The Rebel

TWO

Liz and Max sat on the sofa in the Evanses' living room. Key word: sat. Liz tried to remember if there'd ever been a time where they'd been alone in his house and just… sat.

Okay, Max wasn't a guy who attacked one second after they found a semiprivate place. But when Liz was alone with Max, the air just got sort of charged. Liz loved that pre-make-out time, where she became more and more aware of everything. The heat that she could feel coming off Max's body. The tickle of her long hair against her back. The sound of Max's breathing getting just subtly faster. The feeling of her own breath easing in and out of her lungs. It felt almost like they were touching each other even before they started touching.

But now… they were definitely just sitting. The air didn't feel charged. It smelled stale and felt almost too thick and heavy to breathe.

I'm going to suffocate if I stay in here too long, Liz thought wildly. Then she told herself she was being idiotic. The air had just as much oxygen as it always did.

Liz shot a glance at Max. She wondered if he was aware that she was in the room with him. Or if he was aware that he was in the room. She doubted it. He had that look he always got when he was in deep communion with the consciousness. Liz hated that look-all vacant and deanimated. It was like Max wasn't Max anymore. The thing sitting next to her was shaped like Max, but it was totally lifeless.

I could slide my hand up his thigh right now, and he probably wouldn't even twitch, Liz thought.

And the worst part was that Max liked connecting to the consciousness. He liked being part of something so immense. He didn't seem to realize that submerging himself in the ocean of beings meant being away from her. Or if he did realize it, he didn't care.

Liz tucked one leg under herself. Then she twisted around and sat cross-legged. She just couldn't get comfortable. She tried a pillow behind her back. Didn't help. She tossed the pillow over onto the armchair.

I have to get out of here, she thought. If I stay here another minute, I'm going to start screaming and never stop.

"Max," Liz said loudly. "Want to head over to the Y? We can still catch part of Kevin's game."

He didn't answer. She leaned over, braced her forefinger against her thumb, then flicked him on the head. He blinked twice.

"The creature stirs," Liz muttered.

"Sorry. Did you say something?" Max asked. He rubbed his temple, right over the place she'd just flicked. Poor baby, Liz thought. Even in her head it came out sounding sarcastic.

"I asked if you wanted to swing by the Y, hang out with Maria and Michael," she said.

"Actually, I'm not feeling that great," Max admitted. "I don't know what's going on in the consciousness, but it's something mega. I keep getting hit with all this fear and anger and, I don't know, sadness, I guess."

"Is it about Alex?" Liz demanded.

"It's something new. I know that. Maybe it could be connected to Alex, but I don't think so." Max shook his head, the movement making him wince.

Liz felt a lance of guilt stab into her. She'd been so caught up in whining to herself about how Max wasn't paying any attention to her that she hadn't noticed what was going on with him. Now that she was really looking at him, she could see the signs she should have caught before-the purple smudges under his eyes, the way the skin of his forehead appeared somehow tight, the tense muscles in his neck.

"Want me to rub your shoulders?" Liz offered. "My papa always does that for Mama when she gets all stressed, trying to fill too many cake orders in one day."

"Um, actually, I think if you touch me, it's only going to make it worse," Max said. He gave her an apologetic smile. "I feel like even a feather brushing against me would be killer right now."

Liz nodded. "How about some ice water? Or could I get you a pillow or something?"

"You know what?" Max said. "Why don't you head out? I think I'm just going to try and sit very still until this goes away."

Going out into the fresh air sounded wonderful. Going over to the Y and hanging out with some people who might actually laugh and talk and everything sounded even better. But she wasn't sure Max should be alone.

"I could sit with you," Liz volunteered. "That way if you need anything-"

"No, it's okay," he said, cutting her off. "I don't want you to waste the rest of the day babysitting me."

He meant it. She could see that. He wasn't just trying to be nice.

"Okay, well… I'll see you later, then." Liz stood up slowly so she wouldn't jar him. She thought about leaning over to kiss him good-bye, but it would probably just hurt him.

"Bye," Max said.

Liz felt a little shiver skitter through her when she realized that even though he was talking to her, he was already halfway back into the deep connection. Without another word, she turned around and rushed out of the house, glad to step into the sunshine.

