|posted on 23-Oct-2001 1:35:41 PM by Phoenix82|
Title: Island in the sun
Disclaimer: none of these characters belong to me; Roswell belongs to UPN and the song’s credit’s go to weezer
Category: everyone, but mostly ML- AU
Summary: Liz is forced to spend the summer with her father, his wife and her half brother. On the island in the sun, she finds friendship and love; when it’s time for her to leave, she finds herself trapped between two worlds.
Feedback: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!!!! I could care less if it’s one word. I really need some fb to know if the parts I’m writing are any good or not. Thanx!
I'M CHANGING THE NAME OF THIS FIC TO ISLAND IN THE SUN, SO LOOK FOR IT ON THE BOARDS UNDER THAT TITLE!!!!
The cool air nipped at my bare arms and I shivered, trying desperately to hide the tears I knew were shimmering in my eyes. I shivered slightly and looked around for a distraction- anything that would delay what I knew was coming next. I had arrived here expecting to hate it, but somewhere in the thrilling summer that had changed and now I didn’t want to leave. I was trapped between two worlds- more different than anything I knew. I looked through the worn screen door of the house to my right and saw my bags packed beside the door, my purse hanging off the staircase with my ticket laid on top. That ticket meant home; all the familiarity, comfort, family; all the things I’d known forever. But towards the dark street sat the jeep, and in it all the new connections I had made; a world completely different than my own. Here I had family- family stronger than mine would ever be. And I had love. A love stronger than any I had ever known, stronger than any I ever will know. I looked into his amber eyes, immediately becoming lost in him as I wondered how I had gotten to this point.
Three months earlier
I stepped off the plane, relieved that I no longer had to hear the baby crying behind the small divider between first class and second, but already missing the large seat and constant service I had received for the past four hours. The airport wasn’t very large, but a steady stream of people flowed from behind me, making it practically impossible to recognize any faces.
“Lizza!” the familiar voice rang out over the dull mumble of the passengers around me. It had been my childhood nickname, but no longer did I let anyone call me that. Michael appeared in front of me, spiky hair and all and hugged me quickly before grabbing my bag. “How was the flight?” he asked curiously.
“I’ll spare you the details.” I replied coolly as we made our way through the terminal. He laughed, putting his arm around my shoulders and I resisted the urge to shake them off, not wanting his probably grimy hands on my clothing, let alone my skin. I don’t want to be here; in this grimy airport and with these random people. I didn’t want to smell like the beach, or have fun “tanning my complexion” as my Mother so delicately put it. She’s off in France with some guy she met only two weeks ago, and I’m stuck here; in the midst of beach bums and bimbos. After we had gotten my bags, we made our way to the parking lot, jumping into a dark green explorer. Michael quickly backed out of the spot, music immediately blasting from the radio, a soft breeze filtering through the warm car. His driving was erratic, as I had expected, and I slid the seatbelt across my lap, pulling it taught with a nervous smile. This was bound to be a long two hours.
And believe me, it was.
It was filled with humid, sticky air and bits of conversations we both didn’t want to be involved in.
“So- how’s your Mom?” he asked, keeping one eye on the road.
“She’s fine.” I didn’t feel the need to share the details of our relationship with him- it was none of his business. Quite honestly, I was pissed with her. She had never wanted me to come visit Michael, Fiona and my Father, except when it was convenient for her. For example, last week when she casually mentioned that Robert had asked her to go to Europe over the summer. Her new boyfriend was my least favorite of her recent ones. Robert Brajot was the perfect guy to my Mom;
rich, handsome and getting richer.
He had enough money to liquefy it and fill his house; and I guess I’m the only one who realizes that it’s a mutual physical attraction. In any event, he was the reason I was stuck here, trying to get my hair into a ponytail as we sped down Old Montauk Highway. I stared out the window at the endless dunes covering the horizon, occasionally dipping low enough for me to get a glance at the glittering ocean. Michael checked his watch, lowering the radio a little.
“You hungry?” he asked and I shrugged. Truthfully, I was starving. “Mom said I couldn’t bring you back before four and it’s only 3:20,” he explained. I nodded casually, returning to my dune watching. The dunes quickly became the beach as we entered the town, passing quaint motels and apartment co-ops. We came over a small hill and Michael slowed down for a moment so I could enjoy the view. I could see everything in town all the way out to the point, six miles ahead of us. It was beautiful. He sped up again, coasting down the hill with ease as if he had done it a thousand times.
You know you’re in suburbia when there isn’t a single traffic light in the entire place.
Not that I didn’t live in suburbia. Roswell isn’t exactly what you call a city, but at least it stayed occupied year-round. After summer ended, the tourists left and most of the shops closed down. Roswell is a year-round tourist attraction. Michael made an illegal u-turn and I gripped the car door, cringing as someone slammed on their brakes behind us. He slid easily into a parking spot in front of a café parallel the beach. I bent my head to read the sign that read ‘The Shack’
“The foods not the best, but the service is great,” Michael said as we stepped inside. I caught one look at the waitresses’ uniforms and chuckled.
“I’ll bet.” A petite blonde girl stepped towards us, smiling warmly at me.
“Lizza?” she asked. I knodded, curious as to how she knew my name. She stuck her hand out and I shook it. “I’m Maria.”
“Maria’s my girlfriend,” Michael added and Maria’s eyes twinkled.
“You guys here to eat?” she asked and Michael nodded, ushering me towards a booth I got a feeling he had staked a claim on.
“I’ll be right back,” Michael said, excusing himself to the restroom. Maria sat down in her place, first jotting down my drink order before making friendly conversation.
“So Lizza, you’re here for the entire summer?” she asked curiously.
“It’s Liz,” I said quickly and she blushed. “And yes, I’m kinda stuck here.” I mumbled. She hit my hand, resting on the table.
“It’s not that bad here. I mean, half the guys in town don’t have shirts on,” she giggled. My eyes darted into the street, and sure enough two guys walked by holding surfboards and lacking most clothing. I raised an eyebrow and she followed my gaze into the street.
“That’s Tony and Dave Corson; totally off limits unless you have a death wish,” she said with a chuckle. “So, do you have a boyfriend?” she asked curiously and I shook my head quickly.
“Well we don’t want you to be lonely for three months, now do we?” she said suggestively.
“Is this the infamous Lizza Parker?” a tall girl asked. She had short, dark brown hair and piercing brown eyes decorated with little makeup.
“It’s Liz,” I said, shaking her hand.
“Isabel Evans; Izzy works though.” She slid into the booth beside Maria. “Did I happen to hear that you don’t have a boyfriend?” she asked with a blush. I shook my head in agreement and the two friends turned to each other.
“Max?” they asked. They turned back to me as if checking if I would meet the standards, then back to each other.
“That look on either one of your faces is never a good thing,” Michael muttered behind me. They both scowled at him, Maria’s head turning when a customer called her name. Rolling her eyes, she climbed over Isabel, kissing Michael on the cheek.
“I’ll be right back with you drinks,” she said professionally.
“We’re going to set up Liz with Max,” Isabel said with a smile.
“Oh God not again,” he muttered. My mind wandered to who Max was and what he looked like. For all I knew, he was a dog.
“I gotta go, but you’ll meet him tomorrow at the party.” Isabel said, making an attempt to stand. “You are going, right?” she said quickly.
“Whatever Liz decides,” Michael said defensively.
“Then I’ll see you tomorrow,” Isabel said. I watched her leave and Michael and I were left in silence. My mind was crammed with new names, information in places, but one thought stood out above others.
Who is Max Evans?
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[ edited 1 time(s), last at 23-Oct-2001 1:37:16 PM ]