by Melinda Metz
One of the things he wasn't telling was that there was no possible way he was going into the military. He used to hope one of his older brothers would be a trailblazer for him and soften the old man up toward the idea of having a civilian for a son. But his two oldest brothers had joined the air force, just like Dad. And Jesse, his last hope, had just signed up with the marines. The Major wasn't too happy about having a squid in the family, but he had finally switched over from shouting to muttering.
"How about this one?" Liz held up a silky dark blue dress with thin little straps. It looked sort of like a nightgown or something. "That's a definite ten on the man-o-meter," Alex said.
"Whatever this man-o-meter is, don't show it to me," Maria mumbled.
Alex ignored her. He was imagining that silky stuff under his fingers. The material was so thin, he'd be able to feel the warmth of Isabel's skin through the cloth. Isabel. Oh, man. He was doing it again. He had given himself strict orders not to think about Isabel, but she kept popping into his head.
Forget about her, he told himself. Remember what she called you-a pathetic wanna-be. She didn't even bother to wait for you to get all the way out of the gym before she started making fun of you with Stacey.
But there was something about Isabel, something about the way she looked at him while they were talking.… There was an attraction between them, a connection. Alex couldn't believe she was quite as cold as she seemed. If they could just get away from her little cheerleader clique and all their crap, he had a feeling something could develop between them.
"So are you going to try it on?" Maria asked Liz.
Liz checked the price tag and grimaced. She showed it to Maria. "I think we're in the wrong store."
"Let's try the Clothes Barn," Maria suggested.
Alex led the way out of the store. He took a deep breath of the nonperfumed air. The smells of the mall's food court filled his nose-chocolate cookies mixing with chow mein, tacos, and fries. Much better.
"You know, we've been sort of selfish," Maria said to Liz. "Alex is going to the dance, too. He might need us to help him with a little shopping. I'm seeing a collarless shirt and-"
"Don't even think about it," Alex warned them. "I'm not a Just My Size Ken doll."
"Alex, you're seventeen years old. It's time to explore fabrics beyond flannel and denim," Liz put in.
"I wear other stuff. I wear cotton. And… what sweatpants are made of-I wear that."
Maria grabbed him by the arm and started dragging him down the walkway. "Macy's is right over there, just waiting for you."
Alex spotted Michael Guerin and Max Evans heading toward them. "Guys!" he yelled in relief. "Hey, guys, you have to help me." He broke away from Maria and hurried over to them. "The makeover mafia has me in their clutches."
"They do look pretty dangerous," Michael said as Liz and Maria joined the group.
"They're trying to use force to make me stop wearing flannel," Alex complained.
He expected Maria to jump in and try to get Max and Michael on her side. But she'd suddenly gotten quiet. Liz, too. What was up with them? They were never quiet.
"Don't let them, man," Michael answered. "If they can't accept you as you are, just walk away. Right, Max?"
"Every American has the right to wear flannel," Max answered. He leaned over the railing and stared into the fountain in the lower level. It was obvious he didn't really feel like talking.
Alex didn't know Max that well, but he'd always seemed like a cool guy. Alex wouldn't mind asking him a couple of questions about Isabel, something that would help him figure her out.
Maybe her brother would know which Isabel was real-the Isabel who had flirted with Alex and acted like she was totally enjoying herself? Or the Isabel who had cut him down behind his back?
"What is it with chicks?" Michael asked. "They can have a guy who's crazy about them, but that's not good enough. They have to get in there and start changing things. Guys don't do that. Max, you like Liz just the way she is, right?"
There was a strange little silence.
Liz shot Michael a look that said "back off" loud and clear. Alex frowned. What was going on with everyone? Liz wasn't usually so touchy.
"I mean, you'd never tell her what to wear," Michael amended, avoiding Liz's eyes.
"Liz looks good in everything," Max answered. He pushed himself away from the rail and turned back to face the group. "You even looked cute in that dress you hated, the goofy one with the cupcakes on it."
