Sometimes, when people have been friends for a really long time, they don't
need to communicate with words. This was especially true of Max and Michael,
because of their alien nature. They just seemed to feel things more deeply
than normal people. They understood much more than they were ready to
understand. About love. About life. And about friendship.

But they still liked to talk. It made them feel like normal people, which
was something both of them wanted to feel like more than anything.
Especially Max, because of Liz.

Michael often tried to hide his thoughts, but of course he couldn't hide
anything from Max for very long. Max just knew. He knew everything.
Everything that was important anyway. Max and his sister Isabel both knew.
How could he hope to let anybody else into their intimate world? Why would
he want to? Max and Isabel had been everything for so long... He didn't even
think he needed anybody else. Maybe romantic, idealistic Max needed Liz, but
he wasn't Max...

Even so, he hadn't been able to conceal his growing attraction to Maria
DeLuca from his best friend. Max had known almost immediately. And Michael
didn't like it.

"I mean, Max, Liz is just a girl, right?" Michael was trying his best to
sound flippant.

Max sat up and looked at Michael intensely, as if he had committed a
sacrilege or a blasphemy of some sort, but he didn't answer.

Michael pretended to ignore him, still on his back. "Hey, the North Star's
coming out."

Max lay back down and sighed. A few minutes of silence went by as more and
more stars appeared on the quickly darkening horizon.

"She's not just a girl," Max said softly to the sky, finally breaking the
quiet. "Is Maria just a girl?" he asked with a subtle smile as he turned to
look at Michael.

"Yeah," Michael said a touch irritably, trying to look tough. "That's all
she is. Just a girl!" He looked defiantly at Max. "Why did you hafta bring
her up so soon after we ate anyway?"

Max had to look away for a moment so Michael wouldn't see his barely stifled
laugh. "Michael, it's okay. This is me. Tell me the truth. Please."

"I have told you the truth hundreds of times! We are not here to mingle with
the natives. We are here because we were stranded. Because they killed off
everybody that was important to us. And they scared off everybody who
could've helped us. And you know what else? They'd do the same thing to us
in a second! They took everything that we need to find to get home and hid
it in some secret file, or burned it, or otherwise destroyed it."

"Why are you avoiding this?" Max patiently asked his friend.

"Avoiding what?" Michael returned sullenly.

"I think you know the answer to that."

Michael sighed as he turned to look at Max, but still tried to deny it.
"No."

"No, you don't know the answer, or no, you're not going to tell me the
truth?"

"Whichever one you think it is. Neither one of them interests me!" Michael
stubbornly turned his face back up to the sky.

Max sat up, pulling Michael along with him. "Look me in the eyes and tell me
you don't have feelings for Maria," Max commanded.

Michael flinched, looking defeated. "I... can't."

"Then don't tell me she's just a girl," Max returned knowingly, smiling at
him.

"You just don't understand, Max," Michael answered, heaving another
weight-of-the-world sigh.

***

Max got home late, but even so, Isabel was waiting up for him. Dressed in
plaid flannel pajamas and a pair of bunny slippers, his sister didn't look
quite so intimidating as she did in school. But Max knew Isabel much better
than the average brother knew his sister. The untouchable goddess act was
just that, an act.

"So, where did you and Michael drive off to tonight?" Isabel wanted to know.
She was squeezing her favorite teddy bear tightly in vicarious anticipation.

Isabel could have just been playing the part of the nosy sister, at which
point, if he was a normal teenage boy, he could have justifiably kicked her
out of his room. But instead, he sat down next to her on his bed and told
her everything.

When he finished, Isabel looked sad. "Isabel? Is everything okay?" Max asked
her, looking concerned.

"I just feel sort of left out," Isabel admitted.

"What do you mean, Is? I just told you everything. I *always* tell you
everything."

"But that's just it. You tell me. I don't ever get to live it myself."

"Is this your sisterly way of saying you want to be just like your brother?"
Max teased.

Isabel ignored him. Sometimes, surprisingly, he could be a real goofball.
Liz Parker would no doubt be shocked that the loyal little puppy dog she had
made Max into could also be one certified pain-in-the-butt of a brother.

"You have Michael to talk to about 'guy' stuff. And you have Liz, too," she
said wistfully to him. "And now apparently Michael has this thing for Maria.
But what about me? Telling my teddy bear everything was pointless by the
time I turned 10."

"Is, you're not alone. You've got me and Michael."

"I know, but I just wish I had a girl who I could tell everything to. One
who would understand me. I think that if a single one of the girls at school
who are supposedly my friends came up to me and didn't say something that
sounded like it was ripped from a vintage script of 'Beverly Hills, 90210',
that would be the day I turn myself in to Valenti."

"It doesn't have to be like that though. You're putting it on yourself," Max
told her gently.

"I just want to be normal, be popular, fit in," Isabel complained.

"Is, you have so much to offer... You shouldn't limit yourself like this,"
Max said reassuringly. "I know it's not fair. But maybe if you tried being
nicer to people. Let them see the caring girl I know exists under all that
hair and makeup and trendy clothes."

Isabel's eyes shone. "I'm... caring?" she asked softly.

