|posted on 18-Jul-2002 7:21:11 PM by Anniepoo98|
|I am evil, I shall burn in hell. We all know this. I started another story. I tried not to, but I just couldn't help myself. Forgive me please... and read. Plus, nothing says forgiviness like feedback|
Title: Everyday Down
Author: Annie (anniepoo98)
Disclaimer: I only own the story… you know that!
Summary: AU/CC Liz POV. Liz is recovering from a tragedy when she moves to Roswell. Can the new people in her life help to heal her.
Reminders. They’re everywhere. A photo here, a secret place there, and even a whiff of a scent that was uniquely them. That’s why we moved. There were too many reminders for my parents, taunting them with they lost. What I lost.
And now I am standing in the alien capital of the world. Just take a little guess where that is.
Bingo. It’s Roswell.
Roswell, New Mexico. Well, for being a place in the middle of a desert, I guess it’s not that bad. Hell, it’s bigger that my old hometown. Not to mention, Roswell has a mall and a dance club. We only had a theater in Monticello. In other words, we made our own fun. That’s what R….
Anyway… you know those reminders I was talking about?
Yes... I know... short. I'm just testing the waters before I post the first part... so please let me know what you think!
[ edited 4 time(s), last at 22-Jul-2002 10:55:41 PM ]
|posted on 18-Jul-2002 7:37:13 PM by Anniepoo98|
|Nope, I mean prologue. Annie just got hit with the stupid stick this morning. Sorry about that, but Thank You for pointing it out.|
|posted on 19-Jul-2002 4:02:26 AM by Anniepoo98|
|I got the first part done and I couldn't wait to post it. Hope that you like....|
"Don’t you look stunning," I say to the image staring back at me. I hate first days. Nothing but nervous knots and butterflies invading your stomach. Your hair never wants too look right, and lipstick has a even stronger graviton towards your teeth.
Hair looks crappie up.
Hair looks crappie down.
Half-ponytail will have to do.
Another reason why this year has to be the worst one ever. I get two. At least back in Monticello I had an idea what to expect. Roswell is entirely new territory. And I don’t even have my rock beside me, offering protection.
"Don’t cry," I scold the image in the mirror. "Smeared mascara leaves a girl with raccoon eyes." Tips from some one wiser than me.
After one last glance, I decide that I am ready to go. I make my way down the stairs of our new home, which I have dubbed the pig pen because of all the newspapers and boxes laying about from the move.
I have one mission right now. To get out of the house without….
"Lizzie, are you going?"
… my mother stopping me. I turn to see my mom dressed in some of her old sweats, logos from her alma madder plastered all over them. "Yeah, mom," I say in a low tone. "I don’t want to be late for my first day at West Roswell High."
"Are you sure that you don’t want me to drive you?"
I nod my head. Oh yeah, I’m sure. I know that she is just trying to be supportive and comforting, but it’s the last thing I want. I want to be left alone.
Subtle hints aren’t getting the point across. I’m thinking for my next move, subliminal messages. What do you think?
Oh no, here comes the look. The disappointed-parent look. The one you only get when you’ve done something so horrible they can’t even think about it or when they can’t help you.
I hate to tell you mom, but this is something I have to handle on my own.
"Okay Lizzie," my mom whispers. "Have a great day at school."
I manage a weak smile. "Thanks."
Driving. Driving is good. It gives you time to think about stuff.
Want to know what I’m thinking about now?
I’m wondering why they’re so concerned about me. After all, they should be grieving about what they lost in this deal. Cause when all is said and done, they lost a daughter.
Want to know what else I’m thinking?
Who the hell is going to show me around school? I’ve seen all the movies. I know who they send to guide the poor unsuspecting new kid around. The nerd’s nerd. The guy who spends his Friday nights cleaning his pocket protectors while waiting for the next episode of Star Trek or the X-Files to come on.
Now I’m scared. Bad imagination.
Found office. Check. Thank God it is right next to the front doors and labeled clearly. My skill for directions is somewhat askew today. It took me 20 minutes to find the school.
Glad I left early.
Office people seem nice. They want something from me, of course. As long as I am a good little girl and behave, we will have no problems. They want me to leave this office and never come back.
That’s just fine with me, office people.
I just want to be left alone.
So much for that thought. I look up only to see a tall dark haired guy looking down at me. He points to me. "Are you the girl I’m suppose to show around today?"
Someone forgot to watch the required movies. This guy doesn’t look like a nerd. I don’t see any pocket protectors or glasses with tape on them. In fact, what I see is … well… good.
Now, he’s just staring at me, giving me this look like I have alien antennas attached to my head or something. And it dawns on me that my current thought process has taken too long. Shit.
"Yeah," I finally answer him, trying to keep an average smile on my face. What??? I can’t be a little happy? Something is working out in my favor for once.
"I’m Max Evans," he introduces himself, extending me a hand.
I look down at his hand, then back up at him. Who are his parents? Lawyers or something.
Ah… what the hell? You only live once. I shake his hand. He’s got a nice firm grip, I think as I wince.
"Sorry about that," he apologizes.
I shake my hand, trying to get some of the feeling back in it. "That’s okay," I mutter. "I didn’t need that hand. God gave me another one just in case."
He lets out a little laugh. "Well, Elizabeth…."
"Liz," I tell him. "Call me Liz. I hate Elizabeth. Too many letters. Gets confusing, you know, with the a coming after the z and all."
He laughs again.
Two points for me. What can I say, guys like ‘em dumb. Tips from someone wiser than me.
"Mrs. Wright’s class is this way," he said, pointing down a long corridor. "She teaches AP English."
I quickly follow him. He walks a little on the fast side. "You’re walking a little too fast," I mention as I practically run to catch up.
His pace slackens. "Sorry about that."
