Liz hardly stayed out as late as she had with Max that night and as she sat up on her balcony, scribbling in her journal she realized she'd been out with him all night. Usually when she went out with Kyle they went to a movie to the Crash and then straight home. But with Max she had just connected. She talked and laughed with him like she had known him her entire life. They hadn't gone anywhere or done anything, nothing to remain secretive about. They'd walked around the streets of Roswell for three hours. They walked around the same blocks over and over until suddenly they realized there was no one else on the street but them. And he hadn't done anything, he hadn't tried to. Only the stare that Liz had grown so accustomed to seeing from afar she now saw head on. And she found it hard not to stare back. She looked down at her journal entry, tempted to write more but somehow not able to put any of the things that she felt into words. Putting her pen on the table beside her, she closed her journal, blew out the candles surrounding her and walked into her room.

Dear Journal,

It's September 23, I'm Liz Parker and I'm wondering just one thing and one thing only. Where has Max Evans been all my life?

Max went to the Crashdown Cafe only one time over the weekend. Saturday Night he, Michael and Isabelle had been sitting at their booth, they'd been interrogating Max over where he'd gone Friday night. He was in the midst of dismissing their fears, telling them he'd only been at the Crashdown, when Liz stepped up to the table.

"Can I get you guys anything?" she asked smiling and Max looked away. He couldn't look at her, one look and Michael and Isabelle would know. They'd know where he'd been, what he'd done. His head began to spin. What if last night had been a mistake? All of it just one big mistake.

"Max!" Isabelle called loudly to him from across the table, "earth to Max. Yougonna order or not?" He turned his head slowly up to Liz. God, she's beautiful he couldn't help but think. It hadn't been a mistake, none of it.

"Space fries and a cherry coke," he mumbled, smiling only slightly. Liz smiled back and began reading the order back to them to doublecheck it. Max looked across the room and noted at the table across from him Kyle Valenti and his friends. Kyle called Liz over, motioning with his hand and she seemed a bit reluctant to walk over to him. He pulled her onto his lap and they began talking and laughing. Max quickly turned his head. Both Michael and Isabelle looked over at him. Michael stood up and grabbed a bottle of tabasco from the neighboring table.

"Sherriff's son Maximillion. Don't get any ideas."

Liz didn't know how to act around Max in school now. She didn't know how to act around Kyle either. She and Max hadn't done anything, she continued to tell herself. We talked. That's all. There's nothing to be uncomfortable about. But she knew there was. She tried to tell herself no, and when she was with Kyle she just continued to lie to herself. But when she saw Max the feeling of that night crept back up on her. At first they'd talked about biology class, about Pam Troy and the people in the school that bothered them the most. They talked about small-town Roswell, why they liked it, why they didn't, the preponderancy of tourists in the town, how insane the summer was when they all came. Then he'd asked her if she actually believed in aliens. She shrugged her shoulders and had said it would be ignorant of her not to. He seemed to think about her response for a while. When she'd turned the question on him he'd grown quiet. That was when theconversation began to stem from cafeteria food and their high school principal.

She couldn't hide the way she felt about Max. He was so easy to talk to, so easy to trust. She'd told him things she hadn't told anyone else. And there was something in his eyes that believed she could trust him. Maybe it was the way he looked at her, like she was the only thing that mattered. She'd find herself getting lost in his eyes during Biology as she gazed at him instead of the slides on the screen. The week passed and she and Max had hardly spoken again. She had things to tell him, things she wanted to say. Things she couldn't confide to to anybody else. The bell rang signalling the end of biology and as Max packed up his books and began to head out the door she grabbed his arm and turned him around.

"Max..." she called his name almost urgently and he just looked at her hand holding onto his arm. She was touching him. "About last weekend..."

"Yeah," he mumbled, unsure of what she was going to say about it. He was ready to form an apology, ready to tell her he knew she was going out with Kyle and that nothing could happen.