Never any more,
While I live,
Need I hope to see his face
As before.
Once his love grown chill,
Mine may strive,
Bitterly we embrace,
Single still
Was it something said,
Something done,
Vexed him? was it touch of hand,
Turn of head?
Strange! that very way
Love begun:
I as little understand
Love's decay.
--from "In A Year" by Robert Browning

I want to pinpoint the exact moment when things changed. And then I want to find a way to fix things; I want to find a way to understand.

He went in the eraser room with her today.

This sort of thing isn't supposed to happen.

Max and I have a connection, we have an understanding. He touched me and I saw how he felt about me. He saved me, he risked everything for me. Why? I asked him that once. "Because it was you," was his reply.

I used to look up at school and feel Max's eyes on me. I used to see him when I was at work. He used to come by and see me at night. We used to sit on the roof and talk. Being with Max felt so right-in spite of all the secrets I've had to keep, in spite of all the lies I've had to tell.

I thought that we were building something. I was sure, I was so sure that we were creating something good. I was convinced that Max and I had a future. I'd rearranged my plans for him, expanded my vision of what was to come.

And now I can't help but wonder: What happened?

There's someone new at school and she likes Max. And I think he likes her.

How could something so mundane change everything? I always thought that any threats to Max and I would come from people wanting to discover his secret: the sheriff, Topolsky or someone like her-I never, ever thought that what happens to other couples would happen to us. She doesn't know who he is, or to be more accurate, she doesn't know what he is.

To her, he's just a boy. And for Max-Max, who's spent his whole life pretending to be something he's not-maybe even wanting to be something he's not, that's got to be seductive. When he was with me, we had to be careful. Kyle was suspicious. The sheriff was suspicious. Things were always happening when Max and I were together; we were always running from one crisis to the next. Tess comes without strings, without hesitation.

I saw him sitting with her in the library the other day. Maria told me they were just studying for a test, and that's what Max said too. But I saw the way they were sitting; I saw how her head was angled towards his. I saw how he was looking at her.

Maria says that Tess has nothing on me. She says that Max and I have a bond, that since I know his secret, since he saved me, we are linked together. "You have the whole soul-mate, look-into-my-eyes thing going on. What could Tess offer that's better than that?"

A chance to be normal. A chance to go on a date, a real date, that doesn't end with a crisis or an emergency. A chance to be just Max Evans, not Max Evans, Alien. Why wouldn't Max want that?

If I was in his place, it's what I would want too.

**

Max hasn't come by the Crashdown. I haven't talked to him in two days. I tell myself it isn't a big deal, even as I scrub counters and stack glasses and wait on customers and avoid Maria's eyes.

Maria finally corners me in the break room. She tells me that I've got to calm down, that if I want Max I have to fight for him.

It's not that easy. How can I fight for something that never really existed? Max and I never declared anything other than our mutual worries. How can I fight for something that was never really defined?

"What, just like you fought for Michael?"

I'm sorry the moment it leaves my mouth. Michael is a sore spot with Maria. They have a sort of grudging truce, but that thing- whatever they had-has shifted and changed again. Now they seem to almost despise each other. Maria says Michael is heartless and I'm sure he is-I think of how he treated me when I first knew about them-the way he would stare at me, the way he would needle me, the way he felt he needed to test me by stealing my journal. Michael just treats Maria the way he does everyone else-with a sort of callous indifference that is a million times worse in this case because he has told her that she affects him. Now Maria thinks he was lying, and she hates herself and him.

I grab her arm and she pulls away from me.

"Thanks a lot Liz," she says, and I can tell she is on the verge of tears.

"I'm sorry," I tell her. "I shouldn't have said that, I know that. I'm just..."

"What? Angry? Upset? Been there, done that, babe. Look, you've just got to realize that Max isn't worth this. Before the shooting, what was he to you? Some cute guy you didn't know. You've just got to get back there. To before you knew."

I nod. She's right, of course. If you'd asked me about Max Evans in August, I would have said he was a cute guy, sort of quiet. I wouldn't have cared if he'd fallen for Tess, I never would have noticed, because I never really noticed Max Evans before he saved my life.

"I know," I tell her. "It's just..."

"...hard," she finishes. "Liz, I know. But you'll be fine. Ask yourself this: if Max Evans were a regular guy, would you be so upset over all of this? Would you care?"