"You know you are," Max affirmed. "And I know it too. Even Michael knows
it."

"What good is that? He'd never admit it," Isabel informed him dryly.

"Of course not, that would be too easy," Max replied, still feeling a little
annoyed with his best friend.

Isabel abruptly got up off the bed. She sensed that Max wanted some time to
himself. "Good night, Max."

She leaned down to give him a sisterly one-armed hug. The teddy bear she was
still holding was briefly smushed up between them.

"'Night, Is," Max answered with a smile as she shut the door behind her.

While he got ready for bed, Max wished that Isabel would take his advice and
try talking to people. He hated to think of his sister feeling lonely. Not
with so many people out there who cared about her.

***

"We need something to do," Michael complained from his spot in the back of
the Jeep. In truth, he was practically itching for any excuse to get out of
his first period gym class.

"We have something to do," Isabel shot back from the driver's seat. "We're
going to school."

"No! I mean, I want to find something else. To help us get back. These past
few days have just been too... normal." He pretended to shudder at the
thought.

"I think it's better like this," Max answered. "But, hey, bring those
drawings you did of James Atherton's place over to my house after school
today. I want to see something."

"We already went there and saw the real thing," Michael reminded him.

"I know that," Max said. "I just want to look at them again."

Michael shrugged. "Okay, I'll see if I can dig them up."

***

It had been another long, boring, and completely pointless day at school.
Michael burst out of school with an almost cheerful expression on his
scruffy yet handsome face. It was over! At least until tomorrow. (If this
had been a movie, ominous music would have suddenly filled the theater at
the mention of the dreaded tomorrow.)

He rounded one corner of the building, heading towards the parking lot. He
hoped Isabel and Max hadn't left without him. But they might have... He had
been held after school quite a bit lately. They probably thought it had
happened again. He cursed his luck. Why did his locker have to be located in
the polar opposite of the area where he had his last class today? And why
did he decide to actually attend class today of all days?

Lost in thought, his head was down, and he almost collided into someone.
"Hey, watch it!" Michael exclaimed.

Then he looked up into the big sparkling hazel eyes of... Maria DeLuca.
Surprise, surprise.

He couldn't control the leap his heart suddenly gave. Those eyes... They
were... Well, something poetic anyway.

"Hi," she said with a smitten look on her face. "I... I mean, you watch it!"
Nice save!

Michael rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the way his pulse was speeding up.
It was a challenge to keep the anger in his voice as he said, "Get out of my
way. I gotta get home."

"Isn't the pig farm that way?" Maria pointed to her left.

"I wouldn't know," Michael said insolently.

Maria put her hands on her hips accusingly. "And just what is that supposed
to mean?"

Michael just stared at her silently, so she went on. "Are you trying to say
I'm a pig? Because I'll have you know that, that P-I-G actually stands for,
um, Pretty Intelligent Girl." Maria ticked each word off on her fingertips.
"So hah!"

Michael looked amused for a moment, then his face darkened into his usual
impenetrable expression. "Look, I don't have time for this today. Or any
other day for that matter," he said, pushing past her and heading into the
parking lot.

But he already knew what he would see when he arrived. The Jeep was gone!
"Dammit!" he cursed aloud. Now he would have to walk.

"Ahem, language!" a female voice chirped in his ear.

He hesitatingly turned. Yup, it was her again. Maria DeLuca. "What are you
doing here?" he hissed.

"Going home," she said innocently, gesturing across the lot to her mom's red
Jetta. "So, Michael... Have fun walking home! Say hi to the sidewalk for
me!" Her voice rang gaily out as she strolled away.

Michael was so angry he expected steam to come pouring out his ears any
minute now. This Maria girl was really starting to get on his nerves. Who
did she think she was anyway? He was beginning to think that everything that
went wrong, no matter how insignificant or completely unrelated, was
entirely her fault!

He could sense her looking at him from inside of her car, even though his
back was to her. He turned, meaning to look menacingly at her, but he
must've been too slow because she was gone! The weird part was, he actually
felt a twinge of disappointment somewhere deep in his stomach. Then, from
beside him, he heard a honk.

He turned again. She was sitting in the car, the engine rumbling, smiling
out the window at him. "Come on... Tempting as it would've been to see you
beg for a ride, I decided to show a little compassion."

Michael didn't know what to say for a minute as a strange warm feeling
spread over him. But he got in the car. There, he found his voice. "Beg for
a ride?" he asked mockingly when he was settled in. "From you? Don't flatter
yourself." He snorted for emphasis.

"Hey, aren't you forgetting something?" she asked.

Michael looked blankly at her. "Your seatbelt, buddy. Buckle up. It's the
law!"

Instead of answering, he reached over and pressed the release button on her
own seatbelt buckle, causing the seatbelt to snap back. "Hey!" Maria yelled,
exasperated.

He just sat casually back in his seat and watched the show. She fumbled with
the buckle for a full minute before finally getting herself properly buckled
in. He smiled with satisfaction.

"On second thought, I wouldn't mind if you did crash through the
windshield," she finally said, shifting into drive.

Michael smirked. "Same to you," he said, reaching for her seatbelt buckle
again.

