Chapter Ten

As he cleaned the grill, Liz washed dishes. While he put chairs up, she mopped the floor. Rather than sticking to their own close-up chores, Max and Liz had elected to share each others. That way, they could spend more time with one another; they could finally talk. Although he could have just used his powers and saved them both a lot of time and effort, Liz either hadn't thought of that suggestion, or she didn't want to cheat on their responsibilities. And who was he to argue with spending more time with her? If he did rush them through the close-up process, then he'd just have to go home sooner, and home meant studying, sleeping, and being grounded. He wasn't allowed to talk on the phone, his computer had been disconnected from the internet, and Max's only deviation from going from home to school, from school to home were the nights when he was working. Sure, he could have found a way around his parents' rules, but he refused to do anything that would jeopardize their giving him a third chance and allowing him to stay at home and not go to rehab.

So, all that meant being economical with his Liz time. He timed it so that their breaks coincided, and he had learned the art of passing notes in class. Best of all? Apparently, Liz felt the same way, because she was now trading all the other waitresses for the closing shift. Since it was all of the girls' least favorite shift – after all, who would voluntarily want to clean the milkshake machine or scrub down the Crash's vinyl booths?, they readily agreed. And, if her parents were suspicious, then they were obviously accepting, especially since he and Liz were careful, paying attention to all the diner's nighttime noises just in case either Mr. or Mrs. Parker decided to creep down the stairs and check up on them. When that happened, they simply talked about school, and, given their identical class schedules, such discussion came easily to them and was quite believable.

"Sooo," Liz prompted, eyeing him curiously. She was currently refilling all the sugar, salt, and pepper shakers, while he was tackling the restaurant's much-used coffee machines.

Unsure of what she was trying to ask him, he teased back, "sooo what?"

Unprepared for her light, whimsical mood, Max laughed out loud when Liz playfully stuck her tongue out at him. "So, tell me about last night," she prompted. "We didn't get to talk about it this morning, because the hallways were too full at school, lab ran over into our lunch period, and I had a student council meeting after school."

"Not to mention the fact that the employees' couch while on our breaks during a busy dinner rush isn't very conducive to private conversation." She nodded in agreement, rolling her eyes in recollection at just how insane their shifts had been that evening. Returning to a note of seriousness, he asked, "what do you want to know?"

"How did it go?"

"It went," he responded simply, shrugging his shoulders and then biting his lip in preparation of her complaint.

"Max!"

He chuckled. "I don't know," he finally responded seriously. "As you're well aware of, it was my very first AA meeting."

"Just tell me about it, please," she prompted him. When he didn't immediately reply, Liz backpedaled, "I mean, if you feel comfortable talking about that with me. I don't mean to push, and I definitely don't want to pry."

"You're not prying," he was quick to reassure her. "I just don't really know how to describe it." Replacing the pot he had been scrubbing, Max turned around, leaned his elbows against the counter, and watched as Liz put down her own task and mimicked his stance. They were standing side by side, their hips and shoulders discreetly brushing together. "When we first got there, your dad told me that I wouldn't be expected to talk if I didn't want to, that most people don't share on their first visit, that the point was to listen and feel a part of something larger than my own demons."

"And did you... talk, I mean?"

"No, and it'll probably take me a while before I feel comfortable opening up to a roomful of strangers."

"Well, they won't always be strangers," she pointed out pragmatically.

"To me, they will be," he argued, not defensively just realistically. "Liz, you might know the truth about me, but I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to... show another soul my secrets. While I know it's not the same thing, and it certainly is not fair to you, for now, I'm just going to have to be content with sharing my thoughts and feelings with you. No one else can ever know about the real reason why I... well, why I drink."

He was shocked when Liz shifted her weight to free one of her hands, lightly sliding a single digit leisurely against his thumb. "I don't feel burdened by knowing the real you, Max."

"You say that now, but..."

"But nothing," she interrupted him. "Don't finish that sentence. I feel blessed that you trusted me enough to open up to me, and, when I saw what you showed me... well, let's just say that I could never regret that night, Max – any of it."

Avoiding her gaze and, instead, watching as her finger brushed against his own, he hesitantly, nervously asked, "what, uh, what did you see when we... connected that first time?"

