The Rebel rh-8

by Melinda Metz

  Liz ignored it. She reached into her backpack, pulled out a brown paper sack, and thrust it into Max's hands..

  He opened the top and gave a long sniff. "Blueberry and jalapeno. You made them just for me?" Max said, sounding like it was this big deal.

  Liz got an unexpected burst of what-an-excellent-girlfriend-I-am pleasure. It was only marred by the fact that she knew she'd made the muffins as soon as she got home from visiting Adam yesterday, in a session of somewhat guilt-induced baking. "You're pretty much the only one who'd eat them," she reminded him.

  Max wrapped her ponytail around his fist and gently urged her head back. Then he leaned over and kissed her, kissed her in a way that made her feel like she was his whole universe.

  Now that Alex is back, everything's going to be different, Liz thought when Max lifted his lips from hers. Max wouldn't have to connect in that deep way anymore.

  "I always thought that saying 'the way to a man's heart is through his stomach' was sexist propaganda," she said, still a little breathless from that amazing kiss. "But I guess not."

  "I do love the taste of those muffins," he teased. He paused, then added, "But I love the taste of you more."

  Liz grabbed Max's T-shirt and pulled him back toward her, and they were kissing again. It felt so good. So right. As if some missing piece of herself had miraculously been found.

  Liz slipped one hand around to the sweet spot at the back of Max's neck. He gave her bottom lip a playful nibble.

  Then his lips went slack.

  Liz pulled away slowly. When she looked into Max's eyes, they were blank. Her stomach dropped down to her toes, a wave of revulsion sweeping through her.

  He'd gone into a deep connection right in the middle of kissing her. Had the beings been able to feel the kiss? Feel the sensation of her lips and tongue?

  Liz yanked the neck of her T-shirt up until it covered her mouth, then she scrubbed, and scrubbed, and scrubbed. When she finished, the top of the T-shirt was stained with plum lipstick, and her lips felt raw.

  She shot a glance at Max. At the Max thing. Because it definitely wasn't Max over there, not entirely, at least. It wasn't the guy who'd just made her feel like they were the only two people alive, living in their own Garden of Eden.

  Liz reached for the door handle, then hesitated. "I can't just leave him here like this," she muttered. "There might be something really wrong."

  She'd never seen Max have quite that reaction to connecting before, not that sudden clicking off. She forced herself to watch him until she could see his awareness of his surroundings, of her, return.

  That little episode had nothing to do with Alex, Liz told herself. She had to accept that Max had changed after he went through his akino. His connection to the consciousness was the most powerful, intense thing in his life now.

  "Sorry," he said. "I just got this massive flood of… of emotion, basically, from the consciousness. I couldn't control it at all. It just took me over."

  "Are you okay?" Liz made herself ask.

  Just say yes so I can get out of here, she thought, shocking herself with the strength of her desire to get away from Max.

  "Yeah," he answered, his voice a little thick, as if he'd been asleep. "I wish I knew what was going on. I think maybe it has something to do with one of the Stones of Midnight. But that's all I got. None of the beings have really taken the time to explain things to me." He angled his head so he could see her watch. "Was I out long?"

  "Less than a minute," Liz said. She smoothed a stray section of hair back into her ponytail and reached for the door handle again.

  "So we still have a little time to…" Max smiled as he slid one arm around her shoulders.

  Another wave of revulsion rose up inside her, and Liz gave an involuntary shudder. "Actually, I have to go to the library before class." She climbed out of the Jeep, gave Max a quick wave, and bolted.

  It wasn't that she didn't want to kiss Max again. Kissing Max was what she wanted more than anything.

  But it hadn't been Max sitting next to her. Not really.

  ***

  Alex heard a key turn in the lock. A moment later he heard the sound of his parents' voices, and something inside him twisted.

  He stood up from the kitchen table. Before he could reach the kitchen door, his parents walked in, each carrying a couple of bags of groceries.

  His mother looked up, and both bags slipped out of her hands. "Alex?" His name came out in a long quaver.

