Chapter Eleven

"... grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference."

The meeting closed like any other. Catching the eye of his sponsor, Max nodded once to signal goodbye and thanks. After their first visit to AA together, he had been quick to tell Jeff Parker that he wasn't comfortable sticking around after the meetings adjourned to socialize over bad coffee and stale donuts, and Liz's dad had been fine with Max leaving on his own. It wasn't so much that he was uncomfortable in the musty community center's basement... or, at least, any more uncomfortable than he was anywhere else; it was just that, if he was going to talk to anyone, he wanted that person to be Liz, not her father and certainly not some anonymous stranger.

So, now, they had a routine. Once the meetings were over, he would pick up Liz, and they would go for a drive out into the desert. Because of his job and his obvious efforts to remain clean and sober, his parents had lifted his grounding after a month, and he was reaping the rewards of their tentative trust. And, speaking of trust, it was on those desert drives... or, at least, after he and Liz found some place to park, that they would connect. Sure, they shared fleeting moments at the Crashdown or when they were out jogging, but those brief seconds of being open with her were far from enough to sustain Max and his need to let someone in. When they were on their own in the middle of nowhere, they could just sit together, stare, and talk for hours... or for however long they had before Liz's curfew would expire.

It was the thought of spending what remained of his Sunday evening with his favorite girl that had Max grinning like a fool and twirling his keys distractedly around his index finger when Mr. Parker surprised him in the center's parking lot. Usually, he was the first to leave, and, when he did so, he was alone, so, to hear his name called out and especially in such a meaningful, ominous tone, startled him.

"Max, we need to talk."

His steps faltered just feet shy of the jeep, and slowly he turned around in order to face Liz's father. What he found was far from reassuring. Jeff Parker was frowning, his brow creased in what could only be interpreted as worry, and his arms were folded over his thin chest. It was a challenging pose. "Is there something wrong?" Without giving his sponsor a chance to respond, Max quickly tacked on, "if this is about me skipping out right after the meeting was over, I thought you were okay with that."

"I am, and, no, this has nothing to do with the meeting... or, well, not directly."

Without intention, Max moved into his defensive posture – shoulders slightly pushed forward, hands jammed into the front pockets of his jeans. "I'm kind of confused then," he admitted.

"Max, this is about my daughter; this is about Liz."

Briefly, he had to fight the urge to yell at Mr. Parker, to tell him that he was well aware of his daughter's name, but Max immediately squashed that urge. He had a feeling animosity was not the way to handle what was surely shaping up to be a confrontation between the two of them. No, it was more than a mere hunch; he knew that Jeff would react badly if pushed by sarcasm. So, instead, he calmly asked, "what about her?"

"The two of you have been getting pretty close lately," Liz's dad observed. "You work all the same shifts together; you go running together... something that, before two weeks ago, my little girl never showed any interest in, no matter how many times I invited her to go along with me; and, now, you're going out for drives in the desert together as well."

Despite his best intentions, he became defensive. "It was your idea for me to work at the Crashdown," Max reminded his boss, "and, when Liz suggested the idea that she go running with me now that you can't, you didn't seem to have a problem with it then."

"I was caught off guard."

"And we asked for both your permission and my parents', too, before we started going for drives together." Shrugging his shoulders, Max said, "I don't know what else I can do to make you trust us, to trust me."

Finally, Jeff uncrossed his arms, taking several steps closer to Max so that they could talk more in private as some of the other group members were starting to leave. "It's not that I don't trust the two of you. Lizzie is a good girl, and, despite your issues, Max, you have shown remarkable strength and growth since I became your sponsor. In fact, I'm actually impressed with how well you've handled yourself."

"Well, then, I don't understand what the problem is."

"The problem is that, despite your claims and despite my daughter's, I'm not sure what to make of your sudden closeness."

"Liz and I are just friends," he admitted. Despite what he wanted, he was telling the truth. "And we've always gotten along, It's just that I was always... too shy to be her friend in the past."

"But are you really just friends, Max," Mr. Parker challenged him, leaning forward to stare at him with a narrowed, accusing gaze. "I've seen the way you look at my little girl, the way your eyes follow her around a room, and, while I might be an old, married man, I can still recognize the look you give her. You're attracted to my daughter. Don't even attempt to deny it."

Swallowing thickly, he stood up straight and then confessed, "alright then, I won't. Liz is beautiful, and smart, and compassionate. I'd be an idiot not to be attracted to her."

"And I could live with that – you liking my Lizzie as more than just a friend," Mr. Parker shocked him by saying, "if that's all I thought was going on between the two of you, but I've been watching her, too, and do you know what I've seen?"