"Wait a minute! Michael!" Maria slammed on the brakes and nearly broke the
record for the fastest head turn. She glared at him with flashing eyes.

He quickly took his hand away, looking positively cherubic, and she felt
some of her anger melt away. But she could tell that this was still going to
be a very long and bumpy ride!

***

Maria looked out the window, feeling sorry for Michael. Following his
directions, she had ended up driving through a very poor section of town.
She had never even been here before. It seemed like all she could see for
miles around was trailers. Some had rusty bikes and plastic toys littered
out front. Rotting old cars with no tires sat on wooden blocks in some of
the driveways. Rotweilers and Dobermans barked and snarled from behind
chained fences, warning anybody who tried to get too close. There wasn't a
single flower garden. Hardly any trees. Many of the lawns featured brown,
stunted grass. Trash was scattered everywhere, as if nobody cared enough to
pick it up. Or maybe they just knew that it wouldn't make this place any
less ugly than it already was.

She finally understood what Dante meant when he said, "Abandon all hope, ye
who enter here." Because that's what this place was like. Completely without
hope.

She looked over at Michael, but he turned his face away to stare moodily out
the window. She wondered what he was thinking.

"It's coming up," he finally said. "That white one up there on the right."
He pointed.

She pulled into the driveway. It didn't look like anybody was home. The
trailer looked cold and uninviting. It probably still would have looked that
way even if somebody had been home.

"This is where you live?" Maria asked, feeling terrible. She knew he wasn't
well off, but she wasn't expecting this.

"Just wait out here, okay? I need to find something, and then we're going to
Max's house." Michael avoided her gaze just as he had avoided her question.
He didn't want her to see how much this place hurt him. How much it hurt him
to have her see it.

So Maria sat in the car, waiting for him. She tried not to think about
Michael too much, but she couldn't help it. It was so intriguing. How could
he stand to live in such a place? Was he loved here? Did anybody care for
him? It definitely explained his harsh outlook on life... In a way, she felt
closer to him. It seemed like everything she needed to know about him could
be found here in this rundown old trailer.

A stray cat wandered through the place that could not properly be called a
front yard. As it passed, a mangy looking and definitely crazed mongrel
chained up across the street started snarling and barking, which set off
every single other dog in the neighborhood. Maria sat up tightly in the car,
very afraid. That dog across the street looked like he could break free of
his chain at any second.

"I've read Cujo!" Maria exclaimed to herself. "I'm not sticking around to
live it!"

She jumped out of the car, sprinted up the driveway, and scurried quickly
inside of the trailer, slamming the door behind her and locking it. She
looked at the door for a moment, thinking, and then used the deadbolt too.

It was then she noticed her surroundings. Old, beaten-up furniture that
looked like it might have been salvaged from the dump just outside of town.
Pizza boxes, fast food containers, beer cans, and other assorted debris
littered the floor and every other available surface. And everything was
filthy dirty.

Then Michael came out and saw her there, goggling at everything. "I told you
to stay in the car!" he exclaimed, feeling embarrassed.

"I was scared, okay? It was Cujo!" Maria said in her usual dramatic way.

Michael stared at her for a moment. He didn't really understand that, but it
didn't matter. "Go back outside," he replied.

"You can't send me back out there!" Maria picked up a monkey wrench lying on
an end table and brandished it. "I mean it!"

Michael shook his head with a faint smile. She somehow reminded him of Ren
from Ren and Stimpy in that infamous scene with the toothbrush. (Now you've
done it! You... forced me to use it!)

"Suit yourself," he said at last, going back the way he had come. There
wasn't any time for arguing.

"Wait!" Maria picked her way through the living room and followed him. "What
are you looking for? Maybe I can help."

"Some drawings. Of James Atherton's place," Michael answered, opening the
door to what she assumed was his bedroom and going inside.

Maria hovered in the doorway, peeking in. She had never seen a guy's room
before. Well, except in the movies or on TV. That didn't really count
though. At least she didn't think so.

It was actually an unexpectedly nice room, though it was very small. He kept
it clean and neat. Posters of his favorite bands and prints of famous
paintings were mixed together on the walls. And there was a large map of the
constellations dominating the wall above his bed. She almost forgot the
chaos and squalor that permeated the rest of the trailer. In here, it felt
safe. Sane. Michael's room, and Michael himself, gave off the only light in
this dark, cold trailer.

Michael looked at her. She was still standing in the doorway. "You can come
in," he said in a slightly less gruff voice than the one he normally used
with her.

She slowly stepped inside, feeling tongue-tied and very awkward. He handed
her a box from under his bed. "Go through this one," he said.

She sat down on the floor next to him and began to search through the box.
It was like going through his life! It was almost an invasion of privacy.

She had only just begun the search when she let out a whoop of joy. "I found
them!" she exclaimed in excitement.

Michael stopped looking through his box immediately and slid over so he was
very close beside her and peered over her shoulder. He could faintly smell
her apple-scented hair. She was transfixed as she looked through the set of
drawings.

"These are beautiful," she told him. "Oh my God, Michael. You are so
talented! You could be the next Van Gogh or Rembrandt or somebody!"

