to get closer to her best friend, snapping her fingers to reclaim Liz's attention. "Hello, Earth to Planet Parker. Want to finish that thought there, Chica?"

"Hey, Max," Liz greeted him instead.

Beside him, Maria gasped, tripped off the side of her stool, barely managed to right herself before making an even bigger scene, and went pasty pale. Ignoring the blonde, though, he returned, "hey, Liz."

"So, I hear congratulations are in order," his dreamgirl praised him. "Are you here to treat yourself?"

"Maybe later," Max shrugged. "Unless... are you on your break now?"

"No, not for at least another couple of hours. I close tonight."

"That's fine," he told her. "I can wait."

Finally regaining control of herself, Maria interjected, "um, excuse me! We were having a conversation here before you oh-so-rudely interrupted us!"

Ignoring her, he continued, "I was hoping to try one of those alien blasts you've told me so much about, but, being on the team now, I need to watch my figure," he teased Liz, making her laugh and loving the fact that his newly found freedom from the constraints of his other-worldly senses allowed him to do so. "So, I thought maybe we could share one. Plus," he nervously rushed on to add, "I also need to keep my grades up, so we could study for our physics test coming up next week."

"Definitely," Liz agreed, smiling broadly.

"Hello! I'm still here," Maria voiced her disapproval.

"Umm... why don't you go fill the sugar containers, Maria," Liz distractedly told her best friend.

"I'm not even working right now," the blonde responded indignantly.

Still, they simply dismissed her, too busy concentrating on each other but pretending not to be staring. "Well, can I get you anything else while you wait," Liz offered.

"A cherry coke," Max requested.

As Liz filled him a glass of his favorite beverage, she told him, "and you know this is going to be on the house, right?"

"Yeah because he hasn't sat outside for years costing your parents money. Let's just give him free food now, too," Maria grumbled.

His dreamgirl continued on, undaunted. "It's just my way of saying congratulations."

"It's really not necessary, Liz."

"It's my pleasure, Max," she told him, offering him a shy smile as she placed the pop before him.

Discretely, he dipped a finger into the fizzing liquid, altering its molecular structure from soda to something a little more potent. After all, if he was going to spend an entire evening in Liz Parker's presence, he wanted to make sure he was at the top of his game. What little alcohol that was left in his water bottle simply wouldn't be enough to dull his senses to the point of being able to function normally. Taking a sip, he sighed in contentment and sincerely whispered, "thanks."

Somewhere in the background, he could hear Maria complaining, saying something about 'chicks before dicks' and then stomping out of the cafe, but he was too distracted by watching the beautiful brunette before him as she seemed to dance around the diner, effortlessly performing her waitressing duties. Frankly, he was too at peace, too happy to worry about Maria DeLuca. In fact, Max was so content that he didn't even realize that half of his glass was already empty, that he was quickly finishing the remainder of the liquor swirling in its dark depths. He was oblivious to everything in that moment besides Liz Parker and just how free he finally felt.