"You remember that?" Liz cried. "I hated that dress so much, but my abuelita gave it to me, so my parents were always making me wear it."
"I don't remember it. What grade was that?" Maria asked.
Liz thought about it a second. "Kindergarten. I remember Ms. Gliden let me wear one of the finger-painting smocks when I had to wear the dress to school. She was so nice. She…" Liz's voice trailed off.
Maria was frowning. "But Max wasn't in your kindergarten class, was he?" she asked.
Liz turned to Max. "I have to talk to you alone. Right now." She strode away from the group. Max hesitated a moment, then followed her.
Another strange little silence. Maria had gone pale.
"All righty, then," Alex muttered.
"I have to buy some nail polish," Maria blurted. "I'll meet you at the food court." She rushed toward the escalator.
Alex looked at Michael and shrugged. "You want to get some food?" he asked.
"I can always eat," Michael answered.
Liz and Maria must have popped a few psycho pills when I wasn't looking, Alex thought as he and Michael headed down the walkway. I hope they wear off fast.
***
"Don't even think about it," Isabel snarled at the perfume sample guy before he could spray her. She usually avoided this entrance to Macy's. It was like trying to maneuver through a minefield of perfume bombs. The smell of all the scents-flowery, spicy, fruity, powdery-made her stomach turn over.
"Hey, he was kind of a cutie," Tish protested.
Isabel glanced over her shoulder. "He's too bulky and bulgy. Look at those veins popping out on his neck."
"I thought you loved that muscle beach look." Tish held her wrist out to a pale woman in a white smock, who delicately spritzed her with a floral scent.
"I must be maturing. Guys like that seem a little too obvious to me now," Isabel said. "Besides, who wants a guy who spends more hours in the gym than he does with you?"
Yeah, that's it, Isabel thought. It didn't have anything to do with the memory of the way Alex's lean body felt pressed up against hers in their dream dance.
"I like it," Tish said. "I still say he's cute."
"You think everyone is cute," Isabel shot back.
"Pretty much everyone has something cute about them, even if it's just one little thing," Tish insisted. "Like that guy by the glove counter. Bad clothes, bad hair, bad skin-"
"Bad personal hygiene," Isabel cut in.
"But look at his mouth." Tish grabbed Isabel's chin and turned her head toward the guy. "Look at those big, cushy lips. Yum."
"Okay, what about him?" Isabel jerked her head toward a pudgy guy who would probably be calling the Hair Club for Men about a year after grad.
"How can you even ask?" Tish exclaimed. "Look at his butt. Pure Charmin. Don't you just want to squeeze it?"
"Uh, not really," Isabel answered. She scanned the crowd, then smiled. "Okay, I've got a tough one for you-over there by the Lancome counter."
Tish glanced over and started making gagging noises. "It's the Anticute. Let's get out of here. We see Stacey way too much at school."
"I want to talk to her," Isabel said.
"Is-a-bel." Tish said her name in a long whine.
"Come on." Isabel sauntered toward Stacey. She didn't bother to check and see if Tish was following her. Tish always followed Isabel.
"Hey, Stacey, looking for a lipstick to go with your lavender dress?" Isabel asked.
Stacey whirled toward them.
"I had this horrible dream, and I kept scratching myself in my sleep," Stacey admitted. She ran her fingers over one of the long red scratches covering her face.
I don't think I've ever seen Stacey when she's not bouncing or giggling or something, Isabel thought. Stacey was nauseatingly, unrelentingly bubbly. Even in classes she was constantly doodling little hearts, stars, and rainbows on the cover of her notebook.
"That's terrible. Do they hurt?" Tish asked.
Oh, please, Isabel thought. If Tish found a hurt rattlesnake on the sidewalk, she'd probably take it home, nurse it back to health, tie a bow around its neck, and then be surprised when it bit her. She should go out with Max. They'd make a perfect couple.
