But the limo was nice, too. Goodbye, Volkswagen Jetta. Hello, sleek, shiny, and running limousine. Finally, a car that didn’t suck.

“Your car sucks!” “And so do you.”

Another good thing about her father: in Europe, there was no Michael. She would be so far away, it would be like being on a whole different planet.

She hummed softly to herself as the limo pulled up to the school.

***

“Lizzy! Alex, where’s your better half?” She ruffled his hair before enveloping them both in a power hug.

“Whoa, air,” Liz gasped for breath.

Maria grinned sheepishly, “Sorry, just happy to see you.”

“Oh, no,” Alex returned. “That’s not a happy to see you look. That is the same look from...,”Alex grimaced, struggled with the memory, then snapped his fingers in triumph. “First time you beat the crap out of Kyle!”

“Yeh, I did sort of mop up, huh?”

“Last time he ever tried to take my dodgeball.” Alex fluttered hit eyelashes outrageously, “My hero.”

Maria sniffed back some tears, “God, I’m gonna miss you. You are the best things in this one-horse town.”

Liz put an arm around her best friend, “It’s okay, Maria, we understand. You have to go, who else is going to feed me and Alex’s need for cheesy souvenirs.”

“She’s right. I’m talking collectible silver spoons and stuffed animals. Actually, what I really want is some lederhosen.” Alex did a little jig in front of his locker.

Maria smiled, “So, Liz, I take it you want a dirndl?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s me. A little Alpine milkmaid,” Liz fluttered her eyelashes in a much more attractive way than Alex had.

“Hey, what about me?” Max said as he and Isabel joined the group.

“For you, I’m thinking a beret.”

Alex wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, “Zee French, zey are zee best luhv-erz! Eh, mon cheri, Liz?”

Max and Liz blushed; Isabel threw her head back in laughter. The Ice Princess, Maria reflected, would never have done that. Alex had softened her defenses, let Isabel find herself secure in his unconditional love.

She would miss her Czechoslovakian friends, she admitted. It was like they fit perfectly into the little group Alex and Liz had formed in elementary school. Max and Is, anyhow.

Maybe the reason Michael didn’t was herself. She wasn’t like Alex or Liz, one to comfort or smooth things over despite rejection. Maria, even with two parents, had her own defenses.

The warning bell rang out, disturbing the path of her musings.

“So, uh, I’ll see you guys at lunch?”

“You’re not coming to geometry?” Is arched a perfect brow.

“I leave in four days, yeh, I’m going to waste my time in that pit of despair?” Maria arched her own (no less perfect) brow. “Besides, I’ve got to do some paperwork. Return this book from the library,” she flashed the cover of Grapes of Wrath at them.

“Steinbeck,” Max frowned. “Wasn’t that assigned when we were freshman?”

Maria tucked the book back in her messenger bag, “Yeh, I sort of never returned it. Truthfully, I didn’t find it until last night when I reclaimed my room.”

“Reclaimed?” Max inquired.

“You know, like from the wilderness,” Liz laughed brightly. She looked down at her watch, “Oh, guys, we have to go. Unlike Ms. European Vacation over there, we have class.”

“Go ahead, I’ll check you all later,” Maria agreed as she turned towards the library. Though the halls were empty, she walked close to the walls, running her fingers lightly along the cool plaster. Four more days, Friday never seemed more far away. Finally, she had found something better for her than Roswell.

Substitute a spaceship for a limo, and you know what I mean.

Maria faltered, nearly colliding with the library entrance as the memory flashed before steeling herself. I don’t need this. I’ve got a father and a mother and -and Michael would do just fine on his own. He had Isabel and Max and his powers and his godamned stone wall. ***

The difference that marked the library from the rest of Roswell High (besides the books and emptiness and the accompanying quiet) was the light. The wall that joined it to the building was common plaster, but the two springing from it were glass connected by a panel of stained glass that looked like it belonged in a cathedral.