"No?"

"Intrigue. When my daughter looks at you, it's like she sees this mystery that she wants to solve and that she knows she'll enjoy every single second of her efforts." While it was apparent that Liz's father did not share his opinion, Max was definitely liking what he was hearing – so much so, in fact, that he knew he was blushing, and he was grateful for the shadows the setting sun washed over the shaded parking lot. "And I can't have that."

"You can't?"

"But here's the catch," Jeff continued, ignoring his question. "I can't just tell Lizzie that she's forbidden from seeing you, let alone that she's not allowed to date you. While Liz might be a wonderful daughter and a very responsible young woman, she's still a teenager, and teenagers are willful and stubborn. If I were to tell her what to do, she'd do the exact opposite, and I'd only succeed in driving her even closer to you."

Why was her father telling him all of this? Why was Mr. Parker confiding in him about a problem Max was a part of, one that he, by no means, felt the need to fix at all? Before he could even contemplate an answer to his own questions, though, his boss was giving him the reason. "But I can tell you what to do."

This time, it was Max's turn to narrow his gaze in open disfavor. "Excuse me?"

"Look, Max, before I get to what I need to say to you, I want you to know that this isn't personal. I like you. I honestly do, and, as I just told you, I'm not only proud of your progress in your recovery but also impressed as well, but that doesn't mean that I want my only daughter dating an addict."

He was too stunned to respond.

"So, this is how it's going to be: make it clear to Liz that you can and only want to be her friend, that you're not interested in her, or you'll lose your job, I'll stop being your sponsor, and I'll do everything within my power to keep you away from my little girl." When he went to protest, Jeff interrupted him, "right now, I know this seems cruel, Max, but, someday, you're going to be a father yourself, and you'll understand that a parent will do anything to protect their child. And, really, what I'm offering you isn't so bad. You can still be Liz's friend, you'll be able to keep your job, and your parents will continue to be proud of you."

He was not a violent guy, but, in that moment, Max wanted to hit Jeff Parker more than he had ever wanted to hit another person... even Kyle Valenti. That said a lot. But he refrained. Instead of reacting, he simply turned his back on Liz's father, got in his jeep, and drove away.

; : ;

He had run straight to Liz.

Despite her dad's threats and the fact that Max knew Mr. Parker was justified in his concerns, he simply couldn't help himself. He had always been obsessed with Liz – since the very first time he had laid eyes on her. Now, though, it was more than that. His want had become need as he traded in one addiction for another. Max was self-aware enough to realize that it wasn't AA, or running, or Jeff Parker's influence keeping him sober; rather, it was his new dependency... upon Liz. While everything else helped, for the meetings and the support allowed him to understand his addiction, understanding wouldn't have been enough to keep him sober, but his newfound connection with Liz was. The peace her compassion and friendship afforded him balanced Max, his love for her gave him the serenity, courage, and wisdom he needed to remain clean.

It wasn't fair to Liz – placing so much pressure upon her and their relationship, but it was also too late to change their connection... not that he wanted to. In fact, the two of them hadn't even made a conscious decision to bond themselves together so intricately. Instead, it had been a life or death choice. Either he save Liz's life and risk exposure, or he allow her to die and remain anonymous. Really, there had been no decision to make at all. Even before their minds had become joined, Liz's death would have killed Max, too. Add to that the fact that he would have been the cause of her loss of life, and he had no doubt that the guilt, and the remorse, and the shame would have, first, driven him insane, and then, second, driven him to commit suicide.

For some reason he didn't understand or, at that point, care to question, their lives were bound together, and Max was done fighting the inevitable. Even if he wanted to change his connection to Liz Parker (which he didn't), it was too late for that now. Hell, it had been too late the moment he stepped off the school bus in third grade and saw her smile for the first time. At that point, the only thing that could possibly keep him away from her was Liz herself.

Max promised himself that, if he ever became too much of a burden to Liz, then he would leave, no matter what the consequences to his own existence might be, and, if she ever asked him to go, he would respect her and her wishes enough to do just that... even if the thought of walking away from her sent every instinct, every nerve ending in his body into a blind free-fall. So, essentially, he just had to make sure that he was worthy of her, that, someday, he became just as good for Liz as she already was for him, and Max knew that the first step in doing just that was honesty. While her father might be comfortable manipulating her and her relationship with him, Max was not. Ultimatum or no ultimatum, Liz would decide what she felt for him, what she wanted out of a relationship with him, and how they would respond to her dad's unfavorable stance upon their connection.

