Chapter Twelve

He always thought he'd be satisfied with the knowledge that Liz Parker was happy, healthy, and, most importantly, alive. Max would watch her from the distance, drinking in his fill of her beauty and grace, her intelligence and her poise from afar, and he'd be content. Then, they became friends – real friends not just lab partners who shared a lunch occasionally, and he changed his mind. After that, he assumed that conversations with Liz would sustain him. Despite the fact that he was in love with her, as long as they could catch-up with one another when they randomly met up about town or socialized in a small group, his need for her would be fulfilled. He now realized, though, that he had just been fooling himself. He would never be truly happy, truly content, until Liz Parker returned his feelings.

Up until just a few days ago, such a thought had always seemed ridiculous. She was... well, she was Liz – his dreamgirl: everything he wanted from a friend, a lover, and a partner all rolled up in one sexy, petite package. But, at the same time, though, he was Max Evans: everything no woman would ever want. He was too shy, too quiet, too strange, too moody, too secretive, too – and this was the biggest strike against him – not of this world. Even if Liz did know the truth about his background, and even if she had somehow managed to break through all his layers of self-protection, he still wasn't good enough for her. The fact that he only revealed his true nature to her out of desperation after nearly killing her was proof enough of that.

Apparently, however, he was the only one who couldn't fathom Liz's possible attraction to him. After she shared her confrontation with Maria and Alex, her two best friends, with him, he realized that Liz's closest confidants questioned her feelings towards him. Even more shocking was the fact that her own father believed Liz wanted more from their relationship than just mere friendship. Even after Jeff, Maria, and Alex's accusations, though, Max had been hesitant to believe such a miracle – Liz loving him as more than just her pal – to be possible. But then she had become all introspective and secretive following his reveal of her dad's ultimatum. While she didn't avoid him, she also didn't react to anything he had shared with her. She didn't deny that she had feelings for him, but, at the same time, she didn't admit that she did either. It was like he was on the cusp of attaining everything he had ever fantasized about but dismissed as impossible...

… And it was driving Max insane!

What was even worse, weeks had now passed since their conversation out in the desert, and with August rushing towards them like a runaway train intent upon decimating his very existence, Max was not only consumed with thoughts about what Liz was thinking about in regards to him, her dad, and their relationship – his relationship with her, not Jeff Parker, but he was also very much aware of the fact that, in less than a month's time, the person he loved more than anything in the world, the person whom his very sanity and survival depended, upon would be leaving Roswell – and him – behind for college.

At one point, he had dreamed of maybe following her to whichever school she ended up selecting... not that he knew yet where Liz would be attending college in the fall. And his intentions weren't to stalk her across the country but rather plan their mutual decision together. Max had even had his entire argument mapped out. He would emphasize how well they worked together as lab partners, how it was always nice to have something, someone familiar nearby when faced with nothing else but the unknown and strangers, and Max had even been prepared to argue his own insecurities, seeking to appeal to Liz's altruistic side.

Now, though, such dreams of late night study sessions were just that: figments of his overactive imagination. After the number he had done to his grades, not to mention his reputation and criminal record, there was no school worthy of Liz's interest which would ever accept him... even if his parents could pay off an admissions counselor or two. He was still on probation, and he was lucky that he had even passed his senior year of high school. The only reason he had managed to squeak by was because Liz had taken him under her wing once more after he agreed to get and stay sober, cramming nearly six months worth of information into his brain so he could score high enough on his finals to pass his classes. To say that his GPA had taken one for the team was a great understatement.

So, now, he was stuck in Roswell while he scrambled to find a way to continue to put his life back together, and Liz was off to who knew where – east coast; west coast; somewhere far, far away from his daily reach – in just a paltry twenty-some days... depending upon which school she flew off to. Besides the agony of his uncertainty about her feelings toward him, Max was also tortured by thoughts of how many miles would soon be separating the two of them, and he also questioned why Liz's final college choice was such a secret. From what he had been able to piece together... and by piece together he meant eavesdrop in on private conversations, no one knew which prestigious university would be welcoming Roswell's favorite friendly, overachieving waitress to their freshman orientation week and subsequent fall semester worth of classes.

Despite his inner turmoil, though, Max remained sober – as promised. In fact, his body no longer woke up in the morning and went to bed at night craving a drink. While he still had moments of weakness, mainly when put in a situation where his lack of social skills were forced to come to a forefront and Liz wasn't anywhere nearby to hold his hand and help him, he also believed that he had managed to turn a corner. That was the one source of brightness in his otherwise rapidly dimming life. For the first time since his parents had found him wandering aimlessly, naked, in the desert, Max was proud of himself for something. Sure, his sobriety wouldn't have been possible without Liz's support and willingness to connect with him, without Jeff Parker's intervention upon his daughter's insistence, or without his parents' love and faith, Max also knew that no one else was responsible for his decisions, that he was the one who now, for more than three months, had elected not to take a drink.

