CATEGORY: Haven't decided yet!
RATING: These parts PG-13, edging into R for language. I don't know yet where this story will take me, so I'll rate each part accordingly.
SUMMARY: At Max's request, Liz decides to get to know Isabel better.
DISCLAIMER: Metz, Katims, WB. Don't own 'em, sooooo wish I did!
Journal entry 1. March 2, 2001.
I'm Liz Parker, and I have a confession to make. I haven't written a single journal entry in over a year. This might not seem particularly strange to most people, but for me it's very unusual. You see, I've always thought that it's important to keep a record of your life. Everyday events might seem insignificant while you're living them, but they will eventually have more meaning to you later on. I received my first journal on my seventh birthday and just fell in love with it. I wrote in it every day, often more than once a day, until my sixteenth year. That's eleven years of journal writing. And why did I stop? Simple. Max Evans.
Max Evans risked everything one day to save my life. Literally everything. I found out that he, along with his sister and his best friend, was – is – an alien. That's right, a genuine extra- terrestrial here in Roswell. Suddenly, my journal entries were more than just notes for my future self to read… they were evidence. Evidence that aliens do exist, that they walk among us, and it became a threat to their lives. What other choice did I really have? I promised myself that I would never write in a journal again, and I followed my own order, regardless of how difficult it was. Now, more than a year after I made that promise, I'm breaking it… and for once, it has nothing to do with Max Evans.
It has everything to do with his sister: Isabel Evans.
Now, we're a pretty close-knit group, this "alien club" of ours. Maria, Alex and I have been best friends forever, as have Max, Michael, and Isabel. And now there's Tess, the remaining alien that rounds out the fourth pod. Also there's the Valentis – both Sheriff and his son, my ex-boyfriend, Kyle.
We mostly trust each other. Mostly. We really have no other option. When our lives are in danger day after day because of the secrets we share… it breeds trust, however reluctantly.
But do we know each other? Not really. I mean, Max, Kyle, Maria, and Alex, I can honestly say that I know them. But Isabel, Michael, Tess… they remain mostly closed to me, though we've been breaking more ground recently. Tess is remarkably easy to know. She hides nothing and apologizes for nothing. Anything you want to know about Tess is all right there on the table; the hard part is asking her. Believe me, she'll make you ask. Maria says the same about Michael… granted, we've never really talked, Michael and I, but Maria insists that any impression I get from him is likely to be true.
Isabel alone remains a complete mystery.
And that is why I'm writing in a journal again, because I've set out on kind of a mission… to know and understand Isabel Evans. I can't do it without this journal… and even with it, I've got a huge, perhaps impossible, task ahead of me.
It all started today at lunch… with Max of course. Okay, so I lied. It does have something to do with Max Evans. But only a little!
"So, you know, I was thinking that we could see about renting it. I mean, I know it's Friday and all but there's a chance… Max?" Liz peered at her lunchtime companion with concern. She'd been rattling off Friday night ideas for the last fifteen minutes, and all he'd done was nod and stare off into the distance. "Max? You okay?"
"Oh. Sorry, Liz, I uh… I was just thinking. What were you saying?" he replied, fixing her with an apologetic look. Liz smiled sadly.
"Nothing much. Movie renting strategy. What were you thinking about?" she asked carefully, picking studiously at her potato chips and glancing up at Max's worried expression through her eyelashes.
"Just… Isabel," he finished without explanation, and Liz raised her eyebrows slightly.
"Isabel? Why? I mean, she's okay, right?" she asked guardedly. Max looked, tortured, at the lunch in front of him.
"I don't know. I wouldn't know, she doesn't talk to me anymore," he said in a low voice, refusing to look at her. Liz chewed on her lower lip as she scanned the lawn of the school, seeking out the tall blonde. She watched Isabel for a long moment but saw nothing different than she usually did. Isabel sat with her school friends, the friends of hers who wouldn't stop to give nerdy Liz Parker the time of day. Liz felt a familiar stab of jealousy for the blonde hybrid, a pang that diminished with each passing day that she knew them, but still there nonetheless. From her vantage point, Liz could see the dozens of boys who checked her out and the dozens of girls who stared at her with unvarnished envy. She watched as Isabel casually ignored them all with a careless toss of her gleaming locks.
"Well… I mean, um, that seems pretty normal to me. I mean, for Isabel," Liz ventured, letting her eyes roam back to Max, who was now staring at her incredulously. Well, as incredulously as Max Evans could look.
"Are you kidding?" he queried, and Liz raised her eyebrows. Max looked taken aback for a moment. Liz was most definitely not kidding. "Isabel tells me everything, whether I want to know it or not. Or, she used to."