Having come to his conclusion, Max sighed in relief, finally registering the night around him. It was a quiet, still summer night – one where the heat of the desert refused to surrender to the coolness of the moon, its heavy, oppressive air weighing down upon everything. It was like a buffer, softening the edges and blurring the realities of one's world. The stars seemed dreamier, the howls of the coyotes edgier, more threatening, and all Max Evans wanted to do was hold Liz Parker's hand.

With that thought in mind, he decided that they had been driving around the barren New Mexico landscape for long enough. At the first level spot along the highway, he pulled the jeep off the road, taking it further into dry wilderness. The nearly full moon hung low in the sky – a huge, alabaster halo of illumination. It lit up the night, upstaging the stars in purpose but never in beauty, and caused the burnt sand of the nearby mesas and rock formations to glow nearly gold. A quick glance over at his companion, though, caused Max to realize that he was the only one of the two of them aware of their surroundings, that Liz was lost somewhere in her own mind. Immediately, his focus shifted entirely onto her, his concern over her father's demands disappearing in light of whatever it was causing her so much stress and worry.

Blindly, he reached into the back of the jeep to retrieve the blanket and heavy-duty flashlight he now kept in his vehicle at all times now precisely for nights like the one he and Liz were currently sharing together. Despite the brightness of the sky that evening, Max knew better than to walk out into the desert without the proper supplies. If clouds were to move in, obscuring the moon's illumination, then he and Liz could very likely be stranded in the middle of nowhere all night. While his powers would guarantee that they survived such an outing, he never wanted to put her in the position where she was scared or uncomfortable, where, being with him, could potentially get her into trouble. So, clear night sky with a full moon or not, the flashlight was going with them.

Supplies in his right hand, the jeep in park with the emergency brake on, too, just to be safe, Max hopped out of his parked vehicle and quickly circled around its front to help Liz down and out. While he hoped that she interpreted his actions as chivalrous, the truth of the matter was that Max simply tried to take advantage of any opportunity that afforded him the chance to touch his dreamgirl... even if it was just a simple brushing together of their hands. After all, while his physiology was not of this earth, his urges were, and, just like with any teenage boy his age, lurking underneath his nervous, shy exterior beat the heart of a libidinous eighteen year old. He was just better at hiding his lust than others.

They walked together in silence for several minutes – far enough so that, by the time they stopped, even Max would have had to strain to see the toy-sized figure of the jeep in the distance. Wordlessly, he spread the blanket, watching Liz the entire time. She barely blinked, her gaze cast into the shadows of the night as though she was watching some scene only she could see take place just over his shoulder. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, in distress, and her poor bottom lip was raw from the constant abuse of her mangling teeth. Although Max had been patiently waiting for Liz to open up to him without provocation, he simply couldn't stand to see her so upset any longer. So, shattering the stillness, he took a step closer to her and hesitantly asked, "Liz, what's going on? Are you... is everything okay? It's like you've been in a completely different galaxy all night so far."

It wasn't until he made a reference to his own reason for aloofness around everyone else except Liz that he received a reaction. She smirked, and, for the first time that evening, met his eyes with her own, and he was relieved to see that her humor reached her expressive orbs of mocha colored grace and generosity. "It sounds like someone speaks from first-hand experience."

Max simply raised his brows in defiance, not allowing her to distract him from his purpose. Maybe he had set out that evening intent upon confiding in her, in sharing the burden her father had placed upon their relationship, but too much of their friendship centered around him and his issues; for once, Liz and whatever was bothering her was going to come first. They'd deal with his worries another time, another night.

"Alright, fine," Liz conceded. "Let's sit, though, first, alright?"

Wordlessly, he complied, nearly smirking himself when he noticed that their actions mirrored each other's. As soon as they sat down, both he and Liz purposely folded their legs underneath them before scooting closer to the other, so close, in fact, that their knees were just a sliver away from touching. Once he was settled, Max looked up, but, instead of finding Liz ready to talk, he found her, once more, biting her lip in silent contemplation. Just when he was about to prompt her into talking again, he lifted her gaze, smiled, and held out her hands, palms up.

"I have a better idea," she told him. "You're right. There is something bothering me, something that's been on my mind all night, but, instead of telling you about it, let me show you, Max. Connect with me," she entreated him.

That was something she never had to ask him for twice. If Max could spend the rest of his life connected to Liz Parker, he would gratefully and greedily do so. Taking the invitation that her hands presented to him, he awkwardly laced their fingers together, only for Liz to twist her own wrists so that they could more comfortably wrap their hands around one another's. Palms touching, their fingers braided together into two tight knots – her petite hands nearly swallowed by his own much larger ones, the two of them unconsciously moved even closer to one another, the slight distance from before quickly being swallowed by their connection's instinct to be near each other. And that's all it took before he was inside of her mind, spinning, falling, jumping into Liz's thoughts, Liz's feelings, Liz's soul, and she allowed him in freely, welcoming Max into the very heart of what made her Liz. Everything she experienced in memory, he experienced with her.

