Michael said that she wouldn’t understand, but the thing was… she did. She understood where he was coming from in wanting to know more about his past, where he came from. She felt the same way; not to the same degree, of course, but she certainly had similar questions growing up with an absentee father. She had endured the jokes about her mother’s choice of profession and home life. Given what Liz had said about where Michael lived and what he had for a father, she could only imagine what was said about him. And that was without the whole Czechoslovakian thing. Maybe that explained why Michael Guerin was the way he was.
It comforted her somewhat, when they were talking about ‘urges’ that he said “Not if you were the last woman on Earth.” At least she was safe on that front. He would not touch her. Comforting… yet somehow hurtful. It was not as if she wanted to get up to anything with him, who knows what could happen? But at the same time, why didn’t he want to touch her? Was there something wrong with her? Moot point, given that she would never go there (even if he was good looking… don’t go there, Maria DeLuca), but still…
The conversation was getting a little too close for comfort; Maria decided to feign being tired and go to bed. Things would look up in the morning. They were bound to. After telling the tall alien that she would not share the bed with him if he were the “last alien on Earth” (that felt good) and giving him a pillow (thankful he did not push the bed thing), she settled down for some sleep. Only sleep would not come.
After tossing and turning for a few minutes, she decided to review Michael’s answers and see if she could make sense of them. Like she told him, she was not going to get an F on the project and it might be enough to put her to sleep. Not that there was a whole hell of a lot to review. Favourite ice cream flavour—pistachio (figured he’d go for the nutty); favourite TV show—Win Ben Stein’s Money (typical); favourite book… not much to write home about… or for History Class for that matter. Maybe she could come up with answers for the other questions. Who is Michael’s favourite relative?... Dumb question, Michael did not have any that he knew of. Skip the best thing question; if there was an answer to that she would never be able to come up with it on her own. And Michael probably had never been in love, either. Who did Michael envy? Max Evans, according to Liz (she so did not want to go there). What was Michael afraid of?
That was the $64,000 question. The last few weeks had given Maria a very good insight into what Michael, Max, and Isabel would be afraid of. Government conspiracies. Abduction, tests… their whole lives could get turned right around. Maria was dead scared of Valenti getting too close, and she was just a bystander!
“Hey, Maria,” came a whisper from the floor at the side of the bed.
She tried to ignore him, but he was persistent. “What?”
“I can’t get to sleep. Can you?”
“Not when you keep talking to me.”
“Well, since we can’t sleep, why don’t you answer some of those questions for me?”
“I told you, I’m tired.”
“You’re not sleeping,” he pointed out.
Maria did not have an answer for that beyond the obvious and she just could not be bothered arguing the point. “Fine! What did you want to know?”
“What’s your favourite ice cream flavour?”
“Chocolate Fudge.” There came a noise like a snort. “What?”
“Nothing. What’s your favourite TV show?”
“Rosie’s fun to watch.” There was definitely a snort this time, but she ignored it.
“Okay, what’s your favourite book?”
“I used to love The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, no comments from you!”
“I wasn’t gonna say anything! I was never interested in reading it, but I did see it on TV with Max and Isabel. Figures you’d like it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Maria sat up to glare over the edge of the bed.
“Don’t get excited. From what you told me earlier, I just figured you liked fantasy, is all.”
“Oh. Dreaming of my father coming for us in a limo is a bit different from Narnia. Guess I don’t really ask what you’re afraid of.”
“Guess you don’t,” Michael gave a humourless chuckle. “What is it that you’re afraid of?”
“Right now? Sheriff Valenti finding out I know the truth about you guys and arresting me for obstruction of justice.”
Another snort. “Obstruction of justice?”
“Or something like that,” she paused. “Not that you can really write that down, though.”
“No, not really.”
Silence fell between them, and Maria was almost asleep before a thought occurred to her. “Hey Michael, how are you gonna remember all this if you don’t write it down?” Silence greeted her, followed by a soft snore. “Great, he would go to sleep on me,” she griped, forgetting that she had almost been asleep herself.
She was about to close her eyes when she heard footsteps on the walk outside. Forgetting that they were in a motel and it was normal for people to come and go at odd hours, she immediately began thinking the worst—that someone was following them. When the door opened she was sure of it. Leaning over to shake Michael awake, she slipped off the edge of the bed and on top of the guy.
Right in time for Liz, Max, and Isabel to walk in. flushing, Maria got of him in a hurry. She tried to explain that it wasn’t what it looked like, but Michael was no help in that area. “Honey, we don’t have to lie” her foot! Slapping was too good for him. Luckily no one believed him. Right when you thought you were getting to know someone…
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