"She told you everything?" Liz repeated dubiously, stealing another glance at the subject of their conversation. Isabel had a coldly amused look on her face and most of the people around her were laughing. From the look of things, it was Terri Helser who had sustained the burn, the way she was trying to look amused and nonplussed and failing miserably. "I don't know, I always thought she was kinda…"
"A bitch?" Liz whipped her head around so hard that her hair smacked her in the face. Max's expression hadn't changed, and Liz wondered if she had imagined that suggestion coming from his mouth. "It's okay, everyone thinks so. Nobody actually has the guts to say it to her face, but it's what people think."
"Max, I… I mean, I don't, I would never have-"
"Said that to me?" Max cut off her spluttering reply. Liz's cheeks burned, and she wasn't even sure why. She really hadn't been thinking anything of the sort about Isabel. What she wanted to say was that Isabel had always seemed kinda… private. Liz had a fleeting feeling of middle-school age girls whispering over locker room benches and getting caught talking about someone by that someone's best friend. It pissed her off a little.
"No, I wouldn't have thought that. I don't think Isabel's a bitch, Max, why would you say that?" she asked, anger tingeing her voice. Max looked vaguely surprised, and then his features softened and he placed his hand over hers.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to make assumptions about what you think. It just… it bothers me, a lot, that she's not talking to me. I was serious when I said she used to tell me everything, even the stuff that you pray you never find out about your siblings." Max cracked a small smile, and Liz couldn't help returning it. "I know what everyone else seems to think about her… and that bothers me sometimes, too."
"I understand," Liz offered softly, looking at their still-touching hands. Noticing the shift in her attention, Max followed her gaze, his own cheeks heating up a little when he saw what she did.
"Sorry," he said again, gently detaching his hand from hers. Liz felt an inexplicable sense of loss and loneliness when Max did that, and she looked back over at Isabel, jumping a little in surprise when she did. Isabel still sat, tall and regal, at the center of the crowd of popular kids, but the look on her face… for one instant, Isabel's expression perfectly matched the emotions coursing through Liz Parker. Isabel seemed to be at the slow-motion center of a fast- moving storm. The girls primped and flounced and giggled, their manicured hands flying and fluttering. The boys laughed and clowned, giving high-fives and trying to impress the girls. And Isabel gazed off at some distant point on the horizon, a strangely sad and lost look painting her face. Liz sat, dumbfounded, staring, and knew with certainty that she understood Isabel Evans, if only for that moment. Liz and Isabel jumped in tandem as Doug Beder popped a paper lunch bag that he had blown up with a fairly loud bang. Liz took in Isabel's momentary expression of terror as Max's voice filtered into her consciousness again.
"… to her? I know you're not close, but you could give it a shot. Liz? Liz?" The fear had bled out of Isabel's face, and she had effortlessly dropped her high-school prom-queen look in place again. Liz shook her head slightly, turning back to Max.
"I'm sorry, Max, I… I must have just spaced out on you for a second." Max immediately looked concerned, tilting his head to the side a little.
"You okay?" Liz nodded vigorously to reassure him.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm… I'm fine. Sorry, I… what were you saying?" She turned her best 'continue with the story, I'm interested' look on Max, and after another second of inspection, he nodded.
"I was just thinking… Isabel's never really been close to anyone but me and Michael, not even Tess. I thought…" he trailed off, looking at Liz in a cautious, guarded way that made her want to say no before the words even left his mouth.
"What?"
"I thought maybe… you could try to talk to her. Sometimes… I don't know, I thought maybe it'd be easier for her to… you know, talk to another girl." It took a good minute for the words to sink in. Liz laughed shortly, eyeing Max warily.
"Um, Max… I, I don't think that would be such a good idea, I mean, did you ever think… I mean, I don't even know… what about Michael?" she finished with a note of desperation. Max was looking at her with such hope in his eyes…
"Michael? Because we both know what a master of communication Michael is," Max said jokingly, and Liz sighed.
"Max, I just-"
"Liz, I know that you and Isabel aren't close. At all. I know that you have very little in common as people. I know that if it weren't for our secret, you and Isabel would never, ever speak to each other. But, you do. I mean, you know, about us. That alone is going to make is so much easier for her. And you… you always know a good thing to say. I know you and Isabel don't like hanging out or anything, but I know you care about her." Liz groaned internally. Everything Max was saying was pretty much true. Except maybe for the part about her knowing what to say.
"Max…"
"Please, Liz? I don't expect… if Isabel doesn't want to talk to you, I won't be upset. I… probably won't even be surprised. But could you try?" Liz sighed. There it was, that look again. The one she just couldn't say no to. He trusted her so much; he had so much faith in her. He really thought that this was a good idea. Just say no, Lizzie, say no right now and spare yourself the pain…
"Okay."