As she headed to the bus stop, she broke into a run. She didn't plan to, but it just felt right. Suddenly she had to get away from Max's house as fast as possible. Her dark hair streamed behind her as she pushed herself faster and faster, pulling in breath after breath of the cool air.

When she reached the stop, the bus was just pulling up. The door wheezed open, and Liz occupied herself digging out the right change and depositing it. Then she took a seat and stared out the window. As the bus rolled down the street, she forced herself to look at each building, each little store in each little strip mall. She just wanted to blank out for a while. Not think. About anything.

When the bus got close to the Crashdown Cafe, her father's restaurant, she reached out and rang the buzzer. She'd been planning to hook up with Michael and Maria, but-

But the Crashdown stop is the same stop as the UFO museum, and you want to see Adam, a knowing little voice inside her head informed her.

I don't want to see Adam, Liz told herself. But when she climbed off the bus, her feet turned toward the museum.

Okay, well, it's not like I want to see him, she amended. But I need to tell him that Kyle Valenti is going all stalker, trying to find out what happened to his father.

Oh yeah, right, the little voice retorted. Why does Adam need to know that? Kyle Valenti has no idea Adam even exists. And besides, Michael and Adam are roommates. Michael will tell Adam everything he needs to know.

"I'm not going to be one of those people who has these conversations with herself," Liz muttered, glad no one was on the sidewalk to hear her.

Fine, I'll be quiet, the little voice answered. As soon as you admit you want to see Adam. Can't wait to see him. Because when Adam looks at you, it's like you're the most beautiful, wonderful person he's ever seen.

It's just the way Max used to look at you.

"Honey, I'm home," Michael yelled as he unlocked the apartment door.

"Okay, honey, I'm in the kitchen," Adam called back. There wasn't a trace of sarcasm in his voice. That was what happened when you'd lived most of your life underground with only picture books from Dad Valenti to read and no TV or Internet access. You took everything way too friggin' literally.

"Uh, Adam, I was just joking around when I called you honey, okay?" he explained as he entered the kitchen and took a seat at the table. "Don't get the idea that that's the way guys usually, you know, address each other or anything."

"How long is it going to take me to get all this stuff?" Adam burst out. "I spend all day studying, trying to catch up and become seminormal, and I still-"

"The joking thing makes it confusing," Michael interrupted. "Besides, this is Roswell. You qualified as seminormal around here about your second day. On the way to Marias brothers basketball game, Maria and I saw a guy wearing his underpants on the outside and a T-shirt that said Abductee Volunteer."

Adam gave a snort of laughter. "You want some cereal?" he asked, holding up his own bowl of little oat rockets and marshmallow planets.

"I'll pass," Michael answered. He tilted his chair back on two legs and opened the fridge. He studied the contents for a minute, then pulled out a plate of cold spaghetti and a squeeze bottle of chocolate sauce. When he'd slammed the fridge closed and turned back to the table, he saw Adam looking at him with a worried expression.

"What?" Michael mumbled through his first bite.

"Is it normal to eat cereal for dinner?" Adam asked.

"You're a guy living on your own. It's totally normal," Michael told him. "And anyway, being too normal isn't normal."

He was careful to keep his voice low and casual even though a flare of anger had gone off inside him. If Sheriff Valenti wasn't already dead, Michael would cheerfully kill him for what he'd done to Adam. The guy couldn't even eat a bowl of cereal without feeling like a freak.

"Can I ask you something else?" Adam sat down across from Michael. "I'm trying to figure out the kissing thing."

"The kissing thing," Michael repeated. "O-kay go ahead."

"Friends kiss each other sometimes, right?" Adam said. He shoveled a couple of spoonfuls of cereal into his mouth.

"Right," Michael agreed. "Well, guy-girl friends or sometimes girl-girl friends. Not guy-guy friends," he added quickly. He decided not to go into the whole gay-straight issue since Adam was still trying to get down the basics.

"But it's a different kind of kissing, right?" Adam asked.

"Right," Michael said again. He didn't mind answering a few questions, but he hoped Adam wasn't expecting some kind of birds-and-bees sex talk. If he was, Michael would just tell him to start watching a little more cable.

"How's it different? That's what I need to know." Adam scooped up the last of the cereal, then drained the milk at the bottom of the bowl.