Michael didn't say anything. She couldn't see it, but a shy smile was slowly
spreading across his face.

***

Michael spread the drawings out on Max's kitchen table. Isabel was standing
beside him with her arms crossed, looking bored.

Max looked down at the drawings for a long time. He paced around the table,
staring at each one in turn.

"Uh, Max? Would you mind sharing with us exactly what you're looking for?"
Isabel finally asked.

Max looked up, disappointed. "I thought there might be something else in
these. Some other clue... But I can't find anything."

"That ship has sailed, Maxwell," Michael answered, tongue firmly planted in
cheek.

***

Max, Isabel, and Michael walked into the Crashdown Cafe. There was only
about an hour till close, and the place was nearly deserted. Liz was on her
own out front, since Maria was in the storeroom helping her dad with the
inventory.

The alien trio sat down in their usual booth. Max strategically positioned
himself in the seat with its back to the window, just so he could have a
constant view of Liz. He thought Michael and Isabel would never figure out
why he always liked to sit there, but really he wasn't fooling either of
them.

Right now, she was at the register waiting for a customer to pay. He watched
her while she smiled and gave the customer back his change. How many times
had he seen her do that? It felt like thousands. But things were different
now. Because she actually knew he was alive. She knew what he thought about
her. And he thought maybe she liked it. Liked him.

He caught her eye as the customer was walking away, and she dazzled him with
a smile that he knew was meant only for him. He smiled shyly back, enjoying
their careful flirtations, and then looked down at the table.

Then she was there, up close, handing him a menu. She smiled at all of them,
but saved most of her smile for Max. "Hey guys," she said. "What do you want
to drink?"

It was weird, but Liz realized she could almost pinpoint their personalities
just by listening to the way they gave their drink orders.

"Diet Coke," Isabel answered decisively.

"Uhh, just water for me," Max said, ducking his head bashfully.

"Got any Scotch?" Michael asked with an impish grin.

"Hmm..." Liz pretended to think about this. "No, but we have Sprite... Sorta
looks like Scotch."

"Sold."

"All right, I'll be right back with your drinks, and then I'll take your
order." Liz finished scribbling on the pad and took off, after one final
longing backwards glance at Max.

***

The table was now littered with the remains of the dinner they had just
eaten. An empty Tabasco sauce bottle was lying on its side next to Isabel's
plate. And Michael let out a burp that sounded like a shotgun blast. Isabel
shook her head in disgust. By now they were the only customers in the
Crashdown, but even if the place had been crawling with people, Michael
probably still would've burped like that.

"We should go look again," Max said to Michael, referring to their UFO hunt
out in the desert. "Maybe we'll see something."

"Yeah," Michael agreed almost instantly. Anything to keep him out of that
trailer for a little while longer.

They looked expectantly at Isabel. She kept ducking out on them.

"No way," Isabel proclaimed. "There are some guys that I promised I'd call.
Of course, I'm not really going to call them. But just in case I actually
do..."

"All right, you don't have to come this time," Max finally said, shaking his
head a little.

"It's just been so cold lately. And you know how I hate the cold," Isabel
offered with a sweet smile. Well, it was a slightly less lame excuse than
her first one.

But Max was distracted by the sight of Liz wiping down the counter. Her long
dark hair was hanging down, partially covering her face. A shame, because
she was so beautiful. Max felt like he could watch her wipe counters for
hours. He could watch her sleep, or read, or do any number of mundane,
everyday things for the rest of his life, and he still wouldn't get bored.

She looked up then, her eyes briefly meeting his. And something indefinable
passed between them.

Max got up and walked towards her. Their eyes locked together, and stayed
that way. Michael, Isabel, the Crashdown Cafe, and everything else standing
between them just seemed to fall away. There was just Liz, standing there
and looking at him with a warm smile. He was vaguely aware that he was
smiling too. His whole body felt like it was smiling. There was no room for
anything else but smiling. And Liz. Beautiful Liz.

If anybody had come upon Liz at that moment, they would've said she was in a
trance. And that's what it felt like to her. Whenever Max looked at her like
that, she forgot about everything else. Only Max was important. She
considered how sweet he was, how noble. She remembered how he saved her life
and risked everything for her. He was smart, certifiably gorgeous, and
definitely shy. Beautiful... He seemed almost perfect.

As Max walked towards her, his heart was pounding. He wanted nothing else
than to just go over there, take her in his arms, and kiss her. But he knew
that he had to break the connection. Every time this happened, he had to
control himself. Even though he wanted her more than anything, it just
wasn't safe. He lowered his eyes, dissolving their bond.

"Can I have our check?" he finally asked, trying to sound calmer than he
felt.

"Oh... oh, sure," Liz said, still looking a little stunned.

She took the check out of her apron and handed it gently to him, making sure
that their hands touched. Any little excuse to touch him.

His fingers closed briefly over hers as he grasped the check. "Thanks," he
said, as he regretfully let go.

Liz looked into his beautiful, soulful eyes. She always had to remind
herself that they were the eyes of an alien, because she forgot when she
saw them. When she looked into his eyes, it made her think that maybe she
and Max weren't so different from each other after all, when you got right
down to it.