"Oh, so many things," Liz responded enthusiastically. He nearly cried out at the loss of her touch when she stood up straight and eagerly started to reveal the personal insights she had gleaned from their shared experience. "I saw you naked."

"What," Max squealed, reddening immediately in embarrassment. And then he felt a twinge of jealousy. After all, he had certainly never seen Liz so revealed before, but then his selfish thoughts were followed by yet another surge of mortification, for Liz was smart, and beautiful, and kind hearted, not some girl to merely ogle.

So, it was with burning ears that he heard his dreamgirl giggle in response to his reaction before she assured him, "relax, Max. I meant when you were six. I saw you wandering around in the desert when your parents found you."

"Oh." Really, he had no idea what else to say. He felt like a first-rate fool. Looking at his shuffling feet and rubbing an index finger distractedly along his left temple, he risked asking, "what else...," only to pause long enough to clear his throat. "What else did you see?"

"I saw your mother give you this little toy house, and, though I didn't understand its significance, I could just tell that it was important to you." He hadn't thought of that toy house in years. However, when he went to explain its role in his life to Liz, she was already moving forward onto yet something else she had seen while connected to him. "I also saw what I believe to be your first fishing trip with your dad. I saw you lose your first tooth and felt how scared you were, because you didn't understand what was happening; I saw your first day of school, and I saw the first time when you saw me. In fact, I saw myself a lot in your flashes, Max."

And here it was – the part he had been dreading. While he had been present in her flashes as well, he did not feature as prominently in her subconscious as she did in his. Mixed in with the fleeting moments they had shared over the years, Liz had also shown him much of her relationship with her parents, with her grandmother, with Maria, and with Alex. He had seen the trip her family had taken to the beach when she was five, the first time she and Maria played together, Alex rescuing Liz and Maria from the dodgeball bullies in gym class, and her grandmother telling her that, if it wasn't complicated, then it wasn't a soulmate. What he didn't know was what his part – parting smiles, shared academic achievements, glimpses of each other in the hallway – in her memories meant. Sure, such occasions were the driving force behind Max's existence, but Liz could have been simply recalling moments shared between them because of the stress of the evening, because his hands were on her as she bled out in the street, and she had no idea what was happening.

"Are you okay with that?"

"Okay with it?" She paused then long enough to catch his glance, refusing to allow him to look away. And then she sent his mind and heart careening into a state of flabbergasted hope when she lifted her right hand and cupped his face, the silky skin of her palm complimenting the rough, shadowed texture of his jaw. "Max, I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Liz!"

Before he could reply; before he could truly savor the moment; before he could take advantage of the opening she had provided him with, leaned down slightly, and kissed her, a very petulant, very pissed off Maria DeLuca shattered the haze which had formed around Max and his dreamgirl. They broke apart, Liz dropping her hand like touching him had burned her sensitive skin, and he turned away, putting his back towards the confrontation he was not truly a part of.

"What the hell are you doing? What's the matter with you?" Before Liz could respond to her friend's accusations, Maria was already leveling some more. "You were supposed to meet me at the movies ten minutes ago, and, now, we're going to miss the movie altogether, because this place is still a mess, and you haven't even changed yet!"

"I'm sorry, Maria," Liz apologized profusely. "I... we just..."

"Save it," the blonde barked. "If Freakazoid Evans can't hack this job, then he needs to make himself scarce."

"Maria, don't call him that," Liz defended him, but her best friend was already talking once more, steamrolling over the chastisement.

"This is our senior year, babe. It's almost over, and we've yet to really start living it up. You're going to be leaving for college in a few short months, while I stay here, stuck in this alien-themed hellhole. Soon, our friendship is going to be reduced to a holiday card every December and awkward catch-up sessions at our reunions, and, before that happens, I need to soak in as much Lizzie time as I can."

"Maria, that's not going to happen. How many times do I have to reassure you that..."

Whatever promise Liz was about to make, it was cut off as Maria continued on. "And, apparently, you don't feel the same way, because, instead of spending time with me – as you swore you would, I catch you here making googly eyes with the town weirdo."