"Okay?" A rare, genuine smile crossed Max's face, and Liz thought that that smile alone justified the conversation she would have to endure later on.
"Yes, okay, I'll do it. I'll talk to her," Liz agreed, smiling a little in spite of herself.
"Talk to who?" Liz started; pressing a hand to her jump-started heart as it slammed in her chest. Max's smile faltered a little as Michael made himself comfortable next to Liz and across from Max.
"Hey, Michael." Max said carefully, but with more warmth than Liz thought she'd heard in his tone towards the other boy in a long time.
"Good afternoon, Liz," Michael said, the barest hints of condescension evident in his voice. Liz shifted slightly in her seat.
"Hi, Michael," she answered steadily, but without much interest. Michael really knew how to make her feel uncomfortable, but that feeling was getting much easier to overcome lately. She spent so much time around him at work recently that the attitude that used to be able to make her blush and stammer apologies in seconds now made her roll her eyes and ignore him.
"I repeat," Michael continued, swiping Max's apple with a wink at his friend, "talk to who?"
"Whom," Liz corrected under her breath.
"Huh?" Michael retorted intelligently from around a mouthful of fruit.
"It's 'talk to whom', Michael," Max elaborated with a mixture of humor and exasperation, and let his hand brush Liz's knee under the table. Liz smiled at Max's way of communicating to her without words that they were on the same page. Michael scowled at both of them.
"Whatever. Are you going to answer the question, or should I just leave?" he bit back acerbically.
"Oh, would you really?" Liz teased with mock hope in her voice, and Michael raised one eyebrow at her with disinterest.
"Funny, Parker."
"Isabel." Michael froze mid-bite, and Liz tried to conceal her surprise. She didn't think Max was going to actually tell Michael.
"Isabel what?" Michael asked slowly, and Max sighed.
"Isabel not talking to me. Or you." Liz thought it had to be her imagination, but she could have sworn that Michael looked hurt for a second when Max said that.
"So? That's her choice," Michael answered after a moment of thought, and finished chewing and swallowing the mouthful of apple.
"I don't think it is, not entirely. I think she thinks she can't talk to us for some reason," Max explained, and that fractional second of a hurt look flitted across Michael's features again.
"Isabel can tell us anything," Michael answered, as if that explained it all.
"Well, I thought… Isabel's been dealing with a lot lately, she might want… someone else to talk to." Michael looked blankly at first Max, then Liz, then Max again.
"You're not thinking…"
"I thought maybe Liz could try to talk to her. I don't know, Michael, she won't talk to us. Whatever we're not, Liz is. Liz is a girl, Liz is completely human. Maybe Isabel needs that," Max explained patiently, despite the growing anger on Michael's face. Michael tossed the half-eaten apple behind him carelessly and leaned over the table aggressively.
"How do you know what Isabel needs? You don't know. Isabel needs us, Maxwell, and that's it. She'll come to us when she's ready," he fairly growled.
"I don't think so, Michael, not this time," Max rebutted, and Michael turned wide eyes on him.
"What, you don't really think she'll talk to Little Lizzie Parker here, do you?"
"Hey!" Liz interjected, sort of half-heartedly. Nothing could make her feel more out of place than being present at one of Max and Michael's famous arguments.
"Watch what you're saying," Max said in a dangerously low voice, and Michael turned furious eyes on Liz.
"I hope you know what you're getting into," he said matter-of-factly, despite the rage evident on his face.
"Michael!" Max said warningly again. Michael, of course, ignored him.
"You don't know the first thing about Isabel." He stalked off, leaving Max calling after him angrily.
"Max… Max, let it go," Liz pleaded softly, pulling gently on his arm until he sat down again. She hazarded another glance over at Isabel, who had apparently heard the commotion and was looking over with an ominous look of worry and anger. She caught Liz's eye and her expression became impassive again as she turned her attention back to her friends.
"I don't understand him, I thought we'd talked through this," Max said, clearly still upset.
"You mean back in Las Vegas?" Max nodded.
"You know, don't worry about Michael, he's just… would you still talk to Isabel?" Liz paused for a moment, thinking hard. When Max first asked her to talk to his sister, she thought it was kind of funny… now she really had to think about it. Michael was right, she didn't know Isabel. But remembering that look, the one that had matched her insides so perfectly… Liz didn't know if she could not talk to her. When Liz shot a look over at the lunch table again, Isabel was gone.
"Yeah. Yes, I'll talk to her."
end part 1