Whatever joy he had been briefly feeling in that moment, whatever peace had settled over his countenance temporarily vanished, though, as Max returned to the present – to the stickiness of the overwhelmingly hot July midday. Upon Liz's insistence, they had gone against sensibility and taken a drive out into the desert that afternoon as had become their summer custom. Neither of them had to work until the dinner shift, so they had the day free... only the day was too hot to do anything physical, and they weren't the sort of friends to hide away indoors, savoring the air conditioning while sitting in silence because what they had to discuss they couldn't do in public. Usually, they spent their free afternoons in the park – playing frisbee, biking, or sometimes they went out to the beach at Bitter Lake, but, on that particular July afternoon, Max and Liz found themselves once more parked in the middle of nowhere, the exposed skin of their legs sticking to the seats of his jeep, while the dust which had been kicked up by his tires as they drove down the old, dirt highways was being caked into their bodies by the unrelenting, unmerciful sun. Not a single cloud peppered the blindingly blue New Mexico sky, and the desert was certainly not the place to go if one wanted to seek out the shade.

"Listen, maybe we should just keep driving," Max suggested, already moving on to explain himself without giving Liz a chance to respond. "I know you said you had something you wanted to talk about, but if you get sun poisoning because of me or you have a heat stroke, your dad is going to..."

She interrupted him. "I didn't ask you to bring us out here so we could talk about my dad, Max."

Her words were teasing – he could hear her laughter coloring them in warm tones, but, still, he refused to look at her. Since he had picked her up earlier that day, Max had avoided all eye contact with Liz. Afraid of what he might see in her gaze and, even more, afraid of what he wouldn't see, it had just been one risk he couldn't bring himself to take. Even if the limbo of uncertainty was quickly making him go mad, it was better than the alternative. Insanity – and hope – were always preferable over outright rejection.

Swallowing once, then twice, and then finally a third time – his adam's apple bobbing maniacally as he struggled to clear his dry and tight throat, Max eventually croaked out, "well, uh... what did you want to tell... I mean, uh, what did you want to..."

And then a miracle happened. His inept, clumsy, embarrassingly awkward question was cut short when Liz's mouth was suddenly covering his. At first, that's all Max was aware of: her lips were touching his, but then slowly, as she gently coaxed a reaction from him, everything else about the moment became poignantly clear to him. She was straddling his lap – Liz's legs spread wide to fold around his own, bringing their lower bodies into intimate contact – and barreling, tunneling her slender fingers through his hair. With her short nails, she massaged his scalp, relaxing his shoulders more and more by the moment as other parts of his anatomy came alive with barely leashed tension and pressure. After several stunned moments, Max surrendered happily to her surprise assault, dropping his hands to wrap possessively around her delicately rounded hips. His digits flared wide. While his thumbs rubbed sensuously over her lower abdomen, his fingers stretched to wrap around her bottom, clenching and releasing in a rhythm which matched the rolling and rocking of their lower bodies. And then Liz flicked her tongue against the seam of his lips, and reality fell away.

Max opened his mouth wide, an invitation she readily accepted. At first, her tongue just explored shallowly – running up and then down below to slide against the insides of his lips, but he soon lost patience with the provocative temptation of her delicate actions. He wanted to taste her, consume her, become her, and so Max let go of the last, lingering tendrils of his restraint and took control of their kiss. Wrapping his own tongue around Liz's, he drew her into the sultry, wet recesses of his mouth, drinking from her passion and returning to her tenfold. In doing so, he brought her body even closer to his own, the tender suppleness of her breasts rubbing lusciously against his chest, their diamond hard points finally drilling some sense back into Max's brain... and raging libido.

He broke the connection of their mouths, making sure, though, that Liz did not move from his lap, and rested their foreheads together intimately as they each struggled deliciously for breath. Though his body was no longer surging up into hers, Max couldn't release his hold upon the enticing curves of her bottom, and Liz seemed in absolutely no hurry to break their embrace either. If the sheer agony of his arousal was not throbbing in time with her heartbeat, Max would have questioned if what he had just experienced was actually real or just another of his very realistic fantasies. Then, Liz spoke, and the surreal nature of the moment deepened, expanded, nearly suffocated him in its wonder.