Shards of pale buttery gold, prismatic bone, and diaphanous windowpane swept through each other in a random, wild pattern. Maria saw herself moving through the beams, becoming a part of it. She could hear the soft, insistent pulse of rhythm -she could put words to that music; it would be like the sea slapping against sand. So very wild and akin to herself.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” A voice interrupted.

She turned around, unconsciously clutching her bag.

The bearer of the voice held out a hand, “Hi. I’m Ms. Clarke, the librarian.”

Maria shook it with as much grace as she could muster with her eyes once again planted on the stained glass. “It’s gorgeous. I never knew...”

“But you know now,” Ms. Clarke said gently. “It’s enough.”

With those words, Maria firmly remembered where she was. Pulling the book out of her bag, she said abashedly, “I’m returning a book. I have fines. Big fines.”

Amazingly, the librarian laughed. “Ah, a lamb returns to the fold. Thank you.”

That was it. No nagging or muttering about the uselessness of teenagers. Maria smiled as the woman punched the computer keys rapidly, “What do I owe you?”

“Thirty-five even.” Ms. Clarke put the book on the nearby shelving cart.

“Wow, is that, like, a record? Do I get a ribbon?”

The woman laughed, “Not by a long shot, I’ve still got an APB from a book checked out in ’79,” she looked at the screen and cleared it, “Maria DeLuca. Maria. I know that name from somewhere.”

“It’s a fairly common name.”

“No, I don’t think that’s it.” Ms. Clarke’s face clouded over briefly, “That’s okay. I’ll remember eventually. Now, what else can I do for you?”

“Well, I’ve got these checkout-papers I need to clear. I guess I can get them done now,” Maria pulled the multi-colored sheets out of her bag.

The librarian grimaced good-naturedly, “Where’s my young helper when I need him? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind having this stack shoved on him since you’re so lovely -Maria DeLuca! You’re Michael’s Maria!” The woman’s smiled widened.

“Oh, I don’t have a boyfriend.” A beat, “Michael Guerin?”

“Yes, he’s my library aide. He’s a gem!” Ms. Clarke gushed while inconspicuously inspecting the small blonde. Michael was a very special young man, after all. While she had had no doubt of Michael's good taste, this girl who had completely enchanted him interested her. “And so talented. Do you see that?”

The librarian pointed to a forty by thirty painting of orchids curling around a trailer. The trailer was dirty and old but surrounded by the flowers as it was...sort of like what Liz said, but opposite: wilderness reclaiming. The painting shocked her -power without fanfare and something rooted...admittedly, the motif was rehashed and old-school, but the work remained unpretentious. It was generous in color, acrobatic in scope, so undiluted...

God, Maria thought, to be that beautiful.

Finally, outloud, she said, “Michael did that.” To herself, she thought, this is one of the reasons I love him. In front of a painting like this, she would not lie.

Turning away from the painting and its implications, she said, “This place is something else. It’s just gorgeous. I wish I’d known-,”

Ms. Clarke put a kind hand to the girl’s cheek, “It’s okay. If I may ask, where are you going?”

“London,” she answered distractedly, “Then Italy and Spain, some other countries.”

“There’s beauty there, too,” Ms. Clarke said.

Hard to believe there was any left for the rest of the world after this room had taken it’s lion’s share.

“Oh,” Maria wasn’t sure what else to say. “Could you tell Michael I said, hello then?” It seemed unfair to visit this place which belonged to Michael without his awareness.

“Why don’t you go say hi to him yourself. I think he’s sleeping in the stacks back there.” Ms. Clarke smiled, “Just give him a little shove, okay?”

Maria smiled back, not able to remember she’d felt this comfortable with an adult. Not since Grandma Claudia...

The light sound of snoring could be heard from around the corner in Reference. Running her hands against the book spines, she slowed. What would she say? Sorry, I intruded on your private sanctuary and haven’t acknowledged your presence in a two weeks, by the way, have I told you I’m leaving the country?

She was pretty sure he already knew she was going, what with Is and Max, but he’d never said anything. Not that she would have stuck around to listen, she walked away when he was within speaking distance because it was so so hard not to touch him when he was near.