Yes. I would care. I was drawn to Max because of what he is, but now I love him for who he is. But that isn't what Maria wants to hear, it's not what I want to think about. "Come on, let's go back to work. I'm fine."

Maria gives me a hug and I think again about how glad I am I told her about Max and the others. If I had to go through this alone, I don't think I could.

**

Tess is sitting at a table when we go back out to the restaurant. Maria tells me she'll go over and take care of getting her order. I shake my head no. "I can handle her."

"I walk over to where she is sitting. "Hi Tess."

She smiles at me. "Hey Liz! Have you seen Max?"

I look blindly at the order pad, I feel the pen in my right hand. Just breathe.

I can do this.

"No, I haven't see him."

Tess frowns slightly. "I was supposed to meet him here." She smiles at me. "Was he always late when you guys were dating?" She laughs a little and gives me a look that says 'Men!'

To Tess, I am just an ex-girlfriend. To Tess, Max is just a guy she likes. To Tess, Max is just human. Everything is so simple for her.

I want to tell her everything. I want to tell her about Max, I want to see her eyes widen with shock. I want her to deal with everything like I did. I want her to be weaker than I am, I want her to crack and run away. I want Max to come in and tell her that he's sorry, but he's in love with me.

"Hey Tess. Max told me to tell you he's coming. He's just parking the jeep." Michael. He slides into the booth, sits across from Tess. Michael never went anywhere with Max and me. He avoided us; he told Max that he was in over his head with me. I glare at him. It's easier to hate Michael than it is to hate Max.

He doesn't even greet me, just picks up a menu and starts studying it. Tess smiles at me and gives me a small shrug.

I hate her. I hate the way she apologizes for Michael; I hate the way she waits for Max.

I tell her I'll come back in a minute or two and go back to the kitchen. I watch Max come in. He looks at Michael, looks at Tess, clearly unsure of where to sit. She slides over a little and smiles at him. He smiles back at her and sits down.

Maria grabs my hand. "It'll be ok. I'll go get their order."

I smile at her, grateful for any kindness, and force myself to think about the other tables I'm supposed to be taking care of.

**

After they're done eating, I go over and give Max the check, just to prove that I can. I see how he looks at me when I give him the check. I see he still cares about me.

I want to ask him what's going on, I want to ask him why he is with her. Tess. I see the books on the table and know he will say they are studying. I see Michael's smirk and know that they are not studying; that Max cares for this girl. I look at her. What is so special about her? I don't see anything remarkable.

Max gives me a smile, a slow sweet smile that makes my hopes rise. Tess says she has to go and tells me good-bye. I watch as she leaves and I look at Max. He is gazing at her. He is watching her.

I feel lost. I don't know what to say. I don't want to ask him about her, I don't want him to lie to me. In the end, I say nothing. I just walk away.

Michael and Max leave together. Maria grabs Michael's arm, says something to him. He shoots me a look-faintly contemptuous, mostly indifferent, and leaves. Maria comes over, muttering about aliens and their inability to communicate. I laugh at the joke she makes and watch Max get in his jeep, watch him drive away.

I wonder if we will able to recapture what we had, I wonder how I can compete with the promise of normalcy. I don't think I can.

**

The rest of my day is slow and painful. I hope that my father will come downstairs and tell me that Max has called. He doesn't. I could call the Evans' house, but I don't want to talk to Isabel, couldn't bear it if she told me "Max isn't home, he's out studying with Tess. He's so happy Liz, don't you want him to be happy?"

Maria leaves at eight. She tells me to call her when I get home. She will listen to my laments about Max; she will calm me down. I give her a quick hug, thank her.

For once, I don't want the Crashdown to close. I don't want to go home and think about my day, I don't want to go home and think about Max. I don't want to go home and think about Tess.

Michael comes in as the last customers are leaving. "We're closed." I tell him wearily. "And Max isn't here."

"Oh, I know" he tells me. "He's with Tess."

I can't help myself--the pile of dishes I am carrying wobbles slightly. I hear the soft clink of plates bumping together. I force myself to walk over to the counter, force myself to put the dishes down carefully.

I look over at Michael, who is sitting down on one of the stools. He is running a finger over the counter; there is a smile on his face.

"You're happy," I say accusingly. "You think this is good."

"You wanted to tell her," he says. "I saw you when I came in here earlier today. You were thinking about telling her."

I shrug. Maybe I did, maybe I do. But it's none of Michael's business.