Before the person outside of her door could knock, Liz heard them approaching... not that they were being stealth no matter what their intentions might have been. She could hear Maria whispering to someone, though Maria's whispers were always of stage-quality. Liz explained away her best friend's inability to speak in hushed tones upon the fact that Maria simply felt things too powerfully to keep them bottled up and to herself. That was part of the reason why, whenever they had girl talk, they had do so with a pint of Ben Jerry's sitting between them. Being alone helped to muffle Maria's tendency to share things Liz wanted kept secret; her best friend's mouth full of ice cream worked even better.

"I've been standing outside her bedroom door for like... hours, Alex. Hurry your skinny ass up already. She's going to start getting suspicious."

From outside on her balcony, Liz then heard her other best friend respond, Alex doing absolutely nothing to cloak his approach. "Have you ever tried to climb a fire escape with a cell phone in one of your hands."

"I'm a woman, Whitman. I've climbed Liz's fire escape in both heels and a thong. Quit being a wimp already. It's no wonder you only hang out with girls."

Like a ping-pong ball, Liz's head bounced from her closed bedroom door to her open bedroom window, ricocheting back and forth quite comically as her friends continued their bickering. While she was both curious as to the purpose of their visit and slightly apprehensive about their apparent double team... on what issue, she had no idea, the humor of the situation was proving distracting... for the time being.

"Hey, today isn't about harassing Alex... again; it's about 'Operation Googly Eyes.' And, for the record, let me just state once more how ridiculous I find that name."

"Hey, pal, once you mentioned body snatchers, you lost all credibility and

right to name our mission."

"Says the girl whose mother owns an alien decorations shop," Alex snorted.

"Shut it, Whitman. You leave Crazy Amy out of this," Maria threatened.

"Like mother, like daughter, DeLuca," he tossed back in reply, finally climbing/falling/belly-flopping over the brick wall of her balcony's ledge.

Deciding it was time for her to intervene before blood was shed, Liz spoke up. "Okay, James Bond and Lara Croft you two are not. The gig is up. I've known you were both there for several minutes now,

and I heard your conversation. Does someone want to tell me what 'Operation Googly Eyes' is?"

"Smooth one, Alex," Maria sniped, opening Liz's bedroom door and walking into the room as if she not only lived there herself but owned the entire building as well. "Maybe if you didn't spend all your time holding down one of the Crash's swivel chairs, you would have been able to sneak up here."

"Me," he returned sarcastically, stumbling over the threshold of Liz's bedroom window. "I'm not the one with the voice capable of assembling a pack of wild hyenas."

Maria was just about to launch herself in Alex's direction when Liz stood up from her bed, holding a warning hand out in both of their directions. "To your corners, children. You know the drill." Once her two best friends were each stomping towards their designated cool-down spots, she demanded, "now, does someone want to tell me what's going on here?"

"We're here to rescue you," Alex answered.

Picking up where he left off, Maria added, "yeah, from the evil clutches of Maniac Max, his tentacle arms, and his x-ray eyes."

"Amy hasn't been baking – and sharing – her famous brownies again, has she?"

"Hey, I told you to leave my mother out of this," Maria exploded, only to realize her error. Lowering her voice considerably, she went on to say, "I mean... I told Alex, and you obviously overheard, so, yeah, let's ix-nay on the Amy onspiracies-cay."

"You're like the worst secret agent ever, DeLuca," Alex accused their blonde friend. "I mean, really? Pig Latin?"

"At least I don't speak Klingon, nerd." Reaching into her pocket, Maria pulled out a vile of her natural substance of the week... whatever that may have been, unscrewed its cap, and took a good, long, what she believed to be bracing whiff. Once fortified, she continued, "besides, this isn't about us; this is about Liz and how crappy of a friend she's been lately."

All humor draining from her face, she immediately swiveled to face her accuser. "Excuse me?"

"It's true, Liz," Alex interjected, but she couldn't turn her gaze away from a frowning, pissed-off Maria DeLuca.

"For the past few months, you've hardly been around, Liz. You're suddenly too busy with your best friend Max to spend any time with us. This is the last summer before you and Alex go off to college without me; it's supposed to be the best time of our lives together, but, instead, it's been awful."

"Maria, we went shopping together three days ago, and," turning to face Alex, she added, "you and I had a cooking lesson yesterday afternoon."

