"She was going to be late for class. Liz is the ultimate archetype for the perfect student, she would never be caught dead tardy, and I mean that literally. As for Maria taking our order, Liz was probably busy with another table. There are other patrons besides us," Isabel rationalized. Max said nothing, just continued to pick at his food unhungrily. She wisely decided to change the subject. "So, have you talked to Michael yet?"

"No," he answered, dragging his fry around in the ketchup. "He's coming over tonight though. I'll talk to him then."

Isabel spotted Maria headed over to their direction to deliver food to the boothbehind them. "Okay, there she is. Give her the note to give to Liz and we can get out of here."

-----

Michael waited patiently by Maria's car. Glancing down at his watch, he saw the Crashdown would be closing in three minutes. He transferred the rolled- up paper from his left hand to his right and began to lean against the car door.

He stared upwards at the night sky, at the twinkling stars above him.

'Why can't I get her out of my mind?' he silently asked the tiny dots of light.

He wasn't supposed to feel this way. He wasn't supposed to get attached to anyone or anything. That way, if he-- *when* he left, he wouldn't have any emotional baggage to carry. That way, there would be no hesitance to leave. None at all.

"Hey, spaceboy, need a lift?"

Maria stood before him, grinning, her Crashdown uniform draped over her arm and keys in hand. It was odd: there she was, in a simple outfit of jeans and a white sleeveless top, with hardly any makeup on and her hair slightly askew, and she looked even more beautiful than ever, smiling at him and standing in the moonlight.

"Hey, *earthgirl*, I think I've learned my lesson about getting into a car with you, but thanks just the same," he replied, returning the teasing smile and straightening his posture.

"Hey, who wrecked who's car?"

"Who's car was wrecked to begin with?"

"Who's an asshole?"

"Who's a prude?"

"Who--" Maria was stopped when Michael placed a hand over her mouth.

"Hey, just let me win this round, okay?" he said with a grin. He took his hand away and extended the sketch to her. "I just wanted to give you this. I got Mr. Cowan to grade it right after I finished."

An excited look crossed Maria's face. She gleefully lay her uniform and her keys on the hood of her car and, taking the sketch from him, began to unroll it as carefully but as quickly as she could. When it was finally unraveled, Maria looked in amazement at the finished product. "Oh, my god..."

Michael had painted over the charcoal and added an array of colors and hues that made the picture even more vibrant and full. The Maria she saw appeared as if she was about to walk off the paper, laughing and talking at a mile a minute; she was so radiant, so full of life and passion.

So this was how Michael saw her.

Curious, she turned the sketch over to see the grade he had gotten.

"My very first A+," Michael said proudly. "Feel free to post in on your refrigerator."

"Thank you," she said quietly, her eyes slightly moistening. Maria quickly wiped away any signs of dampness. She was incredibly touched by Michael's present, but she didn't want him to see how vulnerable she could be.

She leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. Michael's breath caught in his throat at the contact. He stood back for a moment, his heart pounding. He struggled with his thoughts, going back and forth in his head.

Then he made the decision that went against his logic.

He cautiously stepped towards her again and gently cupped her face with his hands, catching her slightly off guard. "Michael?" she whispered the words, a little bewildered. "What..."

He moved towards her, and he gently brushed his lips over hers, a strong electric jolt moving through him at the simple touch. Michael's face moved away slightly to assess her reaction, praying that what would follow would not be a look of utter disgust or a painful slap to the face.

Her eyes fluttered open, as if she were waking from a dream, and they stared at each other, waiting for the other to make some sort of motion or gesture, their gaze never breaking. Finally, Maria gave a small smile, as if to give him permission to continue.

Michael leaned in again, and this time the kiss was more hungry, more ardent. Her arms reached up to circle his neck, and gradually his hands found her petite waist. Michael pulled Maria closer to him, so tightly that their bodies were pressed together in a heated embrace and she fancied she could feel his heart beating against hers.