He laughs. "The great Liz Parker stooping to revenge tactics?"

"It's not that!" I tell Michael angrily. "You don't know me at all."

He shrugs, and I can see that he doesn't care. He doesn't care what I think; he doesn't care what I feel. He just wants to protect Max. I can't understand why Maria fell for him. I look at his cold eyes and I don't see anything even remotely human in them. What's the appeal?

"Why would I tell Tess that Max is an alien?"

"Because it might upset her, and she might not like Max anymore."

I turn a chair upside down and set it on top of a table as gently as possible. I want to slam it down, I want to imagine that it's Michael's head, but it's not worth it, he's not worth it.

"It's not that, I wouldn't do that, it's just...''

"What?" He sounds bored and aggravated. I look over at him. He is staring at me.

His eyes don't look bored. They are narrowed and intense and I have to swallow because my throat is suddenly dry.

"I just see how he looks at her, that's all."

He sighs a little. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"He looks at her like you used to look at Maria, like you looked at her the night you came into the Crashdown when she was cleaning back in December."

Silence. I look over at him, and see that he is staring at me, eyes wide, mouth open. He didn't know that I saw him that night. Maria knew, but I guess she never mentioned it. I once asked her if she and Michael even ever talked and she said they did. I now know that she was lying. They didn't talk; they never talked.

I think of how Max looked as he was walking into the eraser room after Tess today, I think of the intent look on his face, of how it was all angle and sharp curves. Of how his eyes seemed to glow.

That's how Michael looked like that night; that's how he looked when he stared at Maria, how he looked when he was touching Maria. Why don't I see that glow when anyone touches me, why don't I get that look?

"Then he just wants her, that's all."

I laugh. "Is that supposed to be a joke, Michael?" I look over at him, and he is dead serious, staring at me. When Max got hurt in that accident and I was at the hospital, I came into the room when Max and Michael were talking. I said something to Max, and I could feel Michael staring at me. I could sense the look on his face; I didn't need to look at him. I'd seen it before. Distrust, anger, and something else I could never put my finger on. That's how he's looking at me now-he looks irritated and suspicious and something else, a hot light at the back of his eyes. Like he knows something I don't.

"No joke," he says." It's not a big deal. We've all seen how Max looks at you, and it's not how he looks at Tess."

I stand up, suddenly angry with Michael. I may have told myself that I wanted to hear the truth but it doesn't mean I do. I don't want to hear it, and I don't want Michael to be honest with me anymore.

"How can that not be a big deal?" My voice cracks and I don't want to cry. I have cried and cried and cried some more. I am so tired of it.

"What, am I not speaking slowly enough for you? Like I said, he just wants her, that's all. Do you know how hard life is for us? Do you ever think that maybe Max just wants to be a guy, just wants to be normal?"

"And what, he couldn't have that with me?"

"Of course not," Michael says. "Max loves you. He wants you to know who he is. He doesn't care if Tess knows or not. Don't you see--that's why he's so interested in her. He doesn't care about her like he cares about you."

I will not cry. I will not cry. "You're telling me that Max wants Tess for what, sex? You're saying that it's ok-that I shouldn't worry because he doesn't love her? That I just have to wait and he'll come back?"

"Yes. That's exactly what I'm saying."

I turn and look at him. How can he possibly think this will make me feel better? How can he possibly think that the options he's listed are something that would ever be acceptable to me?

Then I realize-he doesn't want me to feel better. I see the light in his eyes-he wants to hurt me, he's glad he's hurt me. He resents my presence in Max's life, in his life. He's sorry that Max ever told me, he's sorry that I have any sort of claim on Max's heart. "I can't believe you're saying this to me."

"Oh, for God's sake," he says. "Stop being such a baby. You can want someone and not love them. You can have sex and not be in love. Wake up from your Victorian dreamworld, Liz. Not everyone needs hearts and flowers. Maybe Max is tired of being miserable. Maybe he wants a little happiness. Is that so wrong?"

"You hate me" I tell him. "Why? What have I ever done to you?"

I can't think of anything. I can't think of why he hates me so. I have never done anything to Michael.

Except find out who he was, change his life, bring other people into his world.

Change Max's priorities, make him think about being human, make him think about love.

That's why Michael hates me. I changed things.

