|posted on 12-Jul-2002 9:59:25 AM by dreamangel|
|Title: Fading Away|
Rating: Um, PG-13 for now, though there will be some cementing later.
Disclaimer: Roswell is not mine.
Summary: Max Evans is new in town and the pretty Liz Parker had caught his eye. (I suck at summaries, if you read the 'Option List' from Being Just Friends, you'll know what this is about.
Author's Note: Liz isn't really mute, she's just introverted, and Max is not a stalkerish type person, he just really wants to get to know Liz. Oh, and Liz was not raped.
She was quiet, always fading into the background. It was in her nature not to be noticed. She knew what happened when you were noticed. People speculated, made up lies about you to explain why you were the way you are. They pretended to be your friend to discover all your secrets, and then they told the world, turning their backs on you immediately.
She had been watching it happen for years. Watched the falsities and pretenders obliterate helpless lives. She watched the popular kids interact with each other, hiding behind masks, grinding real, honest people beneath their high-heels and thousand-dollar sneakers.
The real people didn’t deserve that. The real people deserved respect for allowing their emotions to show. For feeling. For being real.
She was watching her favorite real people at the moment. She was sitting alone under a small tree in a corner of the quad. The four favorites were eating lunch together at a table nearby, laughing at something.
Michael and Isabel Guerin had an amazing brother/sister relationship. The bond between them was unshakeable, not straining even when their other halves were involved. Those were her other two favorites, the bouncy Maria DeLuca and the ever-grinning Alex Whitman.
They had been friends since second grade, and the bubble of happiness enclosing them had been openly expanded to include their new love interests. And then Maria and Isabel had bonded over girl’s nights while the boys watched hockey.
She heard them discussing weekend plans all the time, or laughing over some event that had happened the day before. She yearned to join in, but she always stopped herself from speaking out. She was an unknown, and while there was a slight possibility of them extending their tight circle, it probably would not be towards her.
A flash out of the corner of her eye snapped her out of her wishful thinking. She shifted her attention and gazed intently at the principal’s office window. Movement was made again and she recognized the outline of a body. An outline not familiar to her, which meant whoever it was, was new.
She couldn’t help but feel something big was going to happen. She shivered in anticipation. Good or bad, she wasn’t sure, but her life was going to change.
Next part introduces Max. Please leave feedback.
[ edited 10time(s), last at 27-Sep-2002 5:25:23 PM ]
|posted on 13-Jul-2002 8:40:48 AM by dreamangel|
|Okay, here's part 1. Um...I sent part 2 to Araxie to beta yesterday, but she may be majorly busy with Kalila before she gets to it, so it might be middle of next week before part two. All right, that's it, continue.|
He was the new boy yet again. It was nothing new, his dad’s career in the military had caused them to move around a lot. This time the father had promised the son that this was it. They’d be staying here permanently.
Yeah, right, Dad. He had been promised that once before, and he had allowed himself to make a real attachment and had a best friend. And then, low and behold, Dad’s commanding officer transferred them to Hawaii.
So the ten-year-old little boy he’d been had bid a tearful good-bye to his only real friend. Zan and he had promised to write, and they still kept in touch, but now he was in Roswell, and Zan was still in San Francisco, and they had grown up, and grown apart.
He paused on his way to his new history class and leaned against a row of lockers, preparing himself for the preliminary opinions and cursory stares. The girls would be checking him over and smiling, then batting their eyelashes, and the flirting would begin. Then their boyfriends would glare and warn him off with unveiled threats of mutilation they never went through with.
Taking a deep breath, he reached for the door handle and turned it. The loud commotions coming from within stopped and he felt everyone’s eyes on him. He ignored them and handed his pass to the teacher, who read it over and then looked at him closely. He kept his face expressionless.
“Well, Mr. Evans, I’m Mr. Sommers, your history teacher. Welcome to class.”
“Thank you,” Max muttered. He made a move to sit down, but Mr. Sommers stopped him.
“And since this is history class, perhaps you might divulge a little information about yourself. It will be an introduction to our newest assignment.”
He nodded reluctantly, not sure what to make of his teacher, and faced the class. He got exactly what he was expecting. The boys were sending him to hell with their eyes, and the girls were fawning, leaning forward provocatively. All except five people.
Four of them were basically in the middle of the room. One of the blondes was smiling at him in a friendly way, no implied invitation to partake in her obviously natural bounty. The other one was practically bouncing out of her seat, batting her lashes outrageously, and twirling her long blond hair around her finger in a ditzy way.
Then she broke down in a fit of giggles and the cheerleader-type she was mocking sent her a death glare.
The spiky-haired boy next to her rolled his eyes and almost, unconsciously smiled. The two were more than likely dating. Then he looked up at Max and gave a small nod of acknowledgement.
The blue-eyed boy behind him grinned widely in welcome and did one of those finger twirls, then pointed at the still-giggling girl, indicating she was insane. The first blonde grabbed his hand and scolded him softly, but she was smiling, and never released his hand.
All of this happened in a matter of seconds, and then he was obligated to start talking before the silence became awkwardly prolonged. “Okay, well, I’m Max Evans. I’m sixteen, and an only child. I’m also an army brat, and I don’t know how long I’ll be staying in Roswell. That’s about it.” He nodded, and then looked at Mr. Sommers, who pointed to an empty seat in the back.
As he made his way to his seat, he met the gaze of the fifth person, and suddenly found his planned non-revealing introduction extremely lacking.
The girl’s bottomless brown eyes seemed to swallow him whole, asking for his secrets, questioning his very existence. He felt like spilling the whole pathetic story of his life for a spark of approval from her.
Then she looked away, and he discovered himself seated at his desk, with a pen out and a notebook open in front of him, with no idea how he’d gotten there.
He looked over at her again and was disappointed to find that her attention was locked on her desk. A desk that was too far away from his. She had pulled it as far back and as far over as she could, until she was trapped in a corner with enough space to for two more desks between the person in front of her and himself.
No one seemed to notice the fact that she seemed to draw into herself and away from everyone else. He frowned and then glanced at her from the corner of his eye. Her eyes were darting around the room, stopping briefly every so often, observing every thing. He was under the impression that she spent most of her time in such a fashion. Just watching.
Her intent gaze moved to him, and he met her searching eyes forthrightly. Her own widened and she blushed, looking quickly down, causing her hair to fall forward. The dark, silky mass hung like a curtain, blocking her features from his own stare.
He had to find out who she was.
Her heart was pounding, threatening to jump out of her chest. And she was blushing. She hadn’t blushed since she was six! What was it about this boy that was making her insides quiver?
Through a part in her hair she could see him leaning toward her. Was he going to talk to her? She was torn between two desires. The desire for him to leave her alone, and the desire to cling to him.