He didn't know how long it was before they pulled away from each other. But when they did, he did not let go of her and she rested her head on his shoulder. They stood there, on the sidewalk, forgetting everything around them.

"I'm... I'm not supposed to feel this way," he breathed the words into her neck.

It took a several seconds before she could respond. "I know," she answered softly before burying her head further into the curve between his neck and shoulder. After a moment of solemn silence, Michael felt her smile against his skin. "So, do a drawing, get a girl, huh? Very DiCaprio-esque."

"Yeah, except he sketched the girl nude." He paused. "Which is something I wouldn't mind *entirely*-- ow!"

Maria had pinched his arm, and Michael quipped, "You know, usually, when girls pinch guys, it's on their bu--" She pinched his arm again.

---

Dear Liz, I don't know what's going on with you, or even if there's cause to be concerned, but I just want to know if everything is all right. Max

Liz sighed as she refolded the note. There she was, sitting cross-legged on her bed, having second, third, and fourth thoughts about what to do.

It was the tenth thought that reminded her why she was doing all of this in the first place.

With a pained expression on her face, she got up and tossed the piece of paper into her wastebasket, though her heart told her to do otherwise.

----

That evening, Max Evans saw something he thought he would never encounter in his entire life.

His best friend smiling, ear to ear.

"Good evening, Maximillian," said Michael in a strangely spirited voice, striding past Max into the house and making his way to the kitchen.

"You're awfully cheery," Max said, trailing behind him.

Michael opened the refrigerator and examined the contents. "I'm in a good mood."

Max hopped onto the kitchen counter and observed his best friend from his perch. "A good mood is one thing, but an eternal grin plastered on your face is another. What's going on?"

Michael pulled out a soda. "What do you mean?" he asked innocently, tapping the top of the can lightly before cracking it open.

"You're acting out of character, Michael. Isabel noticed it first, and now I'm starting to wonder. Something's up."

"Nothing's up," he replied, taking a swig.

Max raised an eyebrow. "Nothing?"

"Nothing," he confirmed.

"Fine then," Max said, hopping down from the counter and grabbing a soda for himself.

Michael looked at him, somewhat stunned at his unenthusiastic investigation. "You're just going to give up, just like that? Now you're acting out of character."

"Well... I wouldn't say I'm giving up exactly," Max said, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "But I'd expect Isabel to be paying you a visit in Dreamland tonight to get some answers."

Michael considered his options and then finally gave in. "Fine, I'll tell you." He exhaled slowly. "I was going to tell you eventually, when things were more clear and definite."

"Go on," Max prodded, taking a sip from his drink.

"Well, lately..."

"Lately..."

"I've been having feelings for someone." He awkwardly looked down at his soda for a moment, then looked up to see his friend's stunned expression.

"Really? Who?" An idea crossed his mind before Michael could answer. "Wait... not..." His face became incredulous. "*Maria*?"

Michael stood there silently, even a bit sheepishly, which Max took as a yes.

"But... I thought you guys couldn't stand each other!"

"Well, she grows on you," Michael replied.

"Oh, my God..." Max began to chuckle. "...*you* and *Maria DeLuca*..."

"Why is that so amusing to you?"

"It's just... you and Maria..." His laughter began to subside, and he cleared his throat. "The last person I pictured you with was her. You two are complete opposites."

Michael shrugged. "We have more in common than you think," he said, setting his drink down on the kitchen table at sitting in one of the chairs. "Besides... I like being around her, I like talking to her... and even though she gets on my nerves sometimes..." His voice drifted off. "She just feeds me this incredible energy, you know?"

Max nodded, thinking of Liz. He did know.

"And she's great kisser, too," Michael added with a grin.

Max almost spit out his drink. "Excuse me?"

"I know, I know, I'm insane," Michael said, shaking his head. "I shouldn't let myself get attached to anyone here, 'cause God knows what could happen." He sighed. "There's a part of me that is just screaming at me to stay away from her. But there's another part pulling me in her direction."