Suddenly, Liz was not so accommodating towards her irate friend. Rather, she, too, became upset, losing her patience. "Maria, I said I was sorry, and I am. I let you down, but that's no reason for you to continually insult Max. He did nothing to you, and he doesn't deserve your wrath. If you want to be mad at me, if you want to say ridiculous things about our friendship and toss accusations at my character, then fine. There's nothing I can do to stop you, but leave Max out of it."

With hands on her hips, the blonde exclaimed, "so, that's how it's going to be from now on, huh?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Liz said with a frustrated sigh in return.

Without responding further, Maria turned on her heal and exited the diner, attempting – and failing – to slam the door behind her.

"I'm sorry about that, Max."

"You have nothing to be sorry about, Liz," he argued with her. "In fact, I'm the one who should be apologizing to you. If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't be fighting with your best friend."

"No, Maria and I are fighting because of her insecurities. You're not the problem, Max; you're just the latest symptom."

"If you want to run after her and try to patch things up, maybe even still catch your movie, I can finish up here," he offered genuinely. Though he didn't want to sacrifice his own precious time with Liz, he would do anything to make her happy... even if it meant depriving himself of a little joy.

"Thanks for the offer, but Maria's going to need some time to cool off." Then, looking him straight in the eye, she added, "besides, I'm right where I want to be. I, uh... we still need to connect again tonight."

In order to continue staving off his heightened senses, he and Liz had been attempting to reconnect on a daily basis. By allowing his mind to truly be free around another person, by allowing his heart to feel and his soul to speak, Max was satisfying his body's instincts and preventing his sensory overloads from occurring. In the meantime, Liz seemed to relish the heightened awareness she achieved from being so close to him yet had thankfully, so far, failed to experience any of the negative aspects of his powers. It was like connecting with someone, connecting with Liz, took the overwhelming pressure he had lived with and suffered under his entire life and divided it between them into a level that both could, instead, enjoy; it was like he had been meant to share his entire self with her all this time and just hadn't known or been brave enough to try.

Deciding to lighten the moment and to distract Liz from her problems with her best friend, Max taunted, "and I think you were also about to tell me about your cupcake dress."

With wide eyes, a gaping mouth, and an expression somewhere caught between humor and humiliation, Liz remarked, "I can't believe you saw that!"

If Max had his way, he'd see everything there was to know about Liz Parker.

; : ;

Being a short order fry cook wasn't the most inspiring job in the world. In fact, it kind of sucked. Despite the fact that he had been working at the Crashdown for several weeks at that point, Max still left every evening with some sort of new burn. And, yes, he often healed them, but, still, until he had a free, private moment to himself, the spots still stung like hell. Plus, there was also the smell. Even putting aside his advanced senses, by the time his shifts were over, he always left the diner wafting rank odor... especially when they had some sort of fish as the special.

It was also sweltering back in his little cubbyhole of a work area. Between the various fryers, the griddle, the grill, and the oven, Max was pretty sure the Crashdown produced enough heat to warm the entire town of Roswell even on the chilliest of nights. Not that they were experiencing such cool weather at the moment. Summer was quickly approaching, the balmy days of May waning into the steamy days of June, and that fact only compounded how uncomfortable his working environment was. There was only one saving grace... and, no, he wasn't talking about all the free alien blasts he could consume.

Liz.

They shared practically every shift together. Now that finals were over, and they had officially graduated high school, the two of them had started to pick up even more hours – Liz stocking her money away for college in the fall, and Max working even harder to both pay his parents back for all the trouble he caused them and to impress Jeff Parker. That meant weekday evenings and Saturday mornings at the diner together, both of them electing to take Sundays off. If anyone else noticed or, for that matter, cared that he and Liz preferred to work the same shifts, they didn't say anything. Well, he took that back. Maria had noticed, Maria had definitely voiced her observation, and Maria had also questioned it, too, but everything the cantankerous blonde waitress had uttered had been voiced under her breath – loud enough for Max and Liz to hear but intentionally soft enough as well that she could have denied their accusations if they had elected to make them. What mattered was that Mr. Parker had thus far not commented upon their mirrored schedules, so he was either unconcerned or supportive of their spending so much time together.

Max liked to think it was the latter, that, despite the circumstances of their relationship, Jeff Parker saw something in him that he liked, that he respected.