"And, in those same three days during which combined you maybe spent six hours with Alex and I," Maria questioned her, "how much time did you spend batting your disgusting lashes at Max Evans?"

"I... just... what are you guys accusing me of?"

"Are you in love with him," Alex asked her, shocking Liz so much that she took several steps backwards until she felt her bed hit her knees, alerting her to the fact that it was safe to collapse like her suddenly rubbery legs were begging her to do.

"And, more than that, what kind of trouble has he dragged you into, Lizzie," Maria finished for him. Not allowing her time to adjust to one accusation before leveling her with another, her best friend stated, "you're keeping secrets from us, something that the three of us promised years ago that we'd never do. Every time either Alex or I see you with Max, the two of you always have your heads bent together, whispering, and you're like a completely different person, too, Liz. I mean, you go running now. It's like, who are you, what have you done with my best friend, and please don't eat my brains."

"Maria, how many times do I have to explain the differences between aliens and zombies to you?"

"Yeah, so not the point here, Alex," Maria leveled a glare across Liz's bedroom.

Ignoring their bantering once more, Liz squared her shoulders and stood up, ready to defend herself and her connection with Max. "Look, if I've hurt the two of you this summer, then I'm sorry. The three of us have been friends for so long that the both of you are like family to me, but I won't apologize for making a new friend. As you pointed out, Maria, I am leaving for school in the fall. We're eighteen now, not eight. It's time for us to grow up, and a part of growing up is realizing that your childhood friendships, while still important, are not always going to remain the same. Maybe you're right; maybe I am changing, but change isn't necessarily a bad thing. Perhaps the problem is that the two of you aren't changing along with me. As for my relationship with Max, that's between Max and I. The two of you are welcome to make an effort to get to know him, but, until you do, don't disparage against something you can't understand. I want to be friends with all three of you, but, if push comes to shove, if you give me an ultimatum, I'll stand by the better friend, and, right now, that friend is not either of the two of you."

Maria went to open her mouth, but Liz held up a hand, preventing her from doing so. "Please, don't say anything. Just leave. Right now, I'm too angry with the both of you to listen to anything else you have to say, and I think all three of us need to do some thinking before we discuss this any more." Nodding, both Alex and Maria moved towards their respective entrances. "And, Alex, this time," Liz told him, "you can use the door. After all, you can't corner me when you're leaving."

"Right," he nodded, blushing.

And then the two of them were gone.

It was Liz who broke their connection, letting go of his hands long enough for Max to return to the night, to the desert, to the familiarity of his own mind and guilt. "Liz, I'm so sorry," he immediately apologized. "I had no idea... I just..." He shrugged his shoulders sheepishly. "I guess I was just too selfish to realize what being friends with me was doing to the rest of your relationships."

"Max, I didn't show you what happened between Maria, Alex, and I this afternoon to make you feel guilty; I just showed you so that you could realize why I was being so distant tonight."

"You want to stop spending so much time with me," he surmised.

"No."

Her blunt response surprised him. After considering it for a moment, he asked, "you don't want to tell them the truth about me, do you?"

She laughed then, reassuring him. "Absolutely not, Max. Despite his lifetime membership to geek-dom, Alex is too realistic to accept the truth about what you are, and Maria would just freak."

"So, then, what do you want to do?"

"Nothing," Liz answered, shrugging. "It's like I told them, Max. We – you and I – did nothing wrong; our friendship is not the problem here. Maria and Alex just need to realize that they're not my only friends now, and, once they do, we'll be as good as gold again."

"And if they don't... accept that, accept me as a part of your life?"

"Then they're not the friends I thought they were, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Worrying about it now when there's nothing we can do to change things won't help any of us, Max." He nodded his acceptance, realizing the wisdom of her words, though he was still upset that knowing him, spending time with him, being connected with him was causing her so many problems. But just earlier that evening he had promised himself that he would allow Liz to make her own decisions. Going back on his word now would only make him a hypocrite.

Bringing him back to the moment, Liz stated, "now that we've covered that, what do you say you tell me about that little confrontation you had with my dad this evening."

Jerking his head upwards to meet her pointed, pressing gaze, Max squeaked, "what?"

She laughed. "You're too noble for your own good, Max. While I appreciate you wanting to focus on me tonight, our connection went both ways just now. Maybe I didn't see what happened between you and my dad play out scene for scene, word for word like you just saw what happened between Maria, Alex, and I, but I saw enough to know that, whatever he said to you, it upset you. Talk to me, Max; let me in."

When she asked him like that...

In that moment, Max realized that he would never be able to deny Liz Parker anything. As long as it was in his power to grant her something, then he would. And he would enjoy every single minute of doing so, too.