Relief broke over her as Mr. Sommers began to assign their next project, but it was tinged with disappointment as Max straightened back up in his seat.
“Everybody has their secrets. There isn't a person alive today who's what they appear to be. Exposing these secrets is the job of the...historian. Even the most normal of us has extraordinary qualities just waiting to be uncovered.” He sent a meaningful look around the room, raising his eyebrow when his gaze landed on her. “For this assignment, I've paired you together. It is your job as...historians, to find out as much as you can about your partner by asking these specific questions, and then writing up an oral history report for next Monday.”
Mr. Sommers passed the questionnaires out, looking at Pam Troy pointedly until she got up and walked back to hand her the packet. She reached out timidly for it, very much afraid of Pam, but then fear turned into disgust as the redhead pretended to “drop” the papers, which landed near Max’s desk.
Liz knew immediately what the tramp had planned. As Max bent down to pick them up, Pam got down on her knees, causing her short skirt to ride up and giving him an unobstructed view of her hefty breasts, which were practically falling out of the slutty little tank-top she was wearing.
To her relief, Max sat up quickly and shoved the papers into her hands, ignoring her smirk and giving no indication that he had liked what he’d seen. Inwardly, Liz was smiling a smug, falsely sympathetic smile as Pam finally gave her the packet of questions. Outwardly, she was a complete blank, giving Pam an empty-eyed look. She received a glare in return, but didn’t feel intimidated. If anything, she wanted to laugh.
Why did she feel the need to actually feel again?
Then she remembered she had to factor in Max. He was, no doubt, the cause of these alien emotions.
“Uh, excuse me, but these are kinda personal, don’t you think?” Maria asked abruptly, waving the packet like a fan. The question brought Liz back from her unusual contemplation of herself, to the contemplation of her fellow students.
“Maria,” Michael hissed.
“Exactly,” was Mr. Sommers response, “Personal is the goal of the historian, Ms. DeLuca. And who knows? You might make a new friend. Okay, so the partners are as follows: Daskal with Hausman, Kalinowski with Nell, M. DeLuca with M. Guerin, S. DeLuca with Thompson, I. Guerin with Whitman, Troy with McMahon, Trussell with Wolf, Harding with Valenti, Lyons with Surmacz, Okabe with Sahn, Papas with Cooney, and Mr. Evans, you will be with Ms. Parker.” He glanced around the room, glaring over his glasses at the groans. “The report is due Monday, I suggest you get together with your partners as soon as possible.”
She was frozen, realizing she would have to speak to him. He was looking around, confused, obviously not knowing that she was Ms. Parker. She saw him open his mouth to ask-
And the bell rang. She flew from her seat, to the door, and out into the hallway. Calming herself, she gathered her things from her locker and then walked to the parking lot, trying to recall where she had parked her blue Mustang convertible.
She remembered parking it away from the other cars, but where exactly, she wasn’t sure. Walking in the general direction, she peered discreetly around, excluding herself from the shouts of “see ya laters” students were throwing across the parking lot at each other.
Ah-ha! There it was. She stopped though. A frown on her usually unexpressive face. She started cautiously to the driver side door, eyes locked on the unknown car parked next to hers.
Who owned a Jeep? She knew which car every student drove, just as she knew every student. She got into her car, still contemplating the problem. She glanced out the window as she put the key in the ignition.
The new boy, Max Evans, was headed in her direction. He was looking at the ground, unaware of her gaze. She put two and two together. New boy + new car = new boy owns the new car. He owned the car.
Those annoying emotions started fluttering up again. She needed to get away from him. He was messing up her life.
Max came back to himself abruptly, surprised as the blue car he’d parked next to this morning peeled out of the lot.
He sighed and hopped up into his beat-up old army Jeep, his mind still lingering on his two mystery women. He needed to find out who Ms. Parker was for scholastic reasons, and he needed to discover the identity of the dark-haired girl for personal reasons.
Driving home was a blur. His thoughts kept drifting back to history class, and that brief instant her eyes met his. The sadness in those eyes…
“Max?” He looked up to find his mother at his door, watching him anxiously. When had he gotten home? “Honey, you’ve been out here for ten minutes. Is something wrong?”
“No, mom, I was just thinking about school.”
“Did you have a good day?”
“Well, I only got to go to one class, the principal just talked forever, and I already have a big project with a partner I don’t know, and I have yet to actually talk to anyone. All in all, it’s been a typical first day.” He got out and headed toward the front door. His mom put her arm around his waist, not being able to reach his shoulders without walking being awkward.
“Don’t worry, honey, things will improve. Just make some friends and have fun,” she told him soothingly.
“What’s the point if we’re just going to be moving in three months anyway?” he asked deprecatingly.
“Max…” she trailed off as she entered the kitchen. He followed reluctantly and sat at the table while she set out a snack and drinks. “This isn’t a temporary thing. We’re living here now. Permanently.”
“That’s what you said six years ago.”
“Honey, you were ten, and I know you miss Zan, and having a real childhood, just as much as I missed having a real home. But this time it’s different. This time your father’s agreed with me. You need a stable life. So we are living here, and you are living here until you go off to college in two years. Now, accept it and settle down. Let yourself have friends Max.”
He stared at the tabletop, not responding. She sighed and patted his hand, then stood up and left the room.
What if he didn’t want any friends? he thought rebelliously.
Unfailingly, of course, he flashed back to those four kids in class, and that girl…
He really needed to find out her name.
Please leave feedback!
|posted on 16-Jul-2002 8:23:52 AM by dreamangel|
|Hi! Um, I'm thinking if there's anything I should note about... but nothing comes to mind except (1) You're gonna get more insight into Liz's introvertion (is that a word?) and (2) This is Max's schedule, teachers, and who is in his classes:|
1-Geometry-Mr. Singer with Michael and Liz
2-Biology-Ms. Hardy with Liz
3-Spanish II-Senora Martina with Michael
4-Gym-Mr. Kraftigan with Alex
5-Trigonometry-Mrs. Linnic with Isabel
6-Chemistry-Mr. Seligman with Liz, Maria, and Alex
7-History-Mr. Sommers with everybody
She woke up the next morning in a cold sweat. The nightmare didn’t stop. She just kept seeing the accident over and over again; the oncoming headlights, the horns blaring, the crunch of metal on metal, the screams, pain, darkness, the smell of blood…
Somehow she managed to stumble into the bathroom and collapsed to her knees at the toilet. Her stomach was rebelling, trying to vomit away the memories.
Finally, weak and shaking, she stood. Fumbling with the shower until it was on and freezing cold. She climbed in, letting the water beat down on her. The coldness jolting her back to reality.
She peeled off her pajamas, dumping them unceremoniously on the floor. Pulling the curtain shut again, she started her morning routine.