In the days when he touched her like it was necessary and not just about groping, she had thought that, maybe, there was something to be cherished between them. The way they moved together was too searing to be anything less.

She sighed and decided to leave. Better, this way she would not have to remember craving for and never receiving a heartfelt goodbye, some confessional spar of feeling.

She wanted him to miss her. To say so.

Maria saw herself :

Above a crystal bier crowned with honeysuckle and pink delphinium, Michael laid quietly. She reverently caressed his cold cheek and leaned into him, careful of the flowers.

When she kissed him, manna fell from the sky onto grass.

A castle appeared and a black jagged tower, which fell. The castle spired into the sky, gleaming like a pearl.

They stood together on the water, which sang to them. He pulled her in and whispered, “You came.”

***

“Maria?” Michael shook himself, he’d awakened to find her staring dumbly at the stained glass wall behind him, one hand placed on a bookshelf holding her upright.

“Oh, I just stopped in to return a book and the lady up front told me you were here so I wanted to say hi,” she responded quickly. “But I can see that you’re sleeping, so I’m gonna go. Okay?”

“Sure,” her appearance in the library evoked somewhat a different reaction than Max’s.

“Hey, I just wanted to tell you, I hope you have a good trip.”

So he knew.

He went on, “I’m just glad one of us got out.”

She hid her face from his smile, he was glad. “Thanks, I’ll send you a postcard or something, okay.”

She fled, taking only a moment to say goodbye to the librarian.

“Uh, I have to go get some more paperwork cleared but thanks, you know, for showing me the library.”

Ms. Clarke looked up from her computer and cup of cafe au lait. “No problem, do you want a mug before you go.”

Maria looked closer, it was suspiciously pink as if something red had been added...

She shook her head, twisted Snow White daydreams and suspecting the librarian of being Czechoslovakian? She had to get out of this town.

Later, sighing before a mirror with the benefit of bathroom lighting, she splashed water on her face. He was glad she was leaving.

***

“Max! Stop being such a hog!” Isabel snorted ungracefully and grabbed the bottle of Tabasco from her brother. He snatched it back and bopped her on the shoulder before she could uncap it. War declared, the two began to tug on the sauce bottle.

Maria, Liz, and Alex watched in complete amusement as the siblings battled.

“You know,” Alex began conversationally, “I’ve always wondered why you don’t you just use ketchup like normal people-”

“Normal humans,” Isabel interrupted despite her attack on Max.

“Let me finish. And then use your almighty molecular powers to change it into Tabasco. Less unsightly bottles that way. And much cheaper. Not to mention, inconspicuous.”

Alex caught the bottle as both Evans’ loosened their grip on it. They looked at each other in amazed silence as Alex’s idea soaked into their brains once again setting Liz and Maria into laughter.

Alex patted Max on the shoulder and said comfortingly, "You will learn, young grasshopper, one day you will be as wise as me. One day, grasshopper."

Liz gave her best friend a sidelong glance, noticing the marks of hard scrubbing on her fair skin. She nudged her softly and mouthed, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she replied a smile on her face. “Just mentally packing, you know.”

Liz hugged Maria, not believing her.

***

Above a crystal bier crowned with apples and rampion, Michael laid quietly. She reverently brushed his lips with her fingers, tracing the length his smile would take and leaned into him carefully.

When she kissed him, salt fell from the sky onto grass and gathered on his still form.

White as bone, it encased him like a moth in cocoon.

A black tower appeared and a spiring pearl castle, which fell. The tower plunged cloudward into the starless sky.

She stood alone in the water, which was clogged with salt. She clawed at the cocoon refusing to acknowledge thehis contented smile traced through stiff salt.

After the friction of her hands and the cocoon had grated her flesh she noticed the salt mixing with the blood, stinging. Her body shaking violently, drops of it fell, slowly, into the still waters. Then the faces appeared beneath the sheen of water, howling:

You took you took you took