Then she walked over to the register, and Max followed after a brief glance
down at the check to see how much he owed her.

He paid for their meal all in ones, handing each one over individually.
(More opportunities for their hands to touch!) He could sense Michael
somewhere behind him. He was probably snickering as he watched his best
friend make an obvious fool out of himself, but Max didn't really care.
Because of the way Liz was looking at him tonight. And because of the way he
felt whenever their hands touched again.

He walked back towards the table, bracing himself for the teasing he was
sure to get. But instead, he was greeted with silence. Isabel was looking a
lot more thoughtful than she usually did. And Michael was looking down at
the table, his brow furrowed. Something was definitely on his mind.

Max was used to Michael's sudden mood swings, so he didn't think too much of
it. And he was extremely grateful that he had been spared the agony of
listening to Michael make fun of him.

"Let's go," he said to Michael.

"Yeah, okay," Michael answered, getting up and walking out.

Max looked expectantly at Isabel, who was still sitting in the booth. "You
coming, Is?" he asked.

"Oh..." His sister looked startled. "No. I'll just walk back home. It's not
too far."

Max looked at her strangely. "But I thought you hated the cold."

"I'll be all right," she replied impatiently.

"Okay," Max answered, sort of puzzled, but accepting it. "See you at home."

"Sure," Isabel muttered.

Max stole one more glance at Liz and then went outside to find Michael.

***

Michael finally broke the vow of silence he had apparently taken while they
were in the Jeep. He and Max were again sitting on the Jeep's hood, gazing
up at the stars and wondering if one of those far-off sparks of brightness
up there was really their home.

"I've been thinking..." Michael began.

"About what?" Max wanted to know, looking intently at his friend.

"About you and Liz. I saw how you were acting with her tonight. You're
thinking about it."

"Thinking about what?" Max asked, looking a little puzzled.

"I can sort of understand that you're in love with her, but you know it
can't go any further than that," Michael lectured.

Max raised an eyebrow. "I don't see it that way," he said. "And anyway, I
don't think that's really what you want to talk to me about." He smiled
softly.

"Huh?" Michael happily played the part of the clueless guy, hoping it would
throw Max off.

"You're really thinking about your relationship with Maria," Max informed
him. He was never thrown off.

"It's NOT a relationship!" Michael cried out in disgust.

"Well, whatever you want to call it," Max replied.

"I don't even care about her." Michael couldn't meet Max's eyes.

"If you say so." Max simply crossed his arms, waiting.

Michael looked at Max for a long time, sizing him up. He knew what Max was
doing. He wanted Michael to cut the tough guy crap and tell him how he
really felt. And he was right. Max was his best friend. He had to start
telling him the truth.

Michael sighed, giving in. "Okay, maybe that's bull," he admitted finally.
"Maybe I do... think about her."

Max merely looked at him with his strange knowing smile, prompting him to go
on. "But even if I do, it doesn't matter. She probably doesn't even like me
anyway. We're always fighting."

"I've noticed," Max said dryly.

"I just don't want to be involved... I don't want to hurt her. If we found
out how to get home and I had to leave her..." But Michael couldn't finish
that thought.

Max considered this carefully. "I haven't thought about that too much," he
finally answered, thinking of Liz.

"I don't want to hurt her," Michael repeated fiercely.

In the next few minutes that followed, Michael made a decision. He knew what
he had to do about Maria. It was the only thing to do. It would be better
for them both in the long run. No matter how painful it was. Better a small
hurt now than a giant hurt later on, when it was too late.

Meanwhile, Max was lying back under the stars, going over what Michael had
said. It was true. Yet another reason to add to the already mile-long list
of reasons not to get involved with Liz Parker. But he had a hunch that it
was too late. He *was* involved...

He had always known that he would have to return to his real planet
eventually, but he just sort of kept it hiding in the back of his mind. He
didn't want to deal with it. It was true that he never quite felt like he
fit in here, but Earth was his home, the only one he really remembered. The
only one he felt like he knew. He liked it here. And he loved a certain
human.

"Damn!" Michael cursed as he quickly sat up and looked around, near
panicked. "I just remembered!"

"What?" Max asked as he was quickly jolted back to reality.

"I left my drawings back at the Crashdown!"

"We gotta go back, then. If anybody finds them, there could be trouble," Max
said. He scrambled off the Jeep. Michael quickly followed suit.

***

While Michael and Max were driving out to the desert, Isabel was still
hanging out in the Crashdown Cafe. The music coming from the speakers
overhead seemed much louder now that Max and Michael were gone. It was
uncomfortably awkward sitting alone in the deserted cafe. But she was
determined.

Liz sat for a minute, taking a well-deserved break while nervously watching
Isabel. She was sitting facing the window, so she couldn't see anyway. It
was very unsettling having Isabel here. Who knew what she wanted?

Finally, Liz gathered up all of her courage and decided to go over to where
Isabel was sitting. Hey, if worse came to worse she could always kick Isabel
out. The Crashdown was due to close about 10 minutes from now anyway.