"They don't really hurt, but they look so gross. I'm trying to find something to cover them up." Stacey studied the foundations and powders in the case in front of her.
"What was your dream about, anyway?" Tish said.
"Oh, it was gross!" Stacey rubbed her face with both hands. "There were all these bugs crawling on me. I could feel all their little legs. I kept scratching and scratching, but I couldn't get them off."
Isabel gave a loud gasp. She opened her eyes wide. "This is so weird. I had exactly the same dream last night!"
***
"What's up?" Max asked as he trotted after Liz.
Liz didn't answer. She turned down a short hallway with a pay phone, a drinking fountain, and one bench. No one would bother them here.
She spun around and glared at Max. "How did you know about my cupcake dress?" she demanded. "Can you read minds? Is that one of your powers? If it is, you have got to find a way to turn it off because it's an incredible invasion of privacy."
Liz didn't even want to think about what Max could have seen in her head. All the embarrassing little things she'd never told anyone, not even Maria. The silly daydreams she let herself slide into when one of her teachers got so boring, she wanted to scream. The mean little thoughts she had about people sometimes.
But most of all she was afraid that Max had seen all the horrible things she'd thought when he told her he was an alien. Liz was ashamed of the mix of revulsion and fear that flooded her in that moment. If she'd felt those kinds of emotions directed at her, she'd be devastated.
"I can't read minds. At least not usually," Max told her. "But when I heal someone, I make a connection with them. I get this rush of images, so fast I can hardly take them all in. And somehow I just know things. Not thoughts, exactly. But like that dress-an image of it flashed into my mind, and I knew how you felt about it."
Liz folded her arms over her chest. "What else did you see besides the dress?"
"Um… I saw a stuffed dog with a chewed-up ear," Max said.
"Oh, Mr. Beans. He lives on my bed." Liz started to feel a little better. If Mr. Beans and the cupcake dress were the worst things Max saw, that wasn't so bad.
"Liz Ortecho sleeping with a stuffed animal. That's hard to picture." Max laughed. "You're always so intense and focused."
"I don't actually sleep with him," Liz corrected. "At night I put him on my dresser."
Max raised his eyebrows. "Oh, really?" he teased.
"Okay, every once in a while, like when I'm sick or something, I still sleep with him," Liz admitted, blushing. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"
"Lucky guess. You sounded just a little defensive when you said you put him on your dresser," Max explained. "It really bothers you that I got images from your mind, doesn't it?"
Liz looked down at her boots. Even though Max had only seen stupid little things from her childhood, it did bother her. What if he were just being polite, telling her the stuff that wasn't important? What if he really had seen everything, like how angry she felt at her sister for dying? He would think she was a horrible person-and she couldn't bear that.
Max wouldn't lie to me, she told herself. If he says he only saw the ugly cupcake dress, then he means it.
"Maybe I overreacted," Liz said slowly. "It's not like you were intentionally spying on me. But, well, how would you feel if I knew all your secrets?"
Max stared at her as if she were an idiot. And suddenly Liz felt her face flush. How could she have said that? She did know Max's biggest secret, something much more intimate and personal than anything he knew about her.
Max sat down on the little bench. He patted the spot next to him. "Come on, I want to try something."
"O-kaay." Liz wished that hadn't come out sounding so apprehensive. Why couldn't she remember how to act around Max anymore?
She sat next to him. Her shoulder brushed against his. She wanted to move back, but she held herself perfectly still. If she kept jumping away from him, Max might think she was afraid of him or something.
And I'm not, she thought. Not much.
She wanted to feel completely comfortable around Max, the way she used to. But it was like there was a loop in her head playing the words he's an alien, he's an alien over and over.
"I've never tried this before, but I thought maybe I could make the connection go the other way," Max told her. "So that you could invade my privacy and get some images from me."