  "It's me, Mom," he answered, his own voice not completely steady.

  "Alex?" she repeated. She stumbled toward him, her heel catching on a box of cookies that had fallen out of one of the bags. Alex reached out and grabbed her by the elbows to steady her, and her hands locked on his arms as if she never planned to let him go.

  "I'm okay. Don't worry. I'm fine," he told her.

  "Where were you?" she cried. Her fingers dug so deeply into his skin that Alex was sure they'd leave bruises. But he didn't try to pull away.

  "I… I took a hike into the desert, and, I don't know, I think I got lost," Alex said, his explanation sounding even more lame than it had when he'd made it up. "I came to this cave. I don't even remember going in there."

  "Heatstroke," his father said in his most authoritative I-am-the-Major tone.

  "Yeah, maybe," Alex agreed, glancing at his father. "I don't think I brought enough water. Stupid, I know. And… and it took me a while to find my way back."

  "Do you want something to eat?" his mom asked. "Or do you want to take a nap? You must be exhausted."

  To Alex's horror, tears were spilling down his mother's face. In the Manes family, you were supposed to pretty much pretend that nothing got to you. The Major was the champion of that, and he expected them all to follow his example.

  His father set his bags on the table, then took Alex's mom by the shoulders and gently pulled her away from Alex.

  "Why don't you go freshen up?" he said. "I'll make scrambled eggs for all of us."

  "I… all right." His mother snagged a paper towel off the roll over the sink and swabbed at her eyes as she hurried out of the room.

  "Grab that stuff off the floor and stick some bread in the toaster, would you?" the Major asked.

  Good to see you, too, Alex thought as he crouched down and picked up the bags of groceries and the cookies. He dropped everything on the table, then started rooting around in the closest bag for bread.

  What the hell am I doing?

  Alex let his hands fall to his sides. "I know that you know where I really was," he told his father. "I know you're Clean Slate."

  The Major nodded. He stepped around Alex and pulled a carton of eggs out of the fridge, then he strode to the stove and pulled a frying pan out of the cabinet underneath it.

  "I assume your memory was cleaned before you were sent back," he said. He cracked an egg into the pan, then another.

  "You assume correctly," Alex muttered. His father didn't tell him to speak up the way he usually did.

  "I want you to get yourself checked out by a doctor. Just a precaution." His father cracked two more eggs, studied the pan, and then added three more. "Get me a fork."

  Alex handed him a wooden spoon. "You don't want to burn your fingers."

  "Thanks." The Major began to stir the eggs vigorously. "I've been thinking about the ROTC."

  I haven't been home even half an hour, and he's already ragging on me, Alex thought. He doesn't care what happened to me. All he cares about is getting the bragging rights to having four sons in the military.

  "You're old enough to take care of yourself," his father continued. He reached for the pepper with his free hand, still stirring with the other. "If you don't want to go into the program, it's your call."

  Alex held very still. He wasn't sure, but he thought the Major had just told Alex that he missed him or that he was proud of him. Or maybe even that he loved him.

  "That means a lot to me," Alex finally answered. It seemed like the right coded
response to his father's coded message.

  Alex turned around and pulled the bread out of one of the grocery bags. He took out six pieces and stuck four in the toaster.

  "Dad, before Mom comes back, I need you to tell me what the story is with Clean Slate," Alex said, staring down at the coils in the toaster as they turned from black to orange. "I mean, will you be going after my friends now?"

  "Project Clean Slate is classified to the highest level," the Major answered. "But I will tell you that your friends have nothing to fear from us."

  "And that's all you can say-even to me?" Alex challenged.

  "Yes," his father said evenly. "Hand me some plates."

  Alex pulled three plates out of the cabinet and passed them over. The toast popped up, and he added slices next to the eggs his father was dishing out. A moment later he heard his mothers heels clicking toward them. He didn't have much more time alone with his dad.

  "I just want to say thanks for trying to get me back," he blurted out.

