Liz fought with herself as she sat in Sociology, but she still watched him. She watched him watching HER. Those eyes, locked on Tess as she smiled shyly back at him.

As always, Liz felt as though she had been kicked in the stomach.

Why did she have to watch them? Why couldnąt she just move on?

Then Tess noticed Liz watching her and her smile faltered.

Max turned to see what Tess was looking at and his eyes locked on Liz.

She didnąt turn away. She knew exactly what would happen.

She watched with a detatched air as a shock of recognition crossed his face, followed by a quick flash of guilt, then a cutting off of emotions completely.

Liz could read him too well.

He still loved her, but he just couldn't help himself around Tess.

And Liz had to admit, in spite of all appearances, it was killing her...very slowly.

******

Liz sat down wearily in her lawn chair. Usually, the nightly ritual of lighting the candles relaxed her, but tonight, the air was too full of memories. Today had been an especially hard day, following a very hard two weeks since Tess had come.

At lunchtime, Max and Tess had sat together for the first time. Then, Isabel and Michael had wandered over to join them. Tess seemed fine to them.

But then why wouldn't they want Max to explore this connection with Tess?

And Liz couldnąt help but think that if Maxąs connection to Tess was anything like his connection to Liz...they would probably...probably...

Liz was finally too exhausted to be detached anymore.

The unshed tears made her stomach cramp, but she still only allowed a bitter few.

Maybe the physical connection she and Max had experienced really had been all about finding the orb. And now, he needed to connect with another girl to find out something different about his past.

And Tess, Liz wiped her cheeks and sniffed, Tess is as good a choice as any.

Maria was certain that Tess was an undercover FBI agent or something else sinister.

Liz laughed bitterly.

She reached for her journal. She wouldn't allow herself to bask in that fantasy. Tess seemed like a perfectly normal girl to her.

Yeah, a perfectly normal girl that made her head feel like it was going to explode...

Liz tried to clear her mind, looking forward to writing down the thoughts swirling in her mind. Maybe she'd be able to get a better hold on her emotions this way.

But when she opened her journal, she froze.

Her heart thudded in her chest. She couldnąt breathe.

Someone had found her journal...

In blazing red ink, the words, "Stay away," were scrawled on the page.

A chill ran through her.

The words...the words seemed to leave the page... floating up towards her, becoming a hazy cloud of red in front of her eyes.

Liz slammed the journal shut and tried to calm her breathing as the words faded.

Who, Liz thought in a panic, who came up here? Who knows where I hide my journal?

She looked around the rooftop, suddenly feeling very vulnerable and alone in the darkness.

She forced herself to move calmly as she stood and walked to her window. Panicky moves would make her feel worse.

As she bent down to enter the window, something reflecting in the pane of glass caught her attention. A shimmering figure, white with a circle of light surrounding it.

Her breath caught in her throat as she forced herself to turn around and look at it.

But it was gone.

She jerked her head back to look at the figure in the windowpane again, but there was no one...nothing... there.

A desperate smile crossed her face as she tried to laugh off the vision.

This thing with Max was really getting to her.

For a moment there, she could have sworn it was Tess.

******

Her logical mind back in focus the next morning, Liz went through her list of suspects as to who was her journal grafitti artist.

Her list was actually quite short- one name.

So, before school, Liz stood knocking on an apartment door.

After a few minutes, Michael opened his door with a sour look on his face.

"Liz," he blinked a few times. "What do you want?"

"I have to talk to you," she said.

Liz felt like a bug under a microscope as he looked at her probingly.

Finally he lifted his arm and, after a slight hesitation, she ducked under it and into his apartment.

He closed the door behind her and leaned back on it with his arms crossed.

Liz smiled slightly. That was Michael. No use pretending that they were comfortable around each other. They weren't.

"Michael, you haven't been up on my balcony again, have you," she hesitantly began.

Michael furrowed his brow. "No. What's this about?" He pushed off the wall and came towards her.

Liz looked up at him. "And you haven't- haven't read my journal again, have you?"

"Of course not, Liz," he smirked. "Max tells me way more than I want to know about you."

Liz just stared at him.

Michael looked away for a second.

"I mean, he used to."

Liz smiled ruefully.

Michael looked even more uncomfortable as he paced to the kitchen. "Sorry about how things turned out."

Why did it hurt even more to know that everyone else felt sorry for her?

"Yeah, thanks."

She began to walk out, but he grabbed her arm.

"Liz, what's going on," he looked at her suspiciously.

Liz pulled her arm out of his grasp. "It's nothing."

Michael looked at her through narrowed eyes.

"It's nothing," she reiterated firmly.

Nothing she could explain, anyway.