"That's the human in you. Irrational and sometimes erratic, but you can't help it."

Michael and Max looked at each other silently. Isabel chose that moment to walk into the kitchen to check up on them. "So, what's up?" she asked, looking from one to another.

Max grinned at Michael. "Guy talk."

Isabel raised an eyebrow. "Guy talk?"

"Guy talk," Michael confirmed as the doorbell rang.

Isabel rolled her eyes at the two males. "I'll get that," she said, heading back out of the kitchen.

She swung the door open to find Liz Parker standing before her, looking anxious and a bit nervous. "Hi, Liz," she said, somewhat surprised.

"Hey, Isabel," Liz responded quietly. "Is Max home--"

The door was opened further and Max appeared in the doorway next to Isabel. "Liz."

-----

"I'm sorry, I should have called first," Liz apologized as she sat down on the curb in front of his house.

"No, it's okay," Max replied, sitting down next to her, so close that Liz could smell the faint scent of his cologne and his hand rested micrometers away from hers.

"I got your note," she began, staring at the road in front of her.

He remained silent, waiting for her to continue.

"I wasn't going to come, but..." She forced her eyes toward him. "What's going on is... is that I've been doing some thinking. I think it's best we go back to our old agreement of talking and being seen together only when absolutely necessary."

Max looked at her, stunned. "Why the sudden change of heart?"

"It's not sudden," Liz replied. "In the back of my mind, I always knew it was the right thing to do but was too selfish to admit it."

"Is this about what happened in Texas?" he asked. "Is this about Kyle and is dad?"

"Yes. Kyle, he's getting closer and closer to finding out, and the more I look like I'm involved, the more he's going to snoop around in order to 'protect' me. It's not safe, Max," she answered as with much calm and reason she could muster. "This is the way things have to be."

"I don't want them to be this way," he said softly.

"But they have to," she told him. "I'm sorry. I don't want them this way either, but--"

"Then they don't have to," he said, his voice more forceful than it usually was.

"Yes, they do," she said as firmly as possible.

"We can't even be friends?" His eyes seemed to plead with hers, and she needed to look away again.

"No," Liz answered, her voice starting to shake.

"It's not going to work, Liz. We've tried this before, and it didn't."

"We'll just try harder," she replied, standing up. "Max, I have to go--"

"No," he said, rising from his seat on the sidewalk. He caught her arms and faced her towards him. "Not until you hear me out. Look at me, Liz. Look at me."

When finally her sad brown eyes looked up at him, he said to her, "I know there are a million reasons why we should stay away from each other, but at the same time..." He took a deep breath. "I can't help how I feel. I can't help how I feel about you. I... I love you. No matter how many times I've desperately tried not to, I love you. I always have."

That's when the dam broke. Tears streamed down Liz's face. "And I love you," she whispered hoarsely. Max's heart lept at those words, but it crumbled at the ones that followed. "Which is one of the million reasons why we can't be together. Because I care about you too much to put your life in jeopardy. Good-bye, Max." She pulled herself away from him and started to run down the street.

"Liz, wait!" he called after her. But it was too late.

She was gone.

-----

Maria pulled a binder out from her locker and slid it into her messenger backpack. "Hi," Michael said, suddenly at her side, leaning against the locker next to hers.

Maria, momentarily startled, recovered quickly. She had become more accustomed to Michael's surprise entrances. "You like shocking people don't you?"

"And you get that from...?"

"Well, you're even earlier today than you were yesterday," Maria said, glancing the hallway clock. "Keep this up and you'll be making your homeroom teacher speechless."

"Uh, I wouldn't go that far," Michael replied. His infamous crooked grin began to appear, and he leaned closer towards her. "But you never know. You might just prove to be that good of an influence on me." The gap between their two bodies narrowed as his lips touched hers in a quick yet sufficiently heartracing kiss.

When Michael pulled away from her, they shyly smiled at each other. "I've been waiting ten hours for that," he admitted.

Maria blushed slightly. "So, what is this?" she asked. "What are we?"