The water began to do its job, icing the blood in her veins. Stopping the flow of emotions that were threatening to overwhelm her again.
Stepping out of the shower, she walked naked out to her room, not conscious of the open balcony window. She opened her top drawer, taking out a simple, black, cotton bra and matching panties. Then she made her way to her closet and found the straight black dress hanging toward the back.
Dressing herself slowly, she took into account each and every scar marring her skin. There weren’t a lot. She had escaped relatively unscathed.
The only survivor.
She spun quickly, facing away from the full-length mirror, and padded barefoot out of her bedroom. The rest of the apartment was silent, and she only added to the gloomy atmosphere.
Every room except one was meticulously clean, not one thing out of place, but every room was devoid of personality. It was hard to tell anyone was living there.
And she, so quick to notice everything about anything else, was not aware of the fact. She just walked to the small kitchen and had a glass of orange juice, then walked back to her room to blow-dry her hair and finish getting ready.
She ignored the locked room at the end of the hall. Ignored it the same way she had ignored it everyday for the past ten years. She had no need to remember it. It would only bring feeling back into her life. So she continued to ignore it.
She silently walked down the stairs and into the back room of her restaurant. She took care not to be noticed by the morning staff, and exited the building.
Her Mustang was ready and waiting, and she began to drive to the Roswell Memorial Cemetery. She would spend hours sitting among the three gravesites, just staring at the headstones that bore her family’s names. First there would be her parents, Nancy and Jeffrey Parker, then her Grandma Claudia, who was buried beside a grandfather she had never met.
Today was the day they had died.
He wondered if a person could kill himself with a plastic fork. Because that’s what he wanted to do. Either that, or kill her. She just would not shut up!
“So any way, I said to Pam, ‘Yeah right, of course he ignored you, you practically jumped him in class.’ Well, she just turned red and stamped off like a sunburned hippo!” That annoying giggle again. “You should be careful around Pam, she’s not very discreet. She probably would do you in the middle of class if she had the chance.” She simpered and batted her eyelashes, openly flirting.
“She won’t get the chance,” he said distantly. His wandering attention finally had a point of focus. His dark-haired mystery girl had just sat down across the quad.
“Oh, I knew you were too smart to fall for her. I told her so too,” she chattered on, leaning forward to brush her breasts across his arm. Disgust rippled through him.
He’d considered his options and decided polite “yes”, “no”, and “oh, really?”s were the way to go before, but now he wanted her gone. He didn’t even know why she had sat down in the first place. Okay, he did know why…
“That’s nice Bess,” he said absently.
She blinked blue eyes repeatedly, gave another insipid giggle, and shook her head, sending her blonde curls flying. Then she latched onto his arm. “It’s Tess, silly.”
They both turned their attention in the direction of the voice. A short, dark blonde, blue-eyed boy was standing behind them. He seemed to be sizing Max up. The boyfriend, he decided.
“Kyle!” Tess squealed, releasing Max’s arm, “Sit down!” He sat, and she immediately crawled onto his lap, launching into a make-out session before Max’s very eyes.
Deciding to put a stop to this, he cleared his throat loudly. The two broke apart. “What?” Kyle asked irritably.
“Um, who is that?” He pointed to his mystery girl. Tess followed his finger and frowned.
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know,” he repeated.
“No, I don’t know. Which means she’s not important.” He opened his mouth again, but they had decided to continue with their face sucking.
He saw Kyle’s hand slip under the girl’s short cheerleader skirt, and he figured it was time to make a quick getaway. “I’m…just gonna go…throw my trash away,” he excused himself, and fled.
“Having fun?” drawled a musical voice. He looked up, surprised. Green eyes regarded him with amusement.
“Oh, um, what?”
She gestured to the table he had just vacated. He glanced over and yep, they were still going at it. “Buddha boy and the gerbil.” Now he was just confused.
She rolled her eyes and tossed her long hair over her shoulder. “Never mind. You can come join us if you want. I’ll introduce you to everyone.” He looked from her back to the table with the three other laughing teenagers, and then gave her a grateful smile.
“Thanks. It’s Maria, right?” he asked as he followed her.
“I am not a girl,” he retorted.
She tossed him a cheeky grin and stopped abruptly, causing him to run into her. He glared at her accusingly. She looked serious now, as she leaned in close, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Honey, with those eyes, you should be.” He blinked, then realized she was teasing, and smiled. She smiled back, and then turned to the table.
“Okay, here we have my bestest friend in the whole wide world, Alex Whitman,” she pointed to the lanky boy from gym and history class, “Then my only true-blue girlfriend, who’s a girl, Isabel Guerin,” the supermodel blonde gave a small wave, “and her brother, Michael.”
“Who,” she continued, without acknowledging the interruption, “Is my boyfriend. Though,” she added as an aside in a loud whisper, “he needs some work.” Michael grumbled and she patted him on the head. “Hush up, sweetie. And I, as you know, am the marvelous, fan-tab-u-lous, Maria DeLuca!” She ended in a bow while Alex made trumpeting noises.
Max looked at him questioningly. “I’ve had years of practice with this sort of thing,” he told Max, who nodded.
Maria straightened. “Everyone, this is Max Evans.”
“Hey,” they chorused.
“Hey,” he replied, sitting down.
They continued their conversation, drawing him in occasionally when the discussion turned toward school and classes. He had Michael in first hour geometry (which he was past, but the school hadn’t had anywhere else to put him) and in Spanish II and History as well. He only knew Isabel from History, same with Maria.
“So,” Maria turned to him, “What’s your schedule for the rest of the day?”
“Oh, um,” he thought for a minute, “I have Trig after lunch-”
“With Mrs. Linnic?” Isabel asked.
“I think so.”
“Cool, I have been so alone in that class, and it is way too boring!”
“Anyway,’ Maria cut in, sending Isabel a look, “Continue Max.”
“Okay, then I have Chemistry with Seligman, and then History.”
“Alex and I are in Chem with you,’ she told him, smiling.
“He would’ve figured that out, Maria,” Alex smiled, “We’re the ones who liven it up.” He nodded smugly. Michael snorted and Maria shot him a glare, then started explaining her and Alex’s exploits with combustible gases to a confused Max.
He had made friends with her favorites. The thought almost made her smile, but she resisted the urge. Smiling meant she was feeling happy, and she was against feeling anything at all. Which was very hypocritical, considering she believed everyone else should be real enough to express their emotions.
But even on Death Day, Max made her feel.
There was something about him. Something that made her want to observe him more closely than she ever had anybody before. She could already tell he had a good soul, but he kept a wall up, like she did, only not as high, and not as thick. He had been hurt before too.
She had bee disappointed when she first spotted him with Tess. A pang of something had twisted through her, and she told herself she didn’t care who he made friends with. Didn’t care at all.