In that moment, though, it was a good thing that Liz's dad couldn't read his thoughts let alone hear them, because, if he could, any respect Mr. Parker had for him would go flying out the passthrough window. Even when he wasn't actually looking at her, Max couldn't see anything but Liz. He saw her in her uniform – the skirt not short enough to be considered risque but, at the same time, short enough to offer him a tantalizing peek; the collar not quite demure as it bared Liz's collar bones and hinted at places he had only fantasized about seeing; and those snaps... perfect for feisty seduction and fast and easy removal. And the heat of the diner combined with the heat of the approaching New Mexican summer only heightened his awareness of his coworker, his friend, his dreamgirl. Despite the Crash's air conditioning, with Liz bustling about to and fro to wait dedicatedly on her customers, her skin was now always a delicious shade of juicy, ripe pink – slightly flushed and slightly moist as well, a fine sheen of perspiration dewing upon her already soft flesh. When Max really lost track of his surroundings, when he really fell head first into his daydreams about Liz, there were moments when he could have sworn he heard the snaps of her dress popping open, when he could taste the salty sweetness of her throat against his greedy, desperate...

"Max."

He was so startled when he whirled around to face his boss that Max dropped the spatula he had been using onto the floor, the metal cooking utensil clattering at a ridiculously loud decibel given how otherwise busy and noisy the rest of the diner was, and badly burned his hand on the grill behind him. "Um, Mr. Parker," he returned, his voice squeaking. Surreptitiously, with his hands behind his back, he healed the injury before attempting to relax. He failed in his efforts.

"Is everything alright back here?"

"Oh, yeah. Everything's great," he was quick to reassure the older man. "I was just... uh, I was..."

"Absorbed with your meat, apparently," Jeff filled in for him.

Since that was more or less the truth of the matter... only not in the way Liz's father meant, he simply nodded his head in agreement. "So, uh," he prefaced his question, scratching behind his right ear nervously. "Is there a problem? Did I do something wrong?"

"Relax, Max. It's nothing like that," Mr. Parker dismissed. "I just had a spare moment, and I wanted to tell you that I won't be able to go running with you tomorrow morning. In fact, now that the summer's here, I'll probably have to stop for a while. Between the increase in local diners and preparing for the upcoming tourist season, it's about to get really hectic around here."

"Oh, well, okay... if you're sure. I mean, we could just get up earlier if you'd like."

Mr. Parker chuckled. "No matter how much I like to pretend otherwise, I'm not as young as I once was. Any earlier and it just might kill me... or, more precisely, Nancy might kill me. I hope you'll still continue running on your own, though," he suggested.

"I will," Max readily agreed. Just as Jeff had told him a few weeks before, he did find it helpful to go running every morning. It grounded him, centered him. It cleared his mind and pushed his body to its limits in a healthy way.

"And I could start going out with you, too... if you want, running I mean," Liz offered, surprising them both from the dining room side of the passthrough window.

Her father laughed, Liz blushed, and Max just stared at her, too excited by the prospect of her proposal to react. Yet. It was Mr. Parker who spoke first. "Lizzie, honey, you're just like your mother; you hate physical exercise."

"Yeah, well, I'm not going to be eighteen forever, dad. This will be good for me."

"Are you sure, Liz," Max questioned, wanting to solidify their plans before she changed her mind. "It's pretty intense."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you saying that I can't handle it, Evans, that I can't handle you?"

"Would never dream of it, Parker," he returned playfully.

While they were both exchanging grins with each other, neither of them were aware of the looks that Liz's father was casting in their direction. In fact, it took his gruff, "alright already, back to work, you two," for them to break their mutual, intense stare. Even after Liz had gone back to her tables and Max had turned back to the grill, Jeff stood there. It was only after he left several minutes later that Max realized the mood in the kitchen had shifted. By then, though, it was too late to do anything about it.

; : ;

"Rise and shine, Little Lizzie Parker," an enthusiastic voice boomed down the hallway which led to the Parkers bedrooms. "You've had a week to be lazy and sleep in, and, now, it's time for us to let loose your inner rock and roll... Unless my Whitman genes have finally caught up with me and I now need glasses, you're not Liz," Alex accused Max.