I'm not afraid of him anymore. I have his number. I look right at him, right into those eyes, so cold and so hot at the same time. Go ahead, I think-just say it. I changed everything. I wrecked your life. I'm not afraid, just say it. Even aliens can't avoid change.

"You just don't get it," he tells me, and his voice is soft, so soft. I've never heard him talk like that before-his tone is almost sweet. It makes the hairs on my arms rise, and I have a feeling that I've just made a terrible, terrible mistake, that I've overlooked something.

Something important.

He stands up and walks towards me. His hand reaches out towards my face and I want to duck. I feel like I should move, but I can't. I just stand there, not understanding yet, not comprehending. His fingers slide down my cheek. Max has touched my face before. It was a sweet feeling, I felt anticipation and happiness, a sort of giddy pleasure.

Michael's fingers rest on my throat. I don't feel sweet. I look in his eyes and I see the way he stared at me when he found out that I knew who he was, I hear his voice telling me to get out of the way, get out of his way. I avoided his gaze then and looked at Max. Max would listen to me, Max would understand.

Michael doesn't understand, he doesn't want to, he doesn't care.

Michael's mouth is touching mine.

He is kissing me.

I think; no, I know he's doing it to prove a point. No hearts and flowers, just like he said; not even any feelings that I recognize, nothing like what happened when I kissed Kyle, nothing, nothing at all like kissing Max. It is just a kiss.

But it's a good kiss.

No, it's a great kiss.

I'm shocked. Before Max, kissing was ok, sometimes even pretty good. But kissing Max was on a different level altogether. It was magical, it was destiny, it was love.

Of course it felt good.

But Michael-Michael, who hates me, who is forever resenting the time Max and I spent together, who blames me for changing his life, who has never noticed me except to glance at me mockingly or say something chilling-he is kissing me. And I like it.

He pulls back and I can hear myself breathing. In science class last year, we learned about dimensions, and how they aren't fixed and static but fluid and changing. I liked the idea of it-the notion that reality itself is flexible, but now I realize how stupid I was. I didn't understand anything, I should have been glad that I hadn't been exposed to any more truths about myself.

I think of how there may be another reality, another Liz who pulls back and slaps his face. And maybe another reality where Tess doesn't exist and Michael and I never had this conversation, a reality where I haven't learned things about myself, about Michael, about Max, that I didn't want to know.

Michael kisses me again and I open my mouth for him, wrap my arms around his neck. When I was eight, my grandmother gave me a book of fairy tales. Most of them were about King Arthur, and one of them was about the Lady of the Lake.

There was a picture of her. She was underwater, and she looked like she was trapped-there were strands of vegetation wrapped around her, holding her down.

But her face looked so serene and peaceful-she looked happy.

I never understood that. How could you be happy even though you were captured, drowned?

Michael's hands slide under my hips, pulling me against him.

And now I understand.

**

We are in the break room now. I am lying on the sofa, and Michael is kissing my neck. One of his hands has slid inside my uniform, is cupping my breast. His fingers slide over one of my nipples, capture it between them, and there's a slight tugging, a pressure between my legs that I only thought occurred withMax.

His mouth is on mine again and I bite his lower lip, suck on his tongue. He makes a noise and the hot melting sensation between my thighs is real.

He has pushed my bra up, I can feel the underwire digging into the tender skin under my arms, but his mouth is on my breasts and I am wondering if it would have felt like this with Max.

Max.

I think of his face, the curve of his mouth, the gentle warmth of his hands.

Michael's hands are cooler. They are curving up under my breasts now; they are sliding down my stomach. I open my eyes and catch a glimpse of his hair, so much lighter than Max's, see the work schedule on the far wall. I wonder if Maria is working tomorrow.

Maria. So angry with Michael. So "over him" that I know she is anything but over him. I think of how Michael looks when he talks to her-softer, less sure of himself.

I shove him away from me and sit up, look at him. His eyes are hot, bright.

He still hates me. And now I think I know why.

"You proved your point," I tell him tiredly.

"Good," he tells me, and walks to the door. "Leave Max alone, let him be happy, even if it's only for a little while."

I don't say anything-what else is there to say? I simply lock the door after he's gone, and go back to cleaning up.

I wonder how long Max and Tess will last. I wonder how long it will be till Max and I are together again. I wonder how long it will be until Michael comes to see me again. I wonder how long I will last before I let him touch me.

I wonder why no one ever tells you that love and hate aren't so different after all.