But he could do so much better than Miss Bleached-blonde Wonderbra. She was more fake than a Barbie doll for crying out loud! At least Kyle has shown up, he had stopped her before she made a fool of herself. It was obvious Max wouldn’t go for her type.
Liz liked Kyle. True, he was one of those masked populars, but his Buddhism kick let him channel his emotions, and becoming Maria’s step-brother didn’t hurt either. The boy was loosening up, and she had to thank him for his timing.
So Max had left their table and Maria, being the blessedly out-going person that she was, had approached him and invited him to join her. If Liz hadn’t been fond of the girl before, she certainly loved her now.
She looked up from her lunch to the laughing table of five, and found his eyes trained on her.
I'll post three later this week, before I go on vacation, so please leave feedback.
|posted on 19-Jul-2002 10:58:06 AM by dreamangel|
|Okay, I'm gonna quick post this and then get ready for work.|
“Earth to Max, come in Max.”
“What?” He snapped his gaze back to his new friends. Maria was waving her hand in front of his face, trying to gain his attention.
“Whatcha’ starin’ at?” she asked.
“Oh, um…” he trailed off, semi-embarrassed, but he had to find out who the dark-haired girl was. He decided asking couldn’t hurt, and Maria was apt to know. She seemed to know everyone. “Who is that girl?” he inquired for the second time today, “She’s in out History class, right?” The whole table followed his finger, and he noticed the way their expressions darkened with sadness. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“That’s Liz Parker,” Maria told him quietly, “An yes, she’s in our History class, as well as in Chemistry-”
“She’s in Geometry, too,” Michael added.
“Wait. Parker? As in the Ms. Parker who is my partner for the history project?” And who Ms. Hardy had also assigned him to as lab partner. Everyone nodded solemnly as he realized his two mystery women were actually one person. Liz Parker.
He stood up, determined. “Where are you going?” Michael demanded in a hiss as he pulled Max back into his seat.
“To talk to her.”
“You can’t,” he said cryptically.
“She doesn’t talk,” Isabel said softly, “She hasn’t talked to anybody since she was six.”
“She and her parents were in a car accident, she was the only survivor,” Isabel elaborated, “We think it rendered her mute.”
“She used to be my best friend,” Maria whispered, “But after… She just pulled away. She wouldn’t talk to me, wouldn’t play… She just watched me with those empty eyes of hers… She didn’t even speak to Grandma Claudia when she came to take care of her.” Maria’s voice broke, and she wiped her eyes. Alex reached over and patted her on the back comfortingly.
Max looked at them, and then over at Liz, who appeared to find the grass fascinating, and made a decision. “Well, I’m not going to fail this assignment.”
“You won’t,” Alex told him, “The teachers won’t mark you down, they know how it is with Liz.”
He shook his head. “I’m going to talk to her.”
“Okay, just don’t be too disappointed,” Maria warned.
He turned and started to walk toward her, feeling unnaturally nervous. He knew he shouldn’t get his hopes up, but he couldn’t help but wish she’d talk to him. Max was sure her voice would be as captivating as her eyes.
And what did Maria mean by ‘empty’? Liz’s eyes were so expressive, so full of emotions. Mostly sadness, he remembered.
Then, as had been the case twice previously, he found himself at his destination, unaware of how it had happened. He blinked and stared down at her bent head, dark hair forming a curtain around her, shining in the sun.
Liz regarded the pair of Converse All-Stars sneakers with surprise. They had just appeared suddenly and then stopped right in front of her. She looked up, and found herself stunned.
He was gazing down at her, not saying a word, and her bewilderment grew. Then he sat down, still silent, never taking his eyes off of her. Those funny butterfly feelings returned to her stomach as she met his unwavering stare. Were guys allowed to have eyes that beautiful?
“I’m Max,” he told her. Like she didn’t already know. He held out a large hand. She glanced at it warily, and then back up at him, and reached out her own hand cautiously. She couldn’t help but trust him, it seemed so natural.
“Liz.” She winced, her voice was low and hoarse from ten years of misuse.
He looked surprised, but then smiled, and she found herself smiling back involuntarily. Her face muscles were receiving more work than usual in the last two days.
His effect on her was confusing.
He felt as though he had died and she was the angel bringing him to heaven. Her voice was as sweet as he had imagined, low and husky. It sent shivers of pleasure down his spine. She had spoken. To him.
He was pretty much at a loss for words after that. What was he supposed to say? ‘I’ve been thinking about you non-stop since yesterday.’ ‘Can I take you out Friday?’ Or ‘Why me?’ But he couldn’t talk. He just sat and stared into her confused brown eyes.
She returned her gaze to the grass and Max finally sensed her uneasiness. Great first impression, he thought sarcastically. He felt a twinge of panic. He wanted her attention totally focused on him. And he’d have to talk to regain it.
“So…History,” he started. She looked back up at him, and he felt like bursting from joy, but she didn’t say anything, she just watched him. “We have to figure out when to get together. Your house, my house…” A restaurant and dancing, he thought.
She had just opened her perfect little mouth to answer, when the bell rang. The shrill noise signaling the end of lunch and, the end of this conversation. Liz was already up and starting to walk away.
“Wait!” he called, scrambling to follow her. He saw with relief that she had listened to him and stopped, watching him as he approached. “About the project-”
“Later, I have to go,” she whispered, then disappeared.
“No,” he cursed, and shifted around the mass of swarming teenagers, straining to catch one last glimpse of her dark hair or black dress. But no such luck. “Relax, Evans,” he said, giving himself a pep-talk, “You’ll see her after Trig.” The thought perked him up, and he started eagerly to class. The sooner he got there, the sooner he could leave.
And the sooner he’d see Liz again.
He walked into the classroom and spotted Isabel immediately. She waved him over, patting the desk next to her, inviting him to sit down. He accepted gratefully. Hopefully Mrs. Linnic wouldn’t give the whole “Class, we have a new student” spiel. It was getting old.
As soon as he was all settled in, he caught Isabel’s look. “What?” he asked, wondering if he had something stuck in his teeth. God, that would have been embarrassing. What if that was why Liz had been so eager to get away from him?!
“She talked to you,’ she told him quietly, looking as if she was rather in awe of him.
Liz sat quietly in the back of her English class, concentrating on her poetry, ignoring Maria’s quick glances. She knew Maria had seen her actually speak to someone.
But it wasn’t just anyone. It was Max.
She remembered first grade, when Maria had been her best friend. She remembered when the accident had occurred and she hadn’t gone to school for a week. She remembered Maria’s anxious questions when she had finally returned.
She remembered not saying a word.