I shrug my shoulders. This guy seems to be way to nice.
You want to know what I’m thinking now?
What’s his flaw?
"Hey Max, can I ask you a question?"
"Sure," he says, nodding his head.
"What’s your favorite TV show?"
That one caught him off guard. Judging by the look on his face, that was the last question he expected me to ask. Well worth it. His expression was priceless.
Ooh, he’s thinking.
"Law and Order," he tells me after another moment of deliberation. Oh yeah, his parents are lawyers.
Jackpot. No nerd guide for this girl today.
"Although, X-Files is a close second."
My groan is still echoing throughout the halls of West Roswell High.
So... what did you think? Let me know... PLEASE!!!!
|posted on 22-Jul-2002 10:53:52 PM by Anniepoo98|
|Hey everyone... thank you so much for the feedback! You know how much I love it. Here is the next part. These Dreams or Ordinary Day should be updated sometime tomorrow, or that is my current plan. Anywho, let me know what you think of this part.|
Nothing but love!!!!
They have to have some sort of radar. That is the only explanation.
You know the ones. The perky, happy, hippie girls that can sense a negative vibe coming from any person within a five mile radius, track them down, and make it their goal in life to bring said person sunshine with a dash of happiness.
Mine is called Maria, and ever since first period, she has been attached to my hip.
It’s now lunch.
I’m going to kill her.
I like Maria, really I do. She seems like a nice person and her intentions are good. She wants to make sure that I will be accepted into this new version of high school society.
I just want to be left alone.
"So Liz, tell me more about yourself."
I’m going to kill her dead.
"There’s nothing special to tell," I say, managing a very weak smile.
"I bet there is," she laughs. "I mean, you’re not from around here. You’ve had a life somewhere else."
I feel like am about to start twitching. "Not an exciting one," I force out.
Let it drop, let it drop, let it drop.
Maria laughed again. "Still, it was in some place other than Roswell."
I open my mouth, ready with some snide comment that will end up coming out sweet or endearing and definitely not rude at all. Yet, that is when Maria chooses to start jumping up and down, waving at a group of people coming our way.
"Over here," she yells.
I’m wondering if I will ever get the hearing back in my left ear.
A tall lanky boy with an equally tall blond and another guy wearing a letterman’s jacket stop in front of us.
"Hi," tall and lanky says. I’m thinking… a young Tom Hanks.
The blond waves. I’m thinking … supermodel wannabe.
"Howdy," goes Mr. Football. I’m thinking… shoot me now.
"Liz, this is Alex, Isabel, and Kyle," Maria takes it upon herself to do the introductions.
I give a little wave. This is comforting, everyone just staring at me and all. Where are alien antennas when you need them.
Tall and lanky… a.k.a. Tom Hanks Jr.… a.k.a. Alex takes a seat next Maria. Isabel sits down next to him, and Kyle makes his way to the other side of the table. "So, Liz. New in town?"
No buddy, I’ve been here for years. How about you?
"Yup, brand new in town," I tell him, without a hint of sarcasm in my voice. Okay, maybe just a little.
Isabel rolls her eyes. "Thanks Mister States-The-Obvious," she teases.
"Hey," Alex defends himself. "I was breaking the ice."
"Oh yeah, Alex, she’s really opening up to you," Isabel taunts. "I can just feel the bond growing."
I’m still here. No … really… I am.
"She sitting right here," a voice comes from behind.
My head whips around and I see a Max Evans standing right behind me. He looks down at me. "Sorry about that," he apologizes. "They tend to do that sometimes."
I turn back to the table, taking an apple out of my backpack. "No problem."
"So Liz," words finally make their way out of Kyle’s mouth. "Tell us about yourself?"
That’s it. I can’t take it anymore. I jump up from my chair, practically knocking Max over in the process. "Iwouldificouldbutigottago."
Was that English?
Judging from the looks on everyone else’s face, they’re apparently wondering the same thing.
"I wanted to go meet my science teacher." Nice save. "Physics is one of my favorite subjects and I wanted to make sure that I’m not behind or anything." I am good.
"Hold it still," a guy demanded.
"But it’s wiggling," a girl whined.
"We need to know how big it is," the same guy said.
"Then let me get the ruler," the girl told him.
"Just look at it Tess. It looks bigger then the others, right?"
Want to take a guess at what I’m thinking?
Yeah… me too.
"Great," the guy groans in frustration. "It got away. Now what?"
Needless to say, I am thoroughly confused now. How about you?
I take a step forward, praying that it is a good time to make my presence known to the two students huddled into a corner of the science lab. "Excuse me," I squeak.
They nearly jump out of their skins. "What the hell," the guy shouts. "Don’t sneak up on people like that."
"Sorry," I whisper. "I was just looking for the science teacher."
The guy grunts and turns back to the table.
The blond girl (Tess I’m assuming) slaps him on the shoulder. I like her. "Sorry ‘bout him. He was raised in a barn," she jokes. "My name’s Tess."
Yeah, kinda figured. "I’m Liz."
"And I’m annoyed," the guy grunts again.
"More like annoying," Tess shot back.
"Why don’t you go find Kyle and maul him in a broom closet or something," Mr. Piggy mumbles.
"That would leave the Eraser Room open for you and Maria," Tess retorts.
Kyle… Maria. Oh no. I can immediately feel my hand come into contact with my forehead. This is more of the wonderful group that has decided to adopt me. Sort of like weeds. You leave them alone and you want them to leave you alone, but they just keep multiplying.
"Ignore him," Tess says, breaking me out of my stupor. "That’s just …"
Oh God! I actually said that outloud.
Tess is nearly on the floor because she is laughing so hard. The guy, on the other hand, is just glaring at me. "I prefer Michael."
Now I’ve done it.
Crappie first day. CHECK!