Hey All!!! New fic... thought I'd try it out. I really like this one for some reason... so hopefully you guys will too! Ok here goes....
Title: The Art of Living Sarcastically- By Maria DeLuca
Rating: PG-13 (don't know if it'll be more... most likely not)
Summary: AU fic. Maria POV. Maria DeLuca lives with her dad, her brother and her cousin Sean in NYC. Until a terrible tragedy sends them to Roswell New Mexico. There she meets up with her life long friend Liz Parker, and embarks on an insane and mostly humorous discovery of self. (Woah... not a bad summary huh? lol)


I swing open the bathroom door and feel the steam overwhelm my senses. Jesus Christ, it must be like 150 degrees in here! I look over, the figure of a wet, naked male catching my eye.

"Ria!!! Will you close the frickin' door!?"

"Oh! Sorry Steven! Just getting my bra!"

"Stupid idiot, don't know howtoknockeven...."I grab my bra as quickly as humanly possible and slam the door shut. Well, if it's possible to add to my list of humiliations, that was definitely high upon the list. Seeing my ten year old brother naked is just... well scary. I look down at my red wonder bra as I head into my room. Stupid piece of crap. It's done no wonders for me lately! Of course, I am quite the hopeless case. I look down at my pathetic excuse for boobs. Yes... I have a boob confidence issue. It must have started in the third grade. I seemed to be one of the early bloomers, a child that was maturing early into womanhood. Of course, it seems somewhere along the way I got stuck. I practically have the same size boobs as I did in third grade. I am starting my senior year in high school. How sad and pathetic. However, that is my life.

I throw off the towel and wrap on the red bra with the matching panties. Not that anyone checks to see if I match my bras and panties, but it's always nice to know that in case I were to get into a car accident and my clothes were to be ripped, the officers and doctors that take good care of me would know I am a lady that takes fabulous care of myself. Conceited? No. Ridiculous? Maybe. Crazy? Ding ding! You win today's million dollar prize!!!

I throw on the short summer dress Mom gave me for Christmas two years ago. It's been sitting in the beautiful angel bag she gave me, wrapped in cream and gold tissue paper. I've never been able to take it out... until today. I look at the dress as I stare at my reflection in the mirror. The clean white satin falls softly over my skin, the stretch waist under my breasts giving an impression of a bustline. GO MOM! She knew about my boob issue! The red swirl pattern on the dress, lined with some purples and pinks make the dress look exotic and exciting. The open kimono type sleeves add a third dimension to the dress, finally giving me a complete hippy feel. Mom always knew exactly what I'd love. This dress is a complete representation of me and a last token of her. I shake off the tears threatening to fall and grab my triple band of reddish-brown rocks and tie the choker around my neck. I look at the long braided string necklace with the golden ball at the bottom. Mom always said it reminded her of a golden disco ball. I place that around my neck and with a few strokes of the brush look into the mirror.

I am my mother's replica. Frightening, but true. If she could see me now, she'd probably freak out. Hey, I still freak out, and I look in the mirror everyday. Shake it off, shake it off. I breathe in loudly and throw on my fake wooden pumps.


"Coming Daddy!" I run downstairs hoping not to fall. Yea, try not to smirk with that picture of me falling flat on my face with my legs in odd positions from trying to run in pumps ok? I finally catch myself at the bottom of the stairwell just as Sean and Daddy look up at me.

"My God... you look just like your mother." Great, I already took a shower, can we spare the water works?

"Thank you."

"Seriously M.D, you look fab." And still I wonder, do boys over the age of 20 ever speak in full sentences?

"I appreciate that Sean really, but I'm still not giving you my fifty bucks." I smile and head to the McDonald's bag to grab some eggs and sausage from the Big Breakfast.

"Why now, after all this time?" I look over at Daddy and see that this conversation couldn't have been avoided.

"Just cause. I think it was time." Yea, like two and a half years isn't enough. I guess moving across country is. Leaving New York won't be easy, especially because everything that has ever reminded me of Mom is here. Our walks in Central Park, skating in Rockafeller Center, karoake at BBQ's, walking and window shopping by 5th Avenue. But I can't explain that. No one understands how this change is going to affect me. No one. Not my stinky little brother Steven, who is glad he's moving. Something about maybe meeting some real aliens. Not my cousin Sean, who swears a clean record in a new state will do him good. And definitely not Dad, who wants to move away from the city, from the hectic life, from Mom and her cancer, from what we were all about. So I go and don't complain. In fact, I don't say a thing to anyone about how I feel, because being the only female in my household, it's something hard to communicate with the males of the lesser species. Now here we go... off to Roswell, New Mexico, and I, Maria DeLuca have to act like everything is fine. Well, guess they don't know me all that well now... do they?