Eventually, Maria had given up, and so had everyone else, except for her grandmother. Grandma Claudia had come, as Liz’s only living relative, to take care of her. She would tell Liz all about her day and what new project she was studying, and just little things, but Liz still felt no compunction to talk.
Then Grandma Claudia had died. It had been another car accident, on the same day as the one her parents had died on. September 18th. Death Day. The experience only made Liz draw deeper into herself, and she just started to hide from the world.
She was an observer, not a participant.
The opening of the classroom door roused her from her thoughts. Thoughts she didn’t want to have. She believed thinking about her self was futile. After all, there was nothing inside her. She was a void.
“Ms. Parker, the guidance counselor wishes to see you.” A nod was Mr. Coolick’s only indication that he had heard. She gathered her things and headed down to the office. She knew what this was about, it had been going on for the past ten years.
The score: Liz-10, Topolsky-0.
Please leave feedback, and I promise to work on this fic while I'm road-trippin'! Bye.
|posted on 19-Jul-2002 9:44:21 PM by dreamangel|
|You people are so lucky I haven't left yet, and that I love you so much, so here...|
Max nearly raced to Chemistry, but then made a detour to the bathroom. He quickly washed his hands and checked himself over. Fixing his hair slightly in front, he grabbed his backpack, and then jetted to class.
He looked around eagerly for Liz, determined to finish their earlier conversation. He felt a sharp stab of disappointment when his glance did not reveal her dark, drawn-in form. However, Maria was quite animated about being noticed. He gave her a small smile and trudged to the back of the room, stationing himself at the lab table beside her and Alex’s.
“Where’s Liz?” he asked, keeping his voice low.
“She got called down to guidance at the end of English. Topolsky’s always on her to talk about what happened. She says it’ll make her feel better. She’s continually pushing Liz to face things, especially now, and most especially today.”
“Today is the anniversary of her parent’s and Claudia’s deaths,” Maria told him, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“I thought her grandma came to stay with her after her parents died,” he pointed out, confused.
“She did,” Maria confirmed, “But she died last year, in car accident, coming home from the cemetery.”
“Rough,” he said. She’d had it bad her whole life. He felt his heart ache. She didn’t deserve it. Liz deserved a happy, carefree life, with no pain, and no sorrow. And just like that, Max Evans had a mission in life.
He was going to give Liz Parker the life she deserved. One of laughter, and friends, and love.
“Yeah,’ Maria replied, her voice soft with regret, “She’s emancipated now. Foster homes didn’t work out. Apparently they couldn’t deal with the silence.”
Jerks, Max thought, but he said nothing. The fact just reinforced his goal. He didn’t want unworthy people around Liz, they wouldn’t understand her depths, and that could be hurtful to her.
Like that Topolsky woman. He had met her to go over his schedule, and she seemed way to domineering to him. And she obviously didn’t get Liz, or she wouldn’t be so pushy. It wasn’t going to get her anywhere.
She stared at her guidance counselor, not giving anything away. Liz’s unemotional state bothered Topolsky to no end, but Liz didn’t care. She had never liked Ms. Topolsky. The lady always seemed to have a hidden agenda.
“Ms, Parker, you have been to see me every year for the past ten years, and we have yet to get anywhere. I sit here, and I talk, and I talk, and I talk, and you sit there, and you watch. That’s it. That’s all.”
Liz didn’t say a word, she just watched.
Ms. Topolsky sighed heavily. “I have to tell you Liz, if you’re doing this for attention, it’s not working. Everyone ignores you.”
She cocked her head to the side, a little surprised. This was a change in the line-up. Topolsky had traded in her usual speech for some reverse psychology. Interesting… But it wasn’t going to work.
“You’ve basically managed to exclude yourself from the whole of society, and that’s not healthy Liz.”
She sat back in the chair, satisfied. It was the same speech. Topolsky had just changed her introduction. Liz had to give her snaps for creativity, but it still wasn’t going to gain a response.
“You need to talk about your problems Liz. It doesn’t even need to be to me. You just need to let it out. Bottling up your emotions for ten years is just going to hurt you in the end.” She leaned forward earnestly, talking clearly and deliberately, as if her words were of some great import to the girl seated before her.
“I know how this will end Liz. I’ve seen it again and again. People like you, who keep everything inside, they’re the ones who cause the shootings on the news, the ones who write the threatening letters, the ones who attempt bomb scares. I don’t want you to end up like that Liz, I care about you too much.”
Yeah right, she thought, you just don’t want a black mark on one of your student’s records. It wouldn’t reflect well on your “guiding” abilities if I ended up in jail. She didn’t even know why Topolsky would think like that. Liz had seen enough death in the past years to not want to cause it.
But she said nothing.
“You are a good student, and a responsible person, who has a good chance of succeeding in this world if you come out from behind your tree. Stop hiding Liz.”
And still, she said nothing, only watched, her brown eyes blank. Ms. Topolsky sighed again and rubbed her temples.
“All right, Liz, you have again wasted an hour and a half of my time. I hope you feel good about yourself.”
Actually, she felt nothing at all. Not happy, not remorseful, not anything.
“You can go home now, I’ll see you next year. Maybe by then you’ll have come to your senses enough to make some progress, because it will be your last session with me.”
I’m crying myself a river, she thought sarcastically, as she swept out the door. No! Sarcastic was not something she should be. She should be monotone, gray space, a large expanse of emptiness.
Emotions were not an option.
Max was thoroughly depressed by the end of History class. They had been given the whole forty-five minutes to work on their projects with their partners, but Liz had never shown up, and he had spent the whole time doodling until Mr. Sommers called him up to his desk.
Then he had been given the “low down” on a partnership with Ms. Parker. For this assignment, he would only have to report on himself, Liz would be turning a separate paper on herself. Of course, that wasn’t acceptable to Max.
He was determined to uncover all the mysteries of Liz Parker.
So he had gone back to his seat and stared at the questionnaire, doodles and all, and began to write. Her favorite flowers would be white roses, her favorite color a toss-up between red, amber, and emerald green. She loved kittens, and knitting, and…
The roar of an engine drew him from his goofy imaginings of turning Liz Parker into his dream girl. He glanced out the window, and that same blue Mustang from yesterday was racing away from the school.
“Well, there she goes.”
He jerked around to see Maria staring out the window too. “Who? Liz?” he asked.
“That’s her car?”
“Oh.” He was silent, staring yearningly out the glass.
“Girlfriend, you need to cheer up. Don’t be offended. It’s not you. It’s just her. It’s the way she is. I mean, you got her to talk, nobody’s ever…” She shook her head. “Follow us to the Crashdown after school, okay?”
“What’s the Crashdown?”
“It’s a diner, the local hangout for WRHS students. Michael and I work there.”
“Yeah, I’ll come.”