"Do you want some more Diet Coke?" Liz asked in what she hoped was her
friendliest-sounding voice.

"No thanks," Isabel responded in her usual haughty tone. Then she paused for
a moment, catching herself. "I... I mean, where's Maria? I haven't seen her
tonight."

Liz's mouth wanted to form an O of shock. Was it possible that Isabel Evans
was trying to be pleasant to her? It was probably just because there were no
witnesses. How convenient!

"Oh, she's in the back doing the weekly inventory with my dad... I used to
do it with him, but one day she took over for me and found out she was
really good at it. Now she does it all the time."

Isabel fought against the urge to make a snide little comment. "So who's
gonna help you clean up out here then?" she asked instead.

"Oh, well, I usually manage okay by myself when they're back there," Liz
answered, still unable to believe that she was actually holding a decent
conversation with Isabel, of all people. (Or aliens, rather.)

"Um... Do you want any help? Cleaning up, I mean." Isabel looked hopefully
up at Liz. Talking to her like this was getting easier by the second.

Liz was completely floored. "Well... sure," she answered, managing to giving
Isabel a genuine smile. "That would be great! Let me get you a rag so you
can scrub off all the table tops."

She returned a few moments later with a wet rag. Isabel took it, trying not
to look too disgusted as she touched the thing. "You do this every night?"
she asked in a horrified voice. She hadn't been able to help it that time.

But to her astonishment, Liz laughed. "Yeah. It's a major drag cleaning up
everybody else's mess," she said, gingerly pulling used gum from the bottom
of a chair. She stared at the sticky goo, wrinkling her nose in distaste.
"People can be such complete pigs!"

A couple of minutes passed. Isabel was cleaning off the booth where she,
Michael, and Max had been sitting when she spotted a pile of paper lying on
the floor beneath the table. "Oh, Michael must've left his drawings here,"
she said to Liz, picking them up and dusting them off. "I bet he's really
pissed off about that."

"Michael is pissed off at the world," Liz answered with a grin.

"That's true..." Isabel replied, smiling a little in return.

"Put them under the counter somewhere. He'll probably be back here looking
for them."

Isabel shrugged and went to find a place for them behind the counter.

When Liz bent over to pick up a fork that had dropped underneath one of the
tables, a couple of the fake alien photographs she always carried around to
show the tourists slipped out of her apron and fell to the floor.

Isabel picked them up and stared at them. "Oh, that's real nice," she said
sarcastically, pointing to the one featuring an alien holding something that
looked like a death-ray gun.

"I don't think aliens are like that," Liz said quietly, looking at Isabel.
"I think they're... surprisingly nice, once you get to know them."

Isabel was taken aback. Her eyes softened, and she gave Liz a pleased smile.
"Yeah... Humans aren't so bad either," she returned. She was awestruck to
find that she meant every word.

***

Liz stared at the door in disbelief. Isabel had just left a minute ago, and
Liz was still touched by their conversation. She was actually glad that
Isabel had stayed to help clean up! She couldn't wait to tell Max. He was
always telling her that there was more to Isabel than met the eye. This was
the first glimpse she had seen of it though... She had to admit that Isabel
might be friend-worthy. And Maria would never believe it in a million years.
Liz wished the Crashdown could afford a surveillance camera. That way she'd
have some proof.

Speaking of Maria, she finally emerged from the storeroom. She took a deep
breath and sighed. "Ahh, oxygen.... It's so nice to breathe real live actual
air. It's always so stuffy in there!"

She noticed that Liz was acting sort of strange. She was staring at the door
with a weird look on her face. Maria began to worry. What if something bad
had happened? Were they robbed? Did somebody forgot to leave her a tip?

"Liz? You okay? You look totally spaced out."

"I just had the most surprising thing happen," Liz said with a smile.

"Max came in, didn't he? Oh my god! Did he say anything? Did he--?"

But Maria was interrupted by Michael, who came bursting into the Crashdown a
la Kramer. (And he even had the spiky hair!) He looked agonized about
something.

He glanced frantically around, then saw Maria standing there, gaping at him
as if he had completely gone off the deep end. But it was too painful to
look at her. He turned to Liz. Panting and sounding out of breath, he asked,
"Have you seen--?"

"Your drawings," Liz finished.

Michael nodded, too winded to speak. He had ran practically the whole way
from Max's house to get here. He supposed he could've just gotten a ride,
but he needed the extra time to think.

"Under the counter," Liz said, bending down to pick them up.

"Thanks," Michael answered as Liz handed them over, his eyes on Maria.

Liz grinned and said, "I'm going to go back and see if Dad needs any help."

"Oh, no, he doesn't--" Maria began. But she quickly stopped when she saw the
look Liz was giving her. "Oh... I mean, yeah! You go do that!"

Maria gave Liz a grateful smile before she disappeared into the back. Then
she stood, facing Michael. He didn't look like a very happy camper.

Michael dragged his feet on the ground. Liz was gone. And now he was alone
with the very last person he wanted to be alone with.

***

Maria was right... Her dad didn't need any more help in the back. He was
already gone! He must've just gone home for the night.