"I'm in love with you, too."He grinned then, and, even without seeing it, Max knew that it was one of those silly, boyish grins that made him appear about twelve, a grin that only Liz Parker could inspire. Despite his joy, though, he was nothing if not practical. "What about your dad, though?"

"While I love my father, Max, I think it would be super strange if I felt the same way I feel about you towards him as well."

Growling playfully, he leaned forward and nipped at the tip of her nose, making Liz giggle, his frolicsome mood a pleasant surprise for the both of them. "You know that's not what I meant."

"I know, and, to really answer your question, I'm eighteen, I'm going off to college in a few weeks, and what Jeff Parker doesn't know won't hurt him."

"What are you saying, Liz," he questioned her, intrigued by the devilish light illuminating her coffee colored eyes.

"I'm asking you how you feel about entering into a secret affair with me?" Before he could respond, she continued, "it's not that I'm ashamed of you, Max. Please don't think that. But I know how tenacious my father can be, and, with me leaving soon, I can't allow you to stay here and face him alone."

"Allow me to, huh?" He jostled her slightly, making Liz roll her eyes in humor.

"Max, you're focusing on all the wrong parts of what I'm saying here. Did the words 'secret affair' not penetrate that thick, warped-because-you're-a-guy skull of yours?"

"Oh, no, trust me," he assured her, smiling once more as he realigned their lower bodies. "It registered."

"And...?"

"And tell me more about what you had in mind."

"Well, we have twenty-three days until I leave, and, in the meantime, I thought you could ravish me whenever we're lucky enough to be alone – you know, quick kisses in the Crashdown kitchen; make-out sessions every morning during our jog through the park... though we'll have to cut down on our route to make time. Damn, what a shame," she added dryly. "And, best of all, heavy petting sessions at night in the back of the jeep while we're parked out here in the desert."

"Of course I want that," he assured her, punctuating his remark with a quick peck to her lips, "but what about after you leave for school? I guess we'll have Christmas break, and we call and email each other... though we'll have to be careful with the former in case your dad scrutinizes your phone bill too closely."

"Yeah, about that...," Liz started, making Max panic slightly when she pulled far enough away from him so that she could rest her hands upon his sweaty, t-shirt clad chest, her fingers sweeping back and forth distractedly while avoiding his gaze. "What if I told you that we might be able to see each other more than just on my Christmas and summer breaks?"

"Liz...?"

Biting her lip, she rushed to admit, "I'm going to Texas Tech."

Texas Tech meant Lubbock. Texas Tech meant that, if he took US-380, he could be with Liz in less than three hours... probably closer to two if he broke a few speed limits. Texas Tech meant she could come home every weekend; he could go and see her on his days off; and, if he was particularly missing her, or needing to connect with her, or craving the taste of her mouth, all Max would have to do was drive to her and spend the night. Texas Tech also meant...

"But what about Harvard, or MIT, or Stanford, or Berkeley, or all those other amazing schools which would be lucky to have you attend their university?"

Liz shrugged. "Harvard's still my dream, but it doesn't have to be my dream now."

"I don't understand."

"In order to do what I want to do someday, I'm going to have to go to school for many, many years and for multiple degrees. I can go to Harvard for my Master's, or maybe even my Doctorate, but to start out there now while I'm just studying for my Bachelors seems ridiculous. While I might be an only child, and while my parents have been saving for my tuition for years, they don't have Harvard money. And Texas Tech is a good school. I can work if I go there, too – save up my money, get an apartment, and become a resident so I can pay in-state tuition. And, best of all," she confessed, now fiddling with the collar of his shirt, "by going to Texas Tech, I get to live a dream that's even more important to me than Harvard: you, Max – being with you. You know, you're not the only one in this relationship who has been crushing on the other for years."

Suddenly, he was bursting with energy, with inspiration, with hope. "And I can get another part-time job and continue saving up as well. Plus, if I apply to community college and prove myself there, I might be able to join you in six months... or a year – whatever it takes. Then, maybe we could get an apartment together, and if I do well enough, perhaps I could prove to..."

"While I love your mind," Liz interrupted him, her forehead once more leaning against his own as her palms cupped his jaw, "think silently, Max; think silently."

As her mouth once more touched his, and their kiss quickly escalated out of control yet again, the last coherent thought Max had was that his dreamgirl tasted like raspberry lemonade and sunshine. The flavor of tabasco had been usurped; it was no longer his favorite essence. Liz was.