“Good.” She smiled at him happily, and he smiled back. The realization came suddenly that he had gone back on his unspoken promise not to make friends, because he had unwittingly become attached to the group of four surrounding him.
And even more connected than that to Liz.
Now, leave feedback, and then go read Kalila and leave more feedback, or else I'll cry. I'll do it to, don't push me... Bye!
|posted on 28-Jul-2002 9:41:32 AM by dreamangel|
|I'm back! And I'm alive! There was the possibility of a tornado yesterday, but we out drove it! Yea for us! And, as a reward, you get a new part...|
Liz sat at her kitchen table, silently doing her homework. She paused every so often to listen to the ruckus that wafted up through the floorboards. The Café was bustling. Of course, it was Friday, so all the high schoolers would be crowding in to celebrate another week of school ended.
She reached over and plucked a piece of paper from the counter. Scanning it until she found Friday’s schedule. Jose and Michael were on grill with Maria, Courtney, and Agnes waitressing. So basically, Maria and Courtney were working.
Liz really needed to get around to firing Agnes. She worked once a week and took fifteen minute breaks every twenty minutes. Not to mention, she smoked, which was a horrid habit, and the Crashdown was a smoke-free environment.
She could probably manage to sneak downstairs for a glimpse of what was going on, right? It’s not like she’d be caught… Stow it, she scolded herself, you know what, or rather who, you’re expecting to see, and you can just forget it! He’s trouble.
She gulped down disappointment, which was another emotion she shouldn’t be feeling, and went back to burrowing her nose in her textbook, ignoring the sounds below her.
If Michael and Maria were working, then Isabel and Alex would be downstairs, waiting until they got off. And they probably would have invited Max to hang with them, which was something Liz totally approved of.
She just didn’t approve of her desire to go downstairs and be with him too.
Liz shook her head, her distressed gaze landing on an object on the counter. It was a radio that belonged to her grandmother. Liz remembered years of walking into the kitchen to see Grandma Claudia bopping away to the music while cooking or cleaning.
It hadn’t been used in a year. She unfolded herself from the chair and crept warily to the appliance. She noted the dust clinging in the cracks and made a mental note to power clean the apartment tomorrow.
A trembling hand reached forward and flicked the small switch from tape to radio. The melodic voice of Elvis Costello filled the kitchen and Liz gasped in pain before clawing the thing back off.
He knees became weak, and she slowly slid down to the floor, ignoring the cabinet knobs digging into her back.
Her mother used to listen to Elvis Costello on laundry day. She remembered sitting on her bed while her mother folded, singing along, and occasionally bopping Liz on the nose with a pair of socks and a smile.
She wouldn’t cry.
She refused to cry.
Liz stood, still shaky, and turned on the faucet. She cupped her hands under the icy flow and soaked her face, chilling the burning feeling behind her eyes. She stayed like that for a moment, hunched over the sink, then she turned off the water and dried her face.
She glared at the radio and straightened fully. She again turned it on, determined to let it do it’s worse and have no effect on her. The song playing now was another oldie, and she turned it until she came to the station all the students at West Roswell High listened to: KRO-Z. She sat back down at the table and began to work again.
Max took a huge bite of his Will Smith burger and then washed it down with a large gulp of cherry coke. Alex was following suit, his basket of Saturn Rings almost gone, and on his third orange soda. Isabel was watching them, her look an odd mix of disgust and amusement.
“You two are pigs,” she said, and then primly took a sip of her Mercury Milkshake. Max wondered if the dye in it would turn her teeth blue, but decided not, because she had said they were her favorite, and she had a smile so bright it could blind a man.
“Right, Izzy,” Alex retorted, though it came out as a mumble due to the amount of greasy food in his mouth at the time. He grabbed his orange soda and drained it, then cleared his throat. “As if that shake’s not going straight to your thighs.”
Brown eyes widened in outrage, and she huffed, turning her head away. “I can not believe you just said that, Alex Whitman!”
Alex blinked. “So you can dish it out, but you can’t take it?”
She said exactly nothing.
“Izzy?” he tried again, “Isabel, I’m sorry. Okay? I didn’t mean it. Seriously.” He turned her to face him. “You always look perfect.”
She sniffed slightly. “I know. I forgive you, Alex.” She smiled at her boyfriend and he smiled back, and then they kissed. Max watched, wistful, before turning away.
“Aww, that’s so cute! Now stop,” Maria commanded, suddenly there, “You’re making Max sick.”
He gave her a crooked smile, which she returned with a wink, and flicked Alex off when he stuck his tongue out at her. She slid in the booth next to Max, stealing one of his fries.
“’It’s been a hard days night’,” she sang under her breath, “’And I’ve been workin’ like a dog…’ What?” She demanded, glaring at him.
“Beatles?” he commented, eyebrows raised.
“It’s better than nothin’,” she retorted.
“Yeah, right,” he said. Then he perked up, “Hey, does anybody know where Liz lives? She kinda ran off before we got to the actual project portion of the conversation.” He looked around the booth.
“Liz owns the Crashdown. She inherited it from her parents, and there’s an apartment up there. That’s where she lives.”
“Oh.” He sat and let the new information sink in. “Oh!" His gaze became riveted on the door to the back. He looked at Maria questioningly, giving her puppy dog eyes.
“Ohh…Fine.” She mock snapped and stamped her foot as she got up. Max bolted eagerly after her. “It’s the eyes,” she grumbled, then turned her head to glare at him as she pushed open the door. “You are so lucky I like you so much, Mister. For no other person would I willingly let Liz’s personal space be violated.”
They stopped at the bottom of a stairway. Max’s eyes traveled to the door at the top and he stepped forward, only to be blocked by Maria. He looked down, surprised, and caught the warning in her fiery green eyes.
“Don’t push Max, all right?” Take it one step at a time, because if there’s two things she really needs Max, it’s time, and someone to be there for her.” Then she smiled at him. “Go get ‘em, Tiger!”
He rolled his eyes and started upward, then stopped. “Maria?”
“Huh?” She gave him a blank look.
“Do I look okay?” he asked nervously.
She made an exasperated sound in the back of her throat. “Fine, Max, you look fine.”
“Just ‘fine’?” he teased.
“My mistake, I meant: You are the most handsome man on Earth, Max Evans. I am not worthy to be in your magnificent presence.”
“That’s what I thought.” She made another one of those throat noises and turned to go. “Maria?” he asked again.
“What Max? I have to get back to work.”
“I really look-”
“Yes! Now go!”
“Okay!” He watched her go again, and then finally finished his journey up the stairs. He straightened, trying to calm his pounding heart. Then he steeled himself, and knocked.
And then he waited.
Liz could hardly believe herself. She had the radio up full tilt, and was twirling around the kitchen recklessly, singing to herself. It was her first time hearing the song, but she had caught on quickly, and could sing the chorus no problem.