She had been sitting on an overturned milk crate here in the storeroom for
about five minutes now. She knew what Maria meant when she said it was
stuffy back here! But she wanted to give Maria some time alone with Michael.
She knew Maria would've done the same for her if Max had showed up.

Then, she heard yelling. It sounded like Michael and Maria. Maybe they were
in trouble! She had to check to make sure...

"I'm sorry, okay!" Michael was exclaiming when Liz came out. "I just don't
have any feelings for you! I don't even like you!"

Maria looked absolutely enraged. "Fine!" she yelled. " I don't care! I
thought we had something, but I guess I was wrong!"

"Yeah, you were!" Michael said angrily, walking out and slamming the door.

Maria sat down at one of the tables, put her head down, and sobbed. Liz ran
to comfort her friend. She put an arm around her and stroked her hair, just
letting her cry.

She got up to get Maria some Kleenex. Out of the corner of her eye, she
noticed Michael peering through the window at Maria's dejected form, looking
guilty and deeply wounded. Liz pretended not to notice, and the next time
she stole a glance in that direction, he was gone.

"Maria, why don't you go home? I'm almost done here," Liz said when her best
friend had calmed down a little bit.

Maria sniffled and looked up with red watery eyes. "Okay," she said in a
pitiful voice.

"Go out the back way," Liz instructed as she tried to see out front. She was
hoping that Michael was still there. "I'll call you tonight when I get home
and you can tell me all about what happened, okay?"

"Okay," Maria repeated, getting up and giving Liz a hug. "Thanks."

"Don't thank me yet," Liz said quietly.

***

Michael sighed as he looked out into the still, dark night. He slumped
against a telephone pole outside the Crashdown Cafe in hurt defeat. If this
was the right thing, why did he feel so upset? He kicked defiantly at the
pole again and again, an inexpressible rage suddenly rising in him.

It was at this inconvenient time that Liz Parker chose to appear on the
scene. "Hey, Michael."

Michael looked up with tortured eyes, caught in the act of releasing his
frustration. His face closed up again as he withdrew back into his shell. He
knew what she was here for.

There was no return greeting. He just went straight to the real deal.

"Liz, I told her I wasn't interested in her like that," he said, carefully
avoiding eye contact. "Now will you just lay off about it?"

Liz moved closer to him, making him shift uncomfortably before she said,
"No, Michael, I'm not going to just lay off about it! Because I don't think
that what you told Maria is the truth."

He looked at her for just a moment, and she could clearly see his true
feelings in his eyes. But then the connection was broken as he addressed the
sidewalk. "Look, I know what you're doing. She's your best friend so you
thought you would come here and tell me off for her peace of mind. And
that's very noble of you. But to accuse me of lying--"

"Michael," Liz interrupted before he could dig himself further into the
hole. "I know you have feelings for her... Feelings that go deeper than you
would ever admit aloud. Especially to me. I can see it. Max told me that--"

Michael looked up, anger clouding his brooding face. Liz backed away a
couple of steps. Michael's intensity sometimes frightened her.

"Max told you what?" he asked in a threatening tone, looking wary.

"Just..." Liz began, then changed her mind. "Nothing," she said softly.

"No, tell me... I would like to know exactly what my friend Max has been
telling you." Michael's anger was pulsing behind every word.

Liz heaved a sigh and nervously answered, "He just said... He just told me
what you said to him. About Maria."

"Oh, that is just great," Michael replied irritably. "Why doesn't he just
take out a damn ad in the paper? It seems like every single day Max is
revealing to you yet another thing you shouldn't need to know about us!"

"So, you're not going to deny what you said to Max?"

Michael's tone abruptly softened. "It doesn't matter, Liz..." he began. He
had to make her see. His throat tightened as his mind tried to open up to
this girl whose fate was somehow entwined with his own. She had to
understand what ultimately had to happen. Not just to Maria, but to her as
well.

"Because I-- no, *we're*-- not always gonna be around. I can't get
involved. It's not for me. I did it for her... I don't wanna put her through
that."

Liz's face crumpled as she realized what he was implying.

Michael felt ashamed as he watched the sadness creep into her eyes. "You
know you can't be with Max," he finally said, putting a tentative hand on
her shoulder.

"You're not being very comforting," Liz said, tears standing out in her
eyes.

"And Maria..." Michael trailed off. All the pain and loss seemed to be fused
into a symphony of feelings lying behind that single phrase. That single
name. "She can't be with me."

"Do you really believe that?" Liz asked, trying valiantly to compose herself
with a swipe at her eyes.

"Yes... I mean, no!" Michael kicked the telephone pole again, startling Liz.
He looked apologetically at her. He had never revealed so much about himself
to anybody besides Max and Isabel.

He tried again to let her know what he meant. He forced himself to try and
get it out. "I mean... I don't want to believe it."

"You know what? I think you don't have enough information about your past to
even begin to speculate about who you are and where you're really from.
There's so much more to find out, so..."

"You're trying to say we're going to be here a while?"

"If we can keep the Sheriff and Miss Topolsky from discovering too much,"
Liz answered with a small smile.

Michael looked at her, his own smile curving on his lips for a minute. "So,
what are you trying to say?"