; : ;

Ever since their confrontation, Max had avoided Jeff Parker. Now, even with Liz in Texas, he tried to stay away from the older man as much as possible. Though they had been successful at keeping their burgeoning relationship a secret, Liz's father was still suspicious of their friendship, of Max's feelings for his little girl, and he knew that Mr. Parker partially blamed him for Liz's decision to go to school so close to home, no matter how many times she explained the logical reasons behind her choice. Because he worked for him, though, and because Jeff was his sponsor, avoiding his boss was easier said than done, though he was working on the latter of those two complications.

Despite not being a traditional alcoholic, Max still liked going to AA. Sure, there were the steps, and the members were supposed to work the program... whatever that meant, but, for him, the meetings provided him with a sense of belonging, with a sense of camaraderie. And, while he argued that his disease was different than everyone else due to his extraterrestrial nature, his differences were just an extreme case; everyone else who belonged to AA had something about their history or their life which set them apart, too. In their mutual uniqueness, Max found that maybe he wasn't so different after all, and perhaps that was the true beauty of the group: learning that, no matter what, you weren't alone. Perhaps he couldn't completely open up like other members, but he still felt as though he now had a support team, and, someday, he hoped to help someone the way Jeff Parker had helped him. In the meantime, though, because of the strain on their personal relationship, he knew that it was time to find a new sponsor. In fact, he was even considering looking for a new group to join... perhaps one in Clovis.

As for work, though, he wasn't giving up the Crashdown. If it were any other restaurant, he'd gladly turn in one chef's apron for another, but Liz worked there as well... at least for now. Until her Texas residency became official and until he was able to transfer to Texas Tech with her, their plan was that she would come home every weekend. Of course, that meant that she would continue to don her Crashdown uniform and serve greasy spoon fare to the hungry, alien-hunting masses. As long as Liz worked at her parents' cafe, then he would as well... that is, as long as the Parkers didn't fire him. However, because of his tension with Mr. Parker, Max now felt as though he were walking on egg shells while flipping burgers and frying onion rings, and he did everything within his power to avoid the older man.

And that included going to Liz's mother now whenever he had a question, a concern, or a work related issue to discuss. Either Nancy was oblivious to the bond her husband was so quick to sniff out between Liz and Max, or she supported the idea of them being more than friends, because Nancy was just as kind and considerate towards him as she had always been. He was leaning more towards the former option, though, given the fact that she had yet to notice the distance between Max and his sponsor as well.

As he came into the Crashdown that afternoon, Max used the back entrance, knowing that Jeff Parker liked to man the cash register and chat with his usual customers during the lagging hours of the midday. Not only was it a good way to fetter out the town's latest gossip, but Liz's dad thought of himself as the face of the Crashdown Cafe... seeing as how he was the restaurant's owner, so he believed it was his duty as the boss to be front and center for his customers to see and be seen by. Mrs. Parker was the opposite. She was quieter, less outgoing, and really rather shy. While she didn't mind helping out in the family restaurant, she preferred handling the less visible duties. She kept the books, handled most of the stocking duties, and, now that Liz had gone off to college, she also handled the scheduling responsibilities as well... which suited Max's intentions perfectly.

So as not to startle her, Max took care to make plenty of noise as he approached the supply closet, already knowing from his conversation with Liz earlier that her mother had planned to spend her day holed up in the small stock room. Despite having already announced his presence, he still rapped his knuckles upon the doorway's trim, calling out pleasantly, "knock, knock."

Over her shoulder, Mrs. Parker graced him with a smile. "Come on in, Max. I didn't know you were working today? And aren't you a little early for your shift... or am I just that much behind on my task?"

"No, don't worry," he reassured her. "If I were scheduled for the dinner shift, then I'd be early. But I actually had to take the day off."

"Oh? Nothing's wrong, right?"

He grinned, the gesture apparently contagious as Nancy returned it with a grin of her own. "Everything's great. In fact, I just got back from scheduling my fall classes."

"Max, that's wonderful! Your parents must be thrilled... and proud, too."

"Well, it's just Clovis Community College," he informed her. Despite his best intentions, he blushed, too, knowing that she was only so effusive with her praise because of his recent missteps on the road towards higher education.

"Everybody's got to start somewhere," Nancy responded realistically. "Now, pull up a box," she nodded towards the large packages of canned supplies behind her, "and tell me what you're thinking about majoring in."

He did as he was told. "Well, at CCC, I just want to get a semester or two worth of my basic courses under my belt, hopefully pull a 4.0, and show larger, more prestigious universities that this past year was just a fluke."

"Any idea where you might want to transfer to?"

He was purposefully obtuse, shrugging his shoulders in a nonchalant manner. "I have a few schools in mind, and I'm sure my parents will have some thoughts as well."