  The Major turned to Alex and waited until Alex met his gaze. "I would do anything to keep you safe," his father answered, his voice coming out choked and harsh. "Anything. Don't you know that?"

  I do now, Alex thought.

  FIVE

  "I'm thinking I should go through a wormhole and back," Maria told Liz as they drove to the Crashdown Cafe for their afternoon shift.

  "Why?" Liz asked. She reached over and pulled the wheel a little to the right. Maria had the tendency to let the car drift into the wrong lane when she got caught up in what she was saying.

  "Because did you see how great Alex looked?" Maria asked. "Shampoo-commercial hair, soap-commercial skin. He even seemed a little more muscle-y or something. And Michael's brother? He could be on a billboard. I wouldn't mind seeing him a hundred feet tall."

  Liz made another small adjustment to the wheel. "If we ever figure out how to open a wormhole ourselves, we can start a spa. The Wormhole Ranch, specializing in space travel facials. You could give aromatherapy sessions, too."

  "Maybe," Maria said. "Although I wouldn't mind keeping the wormhole as my personal beauty secret. And yours, I guess." She snorted as she pulled into the Crashdown's parking lot. "Like you need it. Look at you. It's no wonder you ended up with the perfect boyfriend."

  My amazing boyfriend who practically goes into a coma while we're kissing, Liz thought, climbing out of the car. "Well, Michael's brother is up for grabs," she commented.

  "Yeah, if I can't have the real thing, why not take the fat-free version?" Maria joked. They headed toward the restaurant.

  "Next time I see Michael, I'm telling him you think he's fat," Liz teased. She pushed open the door, and the first few bars of the Close Encounters theme played. But the sound was almost obscured by the music coming out of her papa's office.

  "Oh no." Maria gasped. "That's The Doors, isn't it? Are we late?"

  Liz checked her watch. "Not late enough." Her papa only played The Doors when he was in a heinously bad mood. So whatever had his boxers in a bunch was big.

  Before she and Maria were halfway to the counter, her papa burst out of his office. No, not big, she realized when she saw his face. Make that enormous. Make that nuclear.

  You'd think that a guy who walked around in Grateful Dead T-shirts with his hair in a ponytail would be laid-back. But no. Liz's father had a quick temper-and he wasn't afraid to show it.

  "Your mother came in for lunch today," Mr. Ortecho told Maria as she and Liz headed toward the storage room in back that doubled as a changing room.

  "Uh, that's nice," Maria said nervously. She stopped in front of him, shifting from one foot to the other.

  Liz wondered if Maria was nervous because the throbbing vein in her papa's temple looked like it was about to erupt or if she was nervous because she'd figured out the same thing Liz had-Liz's father had found out that their weekend trip to the Carlsbad Caverns had been completely adult-free.

  Mr. Ortecho took a step toward Maria. Maria backed a step away.

  "She said it was so nice of me to take you two and your friends to the Caverns," he continued.

  I got it in one, Liz thought. What am I going to say to him? It's not like I can say that I absolutely had to go to the Caverns to try and bring Alex back home from another planet.

  "Which means you both lied to me and to her," Mr. Ortecho said.

  "We really needed to-" Maria began, taking another step back.

  "Enough," Mr. Ortecho barked. "There's no excuse for what you did, and I don't want to listen to you try to come up with one." He turned his full attention on Liz, his eyes glittering dangerously. "What I want to know is what else you've been lying about."

  Liz glanced behind her at the dining room. At least the only customer was Mr. Orndorff, and he probably had his hearing aid turned off.

  "Nothing," Liz promised him. It wasn't completely true, but it was mainly true. Yes, there had been other nights that she'd had to lie about where she'd been, like the night they drove to Albuquerque to get Isabel and Adam away from DuPris. But she'd never been doing any of the things she knew her papa was worried about her doing-like drinking, like drugs, like following in her sister Rosa's footsteps.

  "And I'm supposed to believe this? I'm supposed to believe that I just happened to find out about the one lie you've ever told me?" Her papa's brown eyes seemed to turn darker as he spoke, darker and colder.