"Just that... There's no rush, really. We should just grab every moment we
have."

Realization dawned in Michael's eyes. "Yeah," he answered finally, nodding.

***

Maria looked out the living room window in disbelief. He wouldn't be there
this time. Nope. This was all just one giant conspiracy. Or maybe it was a
hallucination! Maybe somebody slipped her some spiked Diet Coke today at the
Crashdown. It could be a dream. It could be any number of things! Maria
pinched herself for the fourth time in less than five minutes. "Ouch!" she
exclaimed.

Peeking through the window again, she saw that Michael Guerin was still out
there. Standing on the sidewalk right outside of her house, lost in thought.

Okay, one more pinch. A *hard* one. Just to be sure...

"OWW!!!" Maria jumped around in agony.

All right, that's it! Maria decided she was going out there. He probably
just came by to torment her some more. But if he left, what would she have
to show for it? Just a really sore arm! So that decided it... She was going
out there!

She came bursting out of her front door, feeling the chill now creeping into
the night air. And she approached him. His back was to her now, so she
couldn't see his face. "Michael?" she asked softly.

He turned and regarded her moodily. But then, as he looked at her, his face
changed somehow. "Maria," he said gently, in a tone she had never heard from
him (or from anyone for that matter) before.

"What in the world are you doing here?" Maria wanted to know.

He stood there, frozen. For a long time, he just stood there with a puzzled
look on his face. Trying to think. Trying to articulate what he felt. It was
so hard! He never had to do this with Max and Isabel. They just seemed to
know. And, living where he did, living with who he lived with, he just
didn't have much experience with communicating with people. But then he
remembered Liz. He had told Liz... Or at least partially got his meaning
across. It had been enough for her to understand anyway.

Maria was peering at him wide-eyed the whole time, a little frightened. Was
he sick? Was he going to yell at her again? Why didn't he just say
something? And it was freezing out here!

Finally, Michael opened his mouth. He tried to look steadily at her as he
said, "I just came by to say..."

But here, he hit a roadblock. How could he tell her everything he felt? He
looked helplessly at her.

Maria missed the signal. "Okay, you are really starting to freak me out
here, Michael. Because I come out here and wait for you to just say
something for, like, practically *hours*... And then you still don't even
know what you're going to say! What is your problem? I mean, what? You didn't
have enough of doing this to me at the Crashdown? You needed to--"

"SHUT UP!!!" Michael yelled out in frustration.

Maria cringed and backed away from him. "I'm... sorry," she said nervously.

"Just... shut up," Michael said in a softer voice. "Please."

"Okay," Maria whispered meekly in an almost comical way. But she still
looked distrustfully at him.

Michael tried again. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"Well, uh, newsflash... You did!"

"No, I mean... That's why I told you... Why I told you I didn't... Why I
said I wasn't attracted to you."

"Wait a minute, let me get this straight here," Maria interjected. Her heart
was pounding. Something was happening. "In order not to hurt me, you had to
hurt me? Oh, that makes a ton of sense."

"Well, yeah," Michael said with a brief smile.

Then his face quickly turned serious as he gazed down at the sidewalk and
mumbled something too fast for her to catch.

"What was that?"

Michael struggled to look up at her. "I said that I didn't tell you the
truth... when I said I didn't like you."

"Oh," Maria said softly, feeling spots of pleasure slowly spiral down her
spine. Her mind was a whirl of thoughts. She had a million questions. But
somehow (miraculously, some might say!) she couldn't think of anything else
to say.

"I... This is so corny," Michael complained.

"No, it isn't!" Maria exclaimed, finding her voice again at last. "I think
it's amazingly cool. And sweet. So don't even think of stopping!"

Michael paused for a minute to gather his thoughts, and his courage. "I
mean, I don't know how long I'm going to be here," he finally said. "But while
I'm here... I want to know you. Really know you. And be able to talk to you
and stuff. About anything... 'Cause Max and Isabel are nice, but they're
not, you know... I don't feel anything like that for them. They're just my
friends... And it would be, uh, different with you. You know?"

He looked up, and she was still there. She hadn't run off in horror. She
wasn't laughing at him for revealing all of this to her in this bumbling,
stammering way, which was so unlike his typical
juvenile-delinquent-at-large-and-pissed-off-at-the-world speech. She was
looking at him endearingly, her face flushed. A pleased grin spread across
her face, lighting it up. She shivered, even though the night had pretty
much been robbed of its frosty bite by now, at least to her heated-up
insides.

Michael took off his coat and wrapped it around her. He took his time,
enjoying the feel of her shoulders under his hands. "You're cold?"

"No," Maria answered with a secretive Mona Lisa smile. "I'm all right."

"Then give me my coat back," Michael replied, upping the ante a little with
a grin.

"Well, if you want it, you're just gonna have to come and get it!" Maria
exclaimed in delight as she took off running down the street, Michael's coat
flapping in the wind.

And Michael had no choice but to pursue her out into the night. He knew he'd
catch her eventually, and that would be wonderful. But in the meantime, he
was also looking forward to the anticipation and uncertainty of the chase.

The End