"She'll be out in a minute," he assured her friend, hooking a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the closed bathroom door behind which Liz was... well, it was better if Max didn't contemplate the details. "She's just getting ready."

"And you're in her bedroom, because why exactly," Alex prompted.

He shrugged, moving to shove his hands into his pockets only to recall that he wasn't wearing jeans; he was in his sweats. "Mrs. Parker told me to come on back and wake her up."

"It's kind of early, don't you think?"

Becoming slightly defensive, Max volleyed back, "you're here."

Alex nodded, lifting a finger to his chin as he contemplated Max thoughtfully. "So, what brings you by, Evans? A Crashdown emergency, perhaps?"

"We're going running," Liz answered for him, making both men turn in her direction as she emerged from her en-suite all bushy and bright eyed, fairly bursting with energy.

"As in errands," Whitman prompted.

"No, as in jogging," Liz corrected.

Alex pretended to laugh. "Ha ha, very funny. Now, tell me who you really are and where I can find my best friend."

Liz, on the other hand, genuinely chuckled as she sat down on the edge of her bed and proceeded to slip on and then tie her tennis shoes. "I'm serious, and, besides, what are you doing here so early?"

"What's Max Evans doing here so early," Alex countered, "and in your bedroom no less."

She stood then, teasingly approaching her friend in a timid manner as though she was afraid of startling him. "It's going to be okay, Alex. We've gone over this already, remember? Max and I are going running... as in one leg moving rapidly in front of the other while simultaneously pumping your arms. Don't worry, though. I won't allow the men in white coats to drag you away... at least, not before getting that ten bucks you still owe me back first."

"Wow, you're a laugh a minute, Parker."

Liz tauntingly preened. "What can I say? I do what I can. No seriously, though," she became more solemn, mock punching her friend in the shoulder. "What's up? Why are you here?"

"I thought we'd start the summer off right with a little mono e mono bonding time – band practice with you acting as my favorite tone deaf groupie, of course, and then I figured I'd allow you to treat me to breakfast afterwards."

"Alex, we just spent four years in Spanish together. You know that mono e mono means absolutely nothing."

"Hey, newsflash," Alex tossed up as a witty rejoinder. "We graduated, and it's our last summer break before we all leave for college. The knowledge police called, and they want their pretend badge back."

Liz rolled her eyes. "Well, as tempting as your offer sounds, I'm afraid I'm going to have to pass. Max and I already have plans."

"So it seems."

"Besides, shouldn't you be asking Maria to go to band practice with you? She's the one with an ear for talent. Then again," Liz remarked jeeringly, the friends' banter all in fun, "maybe that's why you didn't ask her."

"Hey, The Whits have talent... or, at least, the potential to have it." Liz chuckled. "Besides," Alex admitted, sighing dramatically. "I already asked Miss-Don't-Wake-Me-Before-The-Price-Is-Wrong-Bitch-DeLuca. She said she needed her beauty rest and to ask you."

"Glad to see I was your second choice, Whitman."

"Yeah, well, have fun getting sweaty this morning with tall, dark, and silent over there," Alex indicated Max as he prepared to leave Liz's bedroom via the door.

As the two of them moved towards her window where they would shimmy down the fire escape before starting their run, his dreamgirl tossed back, "and you have fun torturing your ears on an empty stomach."

They could still hear Alex hardy-har-har'ing it, because of their increased senses, as they reached the alley below. Reaching out a tentative hand to hold Liz by the arm and prevent her from starting her stretches, he asked her uncertainly, "are you sure you don't want to bail on me and go with your friend?"

"Alex is just one of my friends; you're my friend, too, and we made our plans first. Besides, listening to The Whits first thing in the morning? Yeah... that's not exactly my idea of starting the day off on the right foot."

"Just as long as you're sure."

"I'm sure, Max."

He let go of her; she bent over to touch her toes, giving him a perfect view of her nice, round, tight...

"Max," Liz's lilting voice teased him lightly, laughingly. "Aren't you going to stretch, too?"

"Right. Stretch. Yes."

He as still blushing, and Liz was still giggling when they took off jogging five minutes later.