Mrs. Parker chuckled. "We parents tend to where our children's futures are concerned."

With that opportunity, he decided to feel her out as to her feelings towards Liz's decision to forego the Ivy League as an undergrad and attend a more local, less prestigious university. "What do you think about Liz going to Texas Tech?"

"I'm sure she told you that her father rivaled the Crashdown sign out front he was so angry?" He nodded, Nancy rolled her eyes, and then she continued. "Don't tell my husband this, but I actually think that Liz made the right decision. While I don't doubt my daughter's capabilities, I do think that Harvard, or MIT, or Stanford would have been a huge adjustment for her. She would have gone from being Roswell's bright and shining star to just one of thousands of bright and shining stars. Texas Tech is a good middle ground for her. She'll have some competition, but she will also still have the opportunity to stand out from the crowd as well. Plus, there's always been a part of me which suspected Harvard was more her father's dream for her than Liz's dream for herself."

"You should tell her that," Max encouraged her.

"Maybe I will," she agreed, pausing long enough in her efforts to turn around and offer him a soft, small smile. "Anyway, listen to me going on and on. Weren't you going to tell me about your plans?"

"I'm thinking secondary education, actually," he answered, "but I don't want to teach. I want to then go back and get my Masters in school counseling. I want to be a guidance counselor – work with and help kids who were like me in high school."

"You and Liz with your big plans – she wants to cure diseases; you can't to prevent teen loneliness and depression. You two are so much alike sometimes, it's no wonder you were always lab partners and now friends. I think that's a great idea, Max."

"Thanks, Mrs. Parker."

"But what did I tell you about that Mrs. Parker business?"

He chuckled. "Not to use it, Nancy."

"Much better. Now, I'm assuming you didn't stop by just to keep my company while I tried to make sense of my husband's organizational skills or, more precisely, a lack thereof."

"It's a guy thing," Max told her, snickering.

"Only too true... and very astute of you to realize that already. Anyway," she sighed, placing down her clipboard and turning around to smile at him. "What can I do for you today, Max?"

"I was actually hoping that I could change my schedule. You see, I'm getting a second job in the afternoons... over at the UFO Center actually." Now, instead of trying to hide from alien hunters, he'd be assisting them. It was ironic, really, and hilarious, too. "And I decided to take night classes, so, if a lecture runs over, I won't be late for work. I already checked with Jose, and he'd actually prefer the nights now, because his wife's due at any time to give birth to their first child, and he knows it'll be nearly impossible for him to wake up in time to be here to start prep work by six."

"Let me get this straight: you're going to work two part time jobs and take classes? Just when exactly, Max, do you plan on sleeping, on eating, on studying?"

"I'm only going to take twelve credits this semester, and I scheduled it so that I only have classes on Tuesday and Thursday nights. I'll have Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, not to mention the weekend, to study."

"But that still leaves sleeping and eating," she pointed out.

"I work in diner, so I don't think eating will be a problem. As for sleeping, I've never really needed a lot of rest." Shrugging his shoulders, Max played it off as if this aspect of his physiology was just a strange quirk. "When I was little, I used to drive my parents crazy, because they'd wake up in the middle of the night to find me playing with action figures or legos. At first, they would scold me, but, after a while when I didn't show signs of being tired, they just realized that I was different, I guess."

"Lucky them." Snorting, she recollected, "Liz was a bear if she didn't get eight hours of sleep when she was little. She's still like that, actually."

Max filed that helpful insight away. "So, about that change in the schedule...?"

"Consider it done," Nancy told him. "But, Max, seriously, if anything becomes too much, let me know, and we'll work something out, alright? I don't want you pushing yourself too hard or risking... everything that you've accomplished during these past few months."

Briefly, he wondered if the adults in his life would ever, if not forget, then at least forgive his mistakes from the spring and winter before, but he also knew that those mistakes were probably too fresh upon their minds to be overlooked anytime soon. "I won't, and I will," he reassured her, "come to you, I mean, if things get to be too much. And thanks... for everything."

"It's no problem, and it's my pleasure, Max," Mrs. Parker offered him kindly.

As he left the tiny supply room with a small wave, he had to wonder if Mr. Parker would feel the same way. It didn't matter, though, because he couldn't touch or hurt Max at that point. For the first time in his life, everything was... well, pretty much perfect. He had Liz, he was learning how to make friends and socialize in a healthy manner, his future was back on track, and he had his parents' faith and trust back, too. There was nothing that Jeff Parker had the power to take from him at that point... no matter what the older man might think or threaten him with.