Title: Maybe
Category: M/L, Pre-S1
Rating: PG-13. There's reference to porn. *happy*
Summary: Just a quick peek into what could be brewing in Max's head before Liz found out the secret.
Author's Note: Ok, so this was actually inspired by the song "Iris" by the Goo Goo Dolls, but it turned out lighter than I wanted it to. So you can probably expect a one parter from me soon with more of a darker tone. I WILL be updating RWMH soon, but I was side tracked by this one parter, and wrote this out at Lisa's persistence. So if you have any problems with my lack of updates for RWMH, you're allowed to blame Lisa. *big* Just read and enjoy. It's a shorty.

Thanks to Lisa for staying up with me and listening to my useless chatter. Credit for the title goes to her, because she was the only one who could make a semi decision.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sometimes I wonder if she loves me. Sometimes I wonder if she hates me.

Most of the time I wonder if she even knows my name.

She is beautiful, you know. I’ve never known a woman to be more intelligent, more attractive, more sparkling than the one and only Liz Parker. Not a single creature that walks this planet can match the exquisite sensation that Liz Parker sends through my soul when I see the sway of her hair behind her in the halls of West Roswell High, or when I smell that delicate scent of strawberries she always brings when she sits next to me in Biology.

Liz and I aren’t the same. In more ways than you could ever imagine.

People swarm her in search of friendship, and she returns it with a simple, pleasurable smile.

I have two friends, one of whom is my sister and the other is socially retarded in the most severe degrees.

Liz Parker is undeniably the most gorgeous, exotic woman to grace anyone with an inkling of sight. Her hair is made of only the smoothest silk, and her lips are round and insatiable, calling to me with a soft whisper to kiss those heavenly creations. Her body is curvy in its girly delight, but womanly in the presence it portrays to the world.

I, on the other hand, deal with Dumbo ears and a horribly slouching form.

Liz Parker is free to spend her weekends with the admired quarterback of WRH’s Comet’s football team, Kyle Valenti. She talks on the phone every other night with best friend, Alex Whitman, the school’s most lovable dork, and spends the rest of her weeknights working with her other best friend, Maria Deluca, the most eccentric person to storm West Roswell High. Liz Parker has probably never told a solid lie in her life, and will continue to live that way until the end of time.

I spend my weekends searching out in the middle of the desert for signs of my ancestors. I dread any moment that Isabel, my sister, calls my cell phone, knowing that she needs me to pick up her dry cleaning or maybe the newest magazine with Brad Pitt on the cover. Every night I spend at least an hour fighting with Michael Guerin to leave my room and sleep at his own damn house, and every night I lose to him.

Liz Parker rides home in Kyle’s sports car, where they have probably made out without the prying eyes of her parents. Kyle touches her in places I can only dream of, and he kisses her with lips I would die to be. Liz showers Kyle in love that only a goddess could possess, and she draws strength from the warmth and comfort I’m sure his arms provide her. They may be only nights away from their first beautiful night of lovemaking.

I spend my sexual moments with my hand and “Busty Biker Babes: The Movie”.

There’s only one difference that truly separates the divine Liz Parker from myself, Max Evans. You’ll never be able to tell it by watching us, or by anything others would say about us. No, not a single person would be able to spot the shattering difference between her and I.

That is, unless they were to take our blood samples, because you see, my blood cells differ from hers. Why?

Liz Parker is completely human.

I am not.

She’ll never know though. She’ll never know that aliens walk among her, and I hope she never does. To see that disgust in her eyes, the horror of being tainted with something so impure and unreal, it would only result in breaking me. I would never recover from knowing how she hates me for not being normal, not being what she wants. I doubt she would recover from knowing we ruin her perfect existence, knowing that potentially dangerous creatures walk her Earth.

No, I could not live with the knowledge that I tainted something as pure and beautiful as Liz Parker. I need her like air to my lungs. I need her to be sitting beside me in Biology when my world crashes upon my shoulders, so I can feel relieved for sixty minutes as she gives me gentle smiles during our lab. I need to see her hugging Alex when his band gets another great gig at the local club. I need to see her crying along with Maria when another nameless boy breaks Maria’s heart. Hell, I even need to see her kissing Kyle Valenti in the halls.

She gives me strength even when she doesn’t know it.

That’s why I can never tell her. I can’t let her feel any emotions for me, whether it is pure hatred or utter affection. She deserves more than that. She deserves a man like Kyle Valenti, someone who can shower her with passion and devotion. She deserves friends that can go to the mall with her and buy a new outfit. She deserves to have a brilliant career, and a handsome husband, with a white picket fence, mini van, and 2.5 children.

She deserves everything that I could never give her. She deserves more than me.

Maybe I don’t want her to hate me. Maybe I don’t want her to love me.

Maybe I just want her to know my name.