"We're... going out, I guess." He quickly added, "If-- if you want, of course."

She joked, "I think to go out, you actually have to go out. Like on dates."

"Pick you up at seven?" Michael responded, his eyes dancing.

Maria smile widened as she accepted his offer. "I would love to."

His body twitched slightly. "Whoa, that was weird."

"What was weird?"

"I think hell just froze over," he remarked jokingly. Maria laughed and punched him in the arm.

She closed her backpack and as she was about to shut her locker door, her legs quaked and she almost lost her balance. She held onto the locker shelf to regain poise.

"Hey, you all right?" Michael asked, his lighthearted disposition now gone. He placed a hand on her shoulder to help steady her.

"Yeah, I'm just a little dizzy," Maria hastily, closing the door and locking it. "I must have turned around too quickly," she added, giving him a bright smile to reassure him that she was okay.

----

"Okay, so I'm thinking..." Alex said to Liz, jauntily walking beside her," ...what better theme for the winter formal than-- get ready for this..." He stopped and dramatized his voice. "...RETURN OF THE KILLER SNOWMEN! Huh? We could get these ice sculptures, these totally kickin' ice sculptures that wield knives and axes. And for refreshments, rather than the usual and oh-so-stimulating fruit punch... SNOW CONES. I think the dance would be a big hit, don't you?"

Liz, not amused, asked, "Are you being serious?"

"No, I'm *trying* to get rid of this depression-dejection-despair cloud that just hovers above you in this annoyingly consistent manner," Alex replied. "Tell me, what is it that you see him in that gets you pining away in typical Southern belle fashion?"

"The same thing you see in his sister?" Liz quipped with a small smile.

Alex paused. "Point taken," he responded.

-----

The nightlife in Roswell was not all that exciting. It was seriously lacking. In fact, it wouldn't be a far stretch to say that it was absolutely pathetic.

Yet Maria and Michael walked the streets, joking around, talking, their laughs and voices echoing throughout the alleys, not noticing it at all.

"You know, you should really laugh more often," Maria said, spooning up some of her strawberry ice cream. "Why is that you always must keep up this brooding rebel-with-a-cause reputation of yours?"

Michael swallowed the last spoonful of the pistachio ice cream he had just shoveled into his mouth. "Hey, that's not fair, you've already asked your fair share of questions. It's my turn."

Maria shrugged. "Fine, fire away. I, unlike you, Mr. Must-Maintain-Mystery Man, have nothing to hide." She grinned, elbowing his side.

"Well, I already know your favorite ice cream flavor," he said, glancing at her Baskin Robbins cup. "Favorite television show."

"'The Simpsons'," Maria answered without blinking an eye. She finished off the last of her dessert and tossed her and Michael's containers into a nearby trash can.

Michael nodded his approval at her choice, and he and Maria sat side by side at a bench overlooking the elementary school playground. "Favorite book."

"Hamlet."

Michael looked at her, incredulous. "Hamlet?"

"'To die: to sleep... and by a sleep to say we end the heartache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation devoutly to be wish'd'," she recited, knowing each word by heart. "'To die, to sleep; to sleep, perchance to dream... For in that sleep of death what dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, must give us pause.'" Maria smiled at Michael's somewhat dumbfounded expression. "Scene 3, Act I. You're not the only one who can randomly quote classic literature. Next question, please."

He looked at her solemnly. "What's a girl like you doing with a guy like me?"

"Ah, that wasn't on the list."

"It's my own personal question, okay?"

"I don't answer personal questions, okay?" she perfectly mimicked him.

Michael rolled his eyes. "Seriously."

"Seriously..." Maria sighed. "That time in the motel, when we were talking...that was the first time I ever felt like someone was listening to me. *Really* listening, you know?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I know."

"So, naturally, I want to duplicate that feeling."

"What feeling?"

"The feeling that someone might actually care about what I have to say," Maria replied. "That I'm not alone, that I might possibly belong here on earth."