  Liz felt something harden inside her. She straightened her spine and met her father's gaze without flinching.

  "You're supposed to trust me," she answered.

  He shot out one hand, grabbed her arm, and flipped it over. He studied it briefly, then checked the other one.

  Needle marks. That was what he was looking for.

  Liz felt like her heart had started pumping ice water instead of blood, coldness traveling down her arms and legs, up her neck and into her face.

  "I have to change." She pushed her way past her papa, Maria scurrying behind her.

  "I'm not through with you," he insisted.

  "I have to change," Liz repeated, without turning around. If she looked at him right now, she was afraid she might hate him for the rest of her life.

  "Fine. Go change," he called after her. "But from now on you're at school or here or home. No exceptions. If you need to go to the library, your mama or I will go with you."

  Liz ducked into the changing room and sank down on one of the spindly chairs. She didn't think her legs would have held her up another second. Too cold.

  Maria shut the door behind them, blocking out the curious, sympathetic looks from the other employees.

  "You okay?"

  Liz shook her head. "You know he was checking for track marks, right?"

  "Yeah," Maria said softly. "Liz, you know he's just afraid because of what-"

  "Because of what happened to Rosa. Because she overdosed and he feels like it's his fault for not seeing it coming," Liz finished in a singsong voice. "But you know what, Maria? I'm not my sister. And I've spent half my life trying to prove that to him and Mama."

  She felt a deep, shuddering sob build up inside her, but she wasn't going to let herself cry. Not now. Not where he could hear her.

  Maria sat down next to Liz and nudged her with her shoulder. "You ever think of saying to your dad what you just said to me?"

  "Are you kidding?" Liz pressed her hands between her knees, trying to get her fingers warm. It didn't help. "How could I when no one in my house ever says the name Rosa? We don't even have any pictures of her anywhere. Not in the albums, not on the fridge, not in the hall. They all disappeared the day after she died. I don't know where they are. I've looked for them a bunch of times, but-"

  A sharp knock on the door interrupted her. "Are you two working today, or should I be giving Evie and Jose overtime?" Liz's papa demanded.

  "One minute," Maria called back. She jumped up and pulled her uniform down from the little clothes rack. Then she grabbed Liz's and held it out to her.

&
nbsp; Liz just stared at it.

  Maria gave it a shake. "Please? For me?"

  "You know what I just realized?" Liz asked. "He's my father. We live in the same house. I work at his restaurant. And he doesn't even know me."

  ***

  "I want to know all about you," Michael told Trevor. It came out sounding a lot dorkier than it had in his mind. He was just stupid with happiness right now. He actually had a brother!

  "Like what?" Trevor asked. His head swiveled back and forth as they walked down Roswell's main street. He obviously wanted to see everything.

  "Like the Kindred. Is it all people who wanted the right to have more than one birthing cycle?" Michael asked.

  "Some of them are," Trevor answered. "But they aren't the only ones who have to go into hiding to live the kind of life they choose."

  "Really?" Michael had always pictured his home planet as this totally perfect place, a place where Michael would have this totally perfect life if he could just find his parents' ship and get there.

  He realized now that was totally childish. Why would earth be the only planet in the universe where things were messed up?

  "That kind of looks like your friend Alex," Trevor said, pointing at the plastic Ronald in front of McDonald's.

  Alex again. This was about the fifth time Trevor had brought up Alex today.

  Michael gave the plastic Ronald a fast look. "Maybe the hair, a little. Why else do people join the Kindred?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

  "Some because-"

  Trevor was interrupted by the toot of a car horn. Michael glanced over and saw Mrs. Pascal hanging out the window. "Michael, I want you to come over for dinner some night. We miss you. And I know Dylan would love to see you."

  "Okay, I will," he called back. And he actually meant it. Mrs. Pascal seemed much less annoying when he didn't have to live with her.

  "Who was that?" Trevor asked after Mrs. Pascal had driven on.

  "She was one of my foster moms," Michael answered.