Liz blinked in surprise. What would it be like to see into Max's thoughts? I'd probably be the first human to ever see into the mind of an alien, she thought. The scientist in her was totally excited by the opportunity. But it wouldn't be fair to Max.
"You don't have to do that, Max," Liz said softly. "I was being a jerk about the whole thing. You saved my life-I should be down on my knees thanking you, no matter what your method was."
"No, we have to try this," Max insisted. "Think of it as an experiment. Or as a free movie-the Max Evans Show."
He sounded like a little kid trying to convince his babysitter to let him stay up until eleven. He's trying so hard to make me feel okay about what's happened, Liz thought. Why can't I do that for him?
"I have to touch you, okay?" Max asked. "That's how I make the connection."
If he can heal with a touch, can he kill with a touch? The question leaped into Liz's mind. Without thinking, she backed away from Max on the bench.
Instantly his blue eyes grew darker, as if a thick black curtain had fallen over his emotions.
"Never mind," he said quickly. "It was a stupid idea. Why would you want to be connected to me?"
Max started to stand up, but Liz grabbed his arm. She couldn't let him feel this way, feel as if she were disgusted by him.
"I want to do it. Really," Liz told him.
Max sat back down, smiling. He reached out and tucked her hair behind her ears, then gently cupped her face with his hands. Liz felt a shiver rush through her body. And it didn't feel quite like a frightened shiver.
Max leaned close, so his face was inches from her own. His gaze drifted to her lips, and for one long, shocking moment she thought he was going to kiss her. Instead he began to speak, his voice low and soothing. "Now take deep breaths, and try to let your mind blank out."
Her heart was beating so hard, she could hardly breathe at all. Liz concentrated on pulling in a long, deep breath, then she let it out.
Max matched each of his breaths to hers. She could feel the warm puffs of air on her face each time he exhaled, and the smell of his wintergreen Life Saver filled her nose.
She'd never seen such intense blue as his eyes. It was almost like looking through a deep, deep pool.…
Liz realized she was leaning toward him, wanting to be closer, wanting to see through those amazing eyes.…
She closed her eyes, but she could still feel his eyes on hers. She tried to focus all her attention on her breathing. If thoughts began to intrude, she imagined them drifting away, soundless and weightless.
She heard her heartbeat slow as her relaxation grew deeper and deeper. Slowly she became aware of a second heartbeat. Max's heartbeat. It was like they shared one body now.
An image appeared against the dark screen of her ey
elids. A child with bright eyes ripping free of something that looked like a cocoon. Another image quickly replaced the first. A Mr. Wizard junior chemistry set. The images came faster and faster. A sky filled with acid green clouds. A bowl with two turtles sunning themselves. A pair of almond-shaped eyes without whites or irises, just pure black.
Then Liz in the elementary school library, her dark brown braids touching the page of her book. Liz, a little older, swinging at a baseball. Liz standing proudly in front of her ninth-grade science fair project. Liz dressed up for the junior prom. Liz smiling, frowning, giggling, crying. Liz lying on the floor of the cafe. Liz staring at Max with an expression of horror on her face.
Liz opened her eyes and found her gaze locked with Max's. She reached up and slid his hands away from her face. She pressed her fingers together to keep them from trembling.
"Did it work?" he asked. "Did you see anything?"
Liz nodded, not trusting her voice. She'd seen everything. She knew everything.
Max was in love with her. He had always been in love with her.
*** 8 ***
Liz read the question for the third time. "What were the benefits of the gold standard?"
I did study for this test, she thought. I looked at my notes and reread the key parts of the chapters. So why do I have no memory of what the gold standard even is?
Liz skipped down to the multiple-choice section and sighed. A, B, C, and D all sounded like reasonable choices. But even E, none of the above, was a possibility.
Where was her head? Yeah, like I haven't had any distractions lately, she thought. I only almost died. And then found out a guy I've known half my life is an alien. And then found out that this alien guy loves me.
Max Evans loved her. Liz was still trying to wrap her mind around that.
