He cleared his thoughts and tried not to think about it at all. Instead he watched Liz and Alex, raising his hands to clap along with the music and cheer them on. Alex was spinning Liz daringly; her total trust in him was clear. Max blinked, wincing a little as someone next to him snapped a flashbulb. He turned to glare at the guy. "Are you trying to blind somebody?" he asked, only half in jest.

The photographer lowered his camera and grinned, tipping his hat at Max. "Why, hello," the man said, offering his free hand to Max. Max stared at it. "I'm from Life Magazine. Could you tell me the names of your friends over there?"

Max hesitated. "Why?

"Well, I just took their picture. I'd like to know their names."

"Uh, that's Alex Whitman and Liz Parker," he said.

"And what's your name?"

"Max Evans."

"Thank you," the photographer purred. He wrote them quickly on a slip of paper and slid them into his pocket. Whether or not the photographer was aware of how famous his picture would become, Max was never sure.

Max headed over to his two friends. "Did you see that guy?"

"What guy?" asked Alex.

"He just took a picture of you two. You didn't notice?"

"Sorry," Liz said, her face flushed. "I guess we were busy."

"I'd like to get busy," Alex leered teasingly. The hand that had been resting on her waist began to move higher.

Liz laughed and slapped his hand away. "Don't, Alex. Do you want to get me in even more trouble? You know my parents don't approve of this place."

Alex and Max looked around at the dance hall. The rafters bracing the ceiling were hung with streamers and balloons. The band stood on a rickety stage that could have fallen over at any second. Women with their short skirts flying and men in uniform danced to the live swing music. Alex watched with amusement as one woman's skirt flew a little too high and revealed her panties. "I can't imagine why," he drawled.

"They don't approve of you either, Alex," she said.

"They used to like me," he protested.

"That was before we started dating. When we were just kids, they didn't care."

Alex grabbed his girlfriend and spun her around, then kissed her deeply. "We aren't kids anymore," he whispered, though it was loud enough for Max to hear. He blushed a little, feeling embarrassed, and headed back toward the bowl of spiked punch that all the other recruits seemed to be enjoying so much.

"Hey, Max, why aren't you dancing?"

Max looked up to see Tess Harding, his on-again, off-again girlfriend. They were currently off, but neither of them had been dating anyone else. Max couldn't bring himself to make a commitment like Alex and Liz, not when they were going over there.

Tess was a good-looking girl, almost as good-looking as Max. She was petite with curly blond hair, big green eyes and large breasts that had made her the object of fantasy for half the boys at their school. Max had to admit that those attributes were what had attracted him, too. He hated to admit it to himself, but Tess really didn't have much of a personality. She was, as the ever-intelligent class clown, Mort Wilmer, put it, "Sex on a Stick." The nickname had stuck.

"I don't know," Max said. "Guess I'm just not into it tonight."

Tess smiled. "Well, come on, Max. Get up. This is your last night at home." She put out her hand and Max took it reluctantly. She pulled him over next to Alex and Liz.

"Hi, Sex--I mean, hi, Tess," Alex said with a devilish grin. Max glared at him. Liz smiled a little, looking at Tess.

As well endowed as Tess might be, Max was aware that there was simply no competition between her and Max's childhood friend. Liz had everything Tess didn't--a fantastic personality, a throaty laugh, and of course she was unbelievably gorgeous. The boys at their school, always jealous, wondered what on earth she saw in Alex.

Max knew. The three of them had been friends since third grade. Max had come to West Roswell Elementary scared and alone, newly adopted. He saw eight-year-old Alex pushing Liz on a swing in the playground. He had been drawn toward them, shy as he was, and he knew he was welcome when he saw Liz look up and give him a bright smile. But in a sense the group had always been Liz and Alex...with Max on the side. Alex was friendly, warm, and loyal despite his professed womanizing ways. Max was quite certain Liz had been in love with Alex before he met them. It was a kind of absolute devotion, and Max knew that Alex felt it too.

He was happy for his friends. He knew they were the kind of couple that would last forever. And at the same time, he was jealous. Would he ever feel that kind of love?

He looked at Tess and sighed inwardly. Well, at least he could enjoy his youth while he still had it.

****

The next morning, Max woke up with a start. He could see a little light coming in through the windows. He panicked briefly, thinking his alarm clock had not gone off and that he had missed the bus to basic training. He sat up, throwing a wild glance backwards at his clock.

It went off just as he looked at it, the loud ringing making him jump into the air. He turned it off, cursing quietly. He didn't want to wake his mother and father. They had already said their goodbyes last night, when he returned home from Tess's house. He didn't want to say them again.

He got dressed as silently as possible, taking a last glance at his thick brown hair in the mirror, knowing it would soon be shaved close to his scalp. He grabbed his bag, packed two days before, and snuck out the front door.

It was only a mile's walk to the bus stop, and Alex's house was on the way. He didn't bother to knock on the door, instead just walking in.

Alex's mother was in the living room. She gave him a watery smile. "Hi, Max," she said.

"Hi, Mrs. Whitman. Do you know where Alex is?"

"He's still in his room," Mrs. Whitman said with a sniffle. "He's never been a morning person, you know."

Especially not this morning, Max thought to himself, but he didn't voice his suspicions about how Alex had spent his last night at home to Mrs. Whitman. There were things that parents just didn't need to know.

He heard two voices coming from Alex's room as he walked up the narrow staircase. He smiled a little as a high-pitched, yet still pleasant voice that definitely did not belong to Alex confirmed his suspicions. He knocked on Alex's door, hoping not to intrude.

"Who is it?" Alex asked.

"It's Max," he said. "It's time for us to go, buddy."

There was a pause. "Come in."

Max opened the door slowly. Alex was up and throwing his belongings into a suitcase. He apparently had not had the foresight to pack in advance. And sure enough, Liz lay back on the bed, looking thoroughly ruffled. Max shut the door tightly behind him.

"You ready?" he asked Alex, not quite sure what to say.

"Almost," Alex said grimly.

Liz rose from the bed. She didn't seem to be wearing much, and she wrapped Alex's sheet around her as she got up. She walked over to him and whispered, "I want you to bring him back to me."

"I will," Max said. "I promise."

Liz wrapped her arms around him and Max hugged her back, breathing in his friend's warmth and scent. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the forehead, and then on both cheeks. Max relished the feel of her warm, soft, slightly swollen lips on his skin. "You come back too," she said. "You have to take care of him. Please? For me?"

"Of course," Max said, a little surprised, but not wanting to let her go. He looked up and saw Alex zipping up his suitcase.

"I'll see you," Liz whispered, and kissed him quickly on the lips. Max felt a little dazed, both from her words and her actions, and as she pulled away he noticed the tiny gold ring around her finger.

He left the room, closing the door behind him again. He knew that the lovers needed a few more moments to themselves. He put his fingers to his lips, feeling them burn where Liz had touched.

The door next to him opened and Alex came out, looking a little sheepish. "Ready?" he asked, repeating Max's question.