She paused suddenly in the midst of her whirlwind. She thought she had heard a knock, but no follow-up knock was forthcoming. And who would knock on her door anyway? So she continued onward.
“I’m like a bird…”
And then she stopped again. Frozen mid-spin, caught up against the counter, and coming face to face with Max Evans.
Ooh, what's gonna happen??? I know, but I'm not telling. So, that's it for now, remember to go see Kalila for the last part, so you can pick the next story I write! And please leave feedback.
|posted on 20-Aug-2002 5:49:39 PM by dreamangel|
All right, I know I haven't been updating lately, and, unfortunately, that trend will continue for a bit. I have to be up at my college tomorrow, and I won't have internet access for awhile, so bear with me. I will be working on the fic though. Thanks for understanding.
|posted on 11-Sep-2002 4:10:46 PM by dreamangel|
|Okay, it's been forever, but hey, it's a new part! Yea! I really hope it makes some semblance of sense... And I have parts 7 & 8 mapped out as well as an interlude, so you guys shouldn't have to wait as long for an update. I just need to find time to type. And, as a bonus, I will be updating my other two fics today too! Yea! Expect TEOTT around seven-thirty-ish, and YMD eight-thirty-ish. everybody set? Great...|
Now, stare in awe at the banner Destinee made me. I love it so much!!
She froze, and Max fell out of his trance, realizing that he had surprised her. His mouth worked for several moments, trying to find something to say, some excuse to make, but he couldn’t come up with anything. His mind was still fixed on the grace in her small form as she twirled around the kitchen.
She turned around, clinging to the counter, and turned off the radio. It seemed to him like an eternity before she managed to catch her breath and turn back to face him. Her face was closed off again, but her eyes, her beautiful eyes, registered inquiry.
He finally found his voice and looked toward where he had come in. “The door was unlocked.” And then, realizing that that was a horrible excuse, he continued to babble. “I knocked…um, once…and nobody answered, but I could here the music, so I…um…just walked in.” He made a face and gave her a sheepish grin. “Sorry.”
Liz didn’t say anything, just continued staring at him, which made him blush and duck his head. When he looked back up Liz was at the table in the center of the kitchen, straightening up a stack of papers. “Can I come in?” he asked belatedly.
Her head came up and she gave him a scrutinizing once-over before nodding quickly. Max took what he got and strode over to her side. She looked at him widly, hands moving in jerky movements, and he realized that he was invading her personal bubble.
And since he was pretty sure that Liz did not live by Zan’s rule of “Life’s full of bubbles. Pop one.” He moved back, muttering a ‘sorry’ underneath his breath.
Silence ensued, mainly because he couldn’t think of anything to say. And then there was the not being able to take his eyes off of her thing, and of course, his mind was alternating between her dancing, contemplating if she was going to talk to him again, and wondering if he smelled bad, ‘cause Liz kept edging away from him, little by little, but he had taken a shower after gym class, so it couldn’t be that…
She couldn’t look at him, if she did, she’d blush, and she didn’t need that. He was starting to make her uncomfortable. Most people she ahd observed would never shut-up. Max was eerily quiet, and plus he was staring at her, and there was something in his eyes that made her breath catch and then the fact that he smelled really good. It was something she had noted earlier, the scent of soap, leather, cedar, and something she couldn’t put her finger on. It was something unique to him though…
Liz was toying with the idea of saying something to him, if only to get him talking. Then she could watch how animated his face became as he spoke, there had been this light in his eyes this afternoon that she wanted to see again.
“So, what’s your favorite color?” he blurted.
She drew back at his outburst, and took note of the fact that the tips of his ears turned pink when he was embarrassed. It was cute.
“I…I mean, well,” he stuttered, “The history project…It’s one of the questions, and I figured, you know, since both of us seem free, at the moment, we could…um…do it.” There was a heavy pause and his eyes widened. “The questionnaire, do the questionnaire!”
Her mind went blank, and then started racing. He wanted to do the project, right now, when they were alone, together, and his prescence could permeate her skin until she wouldn’t be able to get him out of her head…
And it would too, there was something about Max that made her feel transparent, and that he was the only one who wouldn’t see through her.
She couldn’t let that happen. She wanted to stay invisible, and to do that, she had to stay away from him. But considering he had just walked into her home, that possibility didn’t seem likely.
“I…” she pursed her lips, looking anywhere but at him, and her eyes fell on the dusty radio, which provided her the perfect excuse, “I have to clean the house,” she stated softly.
There, that would make him go away. Which was exactly what she wanted. Wasn’t it?
Clean? Max thought in bewilderment. She needed to clean what? He let his eyes travel over the spotless kitchen, and compared it to the equally immaculate living room he had wandered through earlier. If the rest of the apartment was half as tidy as those two rooms, than this girl was every mother’s dream.
Including his own. He mused over that for a second. What would his mom’s reaction be if he brought home Liz? She’d probably be estatic. She was continually telling him to meet people, have friends, get a girlfriend…But Max had never seen the point with all the moving they did, but now, if he believed his father, they’d be in Roswell for a while.
He’d be near Liz for a while. And that was a prospect he was definitely liking. Now, if only he could get her to open up, to accept him, he might be able to bring up the girlfriend topic in a roundabout way… Thus, both he and his mother would be happy. His dad probably would be too considering Max was pretty sure he thought his son was gay…
“It’s looks pretty clean to me,” he told her.
She shook her head, “There’s dust. I need to dust.”
His eyebrow raised, totally on it’s own accord, and his bullshit-o-meter went off. It was obvious she was nervous with him around. It was also obvious that she wasn’t used to dealing with people up close and personal-like, and she really didn’t want to do a partnered project. Her first one in years.
And so, Max decided to add another facet to his mission. He had to get Liz Parker some friends. And he was volunteering to be the first.
“So tomorrow then,” he suggested, “We can even meet at my house if you like.”
She stared at him, brown eyes narrowed suspiciously, and he was pleased when she couldn’t think of anything to say to contradict him. “I prefer to work here,” she finally replied.
“Cool,” he agreed easily, “Say around one?”
She thought for a moment, then nodded. Max waited a bit, but then realized he wasn’t going to get a verbal commitment from her.
“Great, so I’ll come by then, and we’ll work on the project…” He trailed off andstood there, hands in his pockets, knowing she was expecting him to leave, but not really wanting to go. There was this loud, awkward silence, and he felt it his duty to break it. “So…”
Her eyes slid from the tiled floor to his face, and he broke off what he was saying in admiration of them. They were so beautiful, deep and dark, fringed by black lashes…And the haunting sadness in them gave her this mysterious, ethereal quality that he found vastly appealing.
