"It's no big deal, mom - it was an accident," Max attempted to brush off the incident and Isabel just shot him a look as did Michael from the other side of the room. Mrs. Evans looked worriedly to her husband, seeming conflicted whether to believe Max or what her eyes had seen on the court.

"Are you sure, honey? It looked..." Mrs. Evans hesitated, "I mean can you think of any reason why he would do that to you?"

"No - 'cos he didn't mean to, mom," Max assured again and he avoided the stare he knew Isabel and Michael were giving him. He was lying to himself as much as he was lying to his parents. He wanted to believe Kyle hadn't meant it. Mr. Evans patted his son on the shoulder.

"Okay, okay Diane," he stepped in and looked to his wife then back to Max, "let's believe him, Max wouldn't lie." Max looked thankfully to his father. He couldn't lie to his mother any longer and he knew Isabelle was disturbed hearing the lies come from his mouth. "You played a good game, you should go get some rest," Phillip nodded his head. "And Michael, you better be getting home," he looked towards his son's best friend and then to the clock on the wall.

"Yeah," Michael began heading towards the door and Max knew that Michael would most likely end up sleeping on his bedroom floor. Max and Isabel walked to the front step with Michael and no sooner had he shut the door than Isabelle attacked. Max knew it was coming.

"How do you just stand there and lie to them??" she fumed and Max looked down at the ground ashamed. Michael made his way down the steps and Max ignored Isabel's comment and turned to him.

"Michael where are you going?" he looked confusedly towards hs friend, "You wait like ten minutes, my parents'll be asleep and you can -"

"Nah, I'm gonna go pay Kyle a little visit," Michael dismissed casually as he began to walk to the street.

"Michael, don't even think about it," Max grabbed his arm and turned him around. "Don't you get involved in it too," he said protectively and Michael knew what he meant. Don't get mixed up with the Kyle/Liz/Max thing. Don't raise suspicions. Michael couldn't help it. Max had already raised suspicions and he wasn't about to let Max just get knocked around. He already put up with enough of that for the two of them.

"Max, look at your face," Michael yelled angrily, pointing with his hand to Max's eye and Max licked his lips.

"You're not going to Kyle's," Max announced and before Michael could protest Isabel did.

"No, you should," she looked towards her brother and he tilted his head back frustratedly.

"What about...the whole Liz thing?" Max brought up the one question he thought could bring Michael's attention away from his revenge scenario.

"What does that have to do with it?" Michael fumed, "I'm not talkin' about your love life I'm talkin' about -"

"Kyle could start getting suspicious and he's the sherriff's son, Michael," Max said slowly.

"That's got nothin' to do with it. Look you kicked Kyle's ass once, you can do it again."

"That's the whole reason why I'm not going to, look -"

"You don't then I will," Michael stated simply. "You're not changin' my mind, Maxwell - he's not getting away with that."

"The whole team is gonna get on his back, Michael you don't have to -"

"Yeah I do, Max," Michael stared intently at his friend. " 'cos I'm not the team. This is me. And he's gotta know he's not gettin' away with that." Michael began to walk away and Max grabbed his arm one last time.

"Michael," he objected but Michael spun away.

"I'm goin'," he held his arms out and walked away. And Max didn't chase after him.

Kyle jogged quickly up the front steps to his house, fumbling for his keys in the darkness. It had been a lonely night. After the game he'd simply walked around the streets of Roswell alone. He looked behind him quickly. He had had the eerie feeling that he was being followed, that someone was watching him. He glanced back out to the street then back down to the mess of keys jingling in his hands.

"God, I'm like deranged.." he laughed to himself in an attempt to soothe his racing nerves. There was still that nervous air about him and he just combed his fingers through his hair and let out a deep breath. He looked behind him quickly as he jammed the keys into the door when suddenly a shadow emerged from the side of the house.

"Hey Kyle," sounded the voice and Kyle jumped back quickly at the voice, tripping over his own feet and falling to the ground on his back. Stumbling back to his feet he saw that the shadow was Michael Guerin. The shady, rebellious, class cutting friend of Max's. Because Michael was such an infrequent attendant of West Roswell High, he hardly ever saw Michael. The only times he did see him were in the Crashdown with Max. And then he stared eerily at Kyle out of the corner of his eye.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Kyle asked, pretending not to be frightened. Michael didn't respond, he slowly circled Kyle. Kyle's mind couldn't help but think back to that show in the Discovery Channel he'd seen, where he'd seen the wolves circle their prey before they savagely attacked it.

"Good game tonight," Michael nodded his head and Kyle knew that he wasn't referring to his measly six points and four rebounds.

"I didn't mean to..." Kyle quickly confessed "it - it was an accident, man," he faltered and Michael continued circling.

"It was a mistake is what it was," he continued speaking calmly and Kyle just stood there rooted to the spot. "Right?"

"Yeah, it - it was a harmless mistake," Kyle stumbled hoping it would get rid of Michael from his doorstep.

"Harmless?" Michael stared at Kyle, "take a look at Max's face - I wouldn't call it harmless."

"It was an accident alright," Kyle began to raise his voice and it only made Michael more irate.

"He won you the game!" Michael screamed, "he made your season, he gave you that championship - and you hit him!"

"It was an accident," Kyle repeated yet again and the more he said it the more he began to believe it.

"I don't particularly like him and Liz together either," Michael finally said and Kyle looked taken aback by the statement. "I'm not about to go beat him up though."

"I didn't mean to," Kyle's voice waivered as he began to fear maybe Michael was about to hit him.

"You mentioned that," Michael nodded his head, stepping closer towards Kyle.

"Look man, my dad's comin' home any minute you better get the hell outta-" Kyle mumbled quickly and Michael actually laughed.

"Your father the sheriff? What'd he think about that uh - that cheap shot? That seemed real legal." Headlights appeared in the distance and Michael began to back off.

"Get the hell outta here!" Kyle called more confidently now that he saw his father's car drawing closer and closer and Michael just looked back to Kyle with a look that he didn't have to supply with words. *I'll be watching you*

West Roswell was crazy the day after the game. It had been a close, dramatic game. The score had drifted back and forth between West Roswell and Hagerman throughout the game but in the fourth quarter the Comets - or Max really - pulled away.