She cleared her throat promptingly and Max remembered that he had been talking. Now, if he could recall what he wanted to say…Oh! Yeah! “Did you want to come downstairs for dinner?” She got this cornered rabbit look, and he regretted having to this, but he laid down his trump card. “The gang’s all down there, and I know Maria would really love to talk to you.”
That had done it, he saw her waver, caught the capitulation in her eyes, and hid a grin. She bit her bottom lip, an action that captivated him, and gave a small nod. “I’ll come.” He let his grin loose and grabbed her hand, tugging her out of the kitchen.
“Just for a moment though…” she protested.
He ignored her attempts to free her hand, pausing only to let her turn off lights and lock the door. When they were finally on the descent to the break room, she gave a whimper and dug her heels in, shaking her head. “I can’t.”
“You can,” he assured her, voice low and tender. She ceased her struggling and gazed at him. He gave her a slow smile, and it seemed to soothe her, for she gripped his hand again, sqeezing it for support, and let him lead her down the rest of the stairs.
By some chance of fate, the dining room of the Crashdown was practically deserted. The only people still there was his group. When Max came through the turquoise door from the back, Liz in tow, Isabel and Alex were in a state of shock, Michael conveyed his surprise by raising one eyebrow, and Maria had her back to them. At her friends faces though, she turned, and her jaw dropped open at the sight of Liz holding Max’s hand.
Liz turned from the rain pattered window and looked solemnly up at her grandmother, who stood in the doorway. She didn’t say anything.
After a moment Grandma Claudia’s warm blue eyes grew a little sad, but she rallied with a tiny smile. “Maria’s here to see you,” she told her.
A blond head poked it’s way into the room, and a smiling, shining Maria looked at her best friend, “Hi, Lizzie! Want to come outside and splash in puddles? There’s some nearly a foot deep!”
She stared at the other girl, and then turned back to the window, observing how gray the rain made the world look.
She tilted her head a bit, and her brown hair fell so that she could she through the strands. Maria stood in the doorway in her red raincoat and matching umbrella, confusion on her face.
Grandma Claudia sighed and lay her hands on the little girl’s shoulders, “Maybe another day, hmm, Maria?”
Liz watched them leave the room through her curtain of hair, and then went back to contemplating the dreary, dismal weather. She was only six years old, but the gray had already found it’s way into her soul, a complete contrast to the bright girl who had been here only seconds before.
Liz never spoke to Maria again.
That same voice, older now, but just as vibrant. Liz felt the forbidden tears prick her eyes and she gave Max’s hand a squeeze for strength, and then walked hesitantly to her one-time best friend. Maria smiled, and threw her arms around her, causing Liz to do the same, and the hugged like little girls, long and hard.
“I missed you,” Maria murmured, a sob in her tone.
“I’m sorry,” Liz whispered back, tightening her hold, the same catch to her voice as Maria had. “So sorry, Maria.”
It was a few minutes after the emotion-filled embrace between the long-lost friends, and everyone had pretty much situated themselves around the booth. Isabel and Alex sat on one side, with Michael on a chair near them. Maria sat beside an awkward Liz on the other side, and Max stood protectively over the dark-haired girl, aware that he was hovering, but not particularly ready to stop.
There’s basically been a hush over the group since Liz joined them. It was almost as if they were in awe of her, and they wouldn’t stop staring, not even Maria, who was golding Liz’s hand as if afraid if she let go Liz would disappear.
Max looked around and found a topic of discussion. “Where is everybody?” They all looked at him, except Liz, but he could hear her sigh of relief once the intense stares had been removed.
“Oh,” Isabel made a face of disgust, “One of the football players declared a kegger at his house before the game tonight and everybody was, like, gone in sixty seconds, I swear.” She shook her head, and took a sip of Alex’s soda.
“And then,” Michael continued, “With no customers, Agnes and Jose went out back for a pack of cigarettes, and Courtney punched out to go to the party.”
“They just left you and Maria to deal with everything?” Max demanded.
Michael shrugged, “It’s not like we can’t handle it. And it is a game night, so the dinner shift won’t be too busy.”
Max shook his head and looked down at Liz, who was frowning. He was about to ask her what the matter was when his phone rang. “Hello?” He rolled his eyes as his mother answered back. “Yeah…no, Mom…fine, YES, I’ll be right home…five minutes, Mom, I promise…Rolls? Yeah, I’ll pick them-Yes, I’m…Mom, I’m going, okay? Okay? Bye…I love you too…Bye. I said I love you! Uh-huh…Bye, Mom.” He flipped the cell phone closed, and sighed.
“I have to go.” He looked with regret down at Liz. “You gonna be okay?” She nodded, and Maria glared at him.
“She’ll be fine Max, now go, your Mommy’s waiting.” She smiled at him sweetly and Max gave her a death glare.
“I’m going,” he retorted, and started toward the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow Liz, one o’clock.” She nodded again, and gave him a small wave good-bye.
The grin didn’t leave his face until he got home and saw what his mom had made for dinner.
After Max had left, there had been some attempts at small talk made at the table, but most of them died out before they really got started. She knew it was her fault, they could talk and laugh easily with each other, she was just inhibiting them. They were afraid to say something wrong in her presence.
Luckily, she had managed a quick getaway. People started coming in for dinner, and Agnes and Jose wandered back in from the alley, and she had bolted as fast as she could for her sanctuary.
Her mind had been whirling, so she had thrown herself into cleaning the apartment. Dusting every end table, ever appliance, every figurine, washing the windowsand kitchen floor, vacuuming each carpeted room, Ajaxing the bathrooms, until her mind was numb.
Then she took a cold shower and fell into bed a little after two in the morning, falling, for the first time in ten years, into a dreamless slumber.
Please leave feedback!
|posted on 11-Sep-2002 5:52:43 PM by dreamangel|
|And, because I really just want to show them off, more banners that Destinee made for me! Yea!!!|
Those are for my other DR fics, before this one, and I have two others for my other fics, but you'll see those when I update those fics. They're really, really cool too. THANKS SHERRY!!
[ edited 1 time(s), last at 11-Sep-2002 7:53:26 PM ]
|posted on 27-Sep-2002 5:24:28 PM by dreamangel|
All right, you guys, I've got some bad news and some good news, and some so-so news.
Bad news: I'm putting this fic on hold.
So-so news: I promise to work on it in my free time!!
Good news: Why am I doing this? I got a challenge!!! Yea! And it is so cool. Abbimorgan issued it, and I have accepted it, because I just couldn't pass it up. So that will be starting, I'll type up another note when I figure out a title.
More news: TEOTT is finshed, that means a "Fic Choice List" is up, which means you guys get to decide. So far, it's looking like Only Skin Deep is winning, but if you want something else, you better go vote, you have until Sunday!
End of news.