Michael thought it over for a minute. "Location, mainly. If you kiss a friend, it's usually not on the lips. And if it is on the lips, then it's a tongue issue. There is no tongue penetration." He picked up a hunk of cold spaghetti, and plopped it into his mouth. He followed it with a chocolate-sauce chaser.

"But lips with no tongue would be okay," Adam said. "Like you've kissed Maria that way."

"Yeah," Michael answered. He didn't add that he'd also kissed Maria that other way. And enjoyed it immensely. If he told Adam that, Adam would just get confused. He wouldn't get why Michael and Maria were just friends if they-

"Okay, say you kissed someone in the friends way, but then they used their tongue. Does that make it okay for you to use yours?" Adam asked. He gave his cereal bowl a spin and almost knocked it off the table.

"It depends," Michael answered. "If you only want to be friends with the girl, then you shouldn't because if you did, the girl would think you were up for being more than friends. It's a girl thing," he explained. "But if you want to be more than friends, then yeah, totally, go for it."

"So if you kissed Maria, and she-"

"Wait," Michael interrupted. "You're not interested in Maria, are you?" Michael knew he wasn't with Maria or anything, but the idea of Adam trying to start something up with her was unacceptable.

Adam shook his head. "It was just an example."

Michael did a quick aura check. He didn't see any signs of deception in the yellow glow around Adam.

"But you are interested in someone, aren't you?" Michael asked.

The rim of Adam's aura darkened to a deep orange, and his face flushed. "Not really," he muttered.

You are such a humongous liar, Michael thought. But he didn't call Adam on it.

It's not like it would be all that hard to figure who Adam had a thing for. He pretty much only knew three girls-Maria, Isabel, and Liz.

Adam's cruising toward a broken heart, Michael thought. Isabel does love him, but she loves him in a protective way, like a little brother.

And Liz. Liz was with Max. Hearts and flowers. Now and forever. All that Harlequin romance bull.

Adam didn't stand a chance with Liz.

Adam flopped down on the air mattress in the corner of the living room, and his thoughts, as always, turned to Liz.

He couldn't help it. And the fact that she'd stopped by the museum that afternoon only made it harder to stop. She'd only stayed for about three minutes. He hadn't even been able to convince her to sit down and relax. But in those three minutes he'd gone into sensory overload. The color of her lips, the smell of her hair when she walked past him, the sound of her voice. The combination had packed such a punch that he'd been practically on his knees by the time she left.

Even so, he wished she'd stayed longer. Tortured him some more.

Maybe then he could have figured out what was bothering her. He knew something was, and not just the fact that Kyle Valenti had threatened the group.

Something was bothering her the other night when I went into her dream, too, he remembered. She'd been in the middle of a horrible nightmare.

Adam rolled over onto his side and peered at his watch. It was after one. Liz was probably already asleep. Was she having bad dreams again? Because if she was, it would be a friend kind of thing to go into her dream and stop it, right?

I'll just check on her, Adam decided. If she's okay, I'll leave.

He closed his eyes and allowed all the muscles in his body to relax and soften. A moment later the dream orbs appeared, whirling, translucent spheres of every color imaginable. They were all beautiful, but there was only one that held any attraction for Adam.

He whistled, long and low, and Liz's dream orb came to him. It circled around his head until he reached up and gently caught it between his hands. He pulled apart his palms, and the orb expanded to the size of a beach ball.

Just a quick look, Adam promised himself again, unable to completely get rid of the sweaty-guilty feeling that he was doing something wrong. He peered into the orb and saw Liz sitting at her desk. It looked like she was filling out college applications.

Not exactly a wonderful dream, but not a nightmare, either. Adam locked his eyes on Liz, wanting to soak up as many details as he could. The shape of the little hollow at the base of her throat. The way she'd tucked her hair behind her ear on one side and let it fall free on the other. The way the polish on her fingernails was a shade lighter than the polish on her toenails.

Wait. When he looked at her feet, he thought he saw something. Adam jerked apart his hands, forcing the walls of the orb out. His heart thudded hard against his chest. A couple of inches of water covered the floor, and the water level was rising. Fast.

Almost as soon as Adam realized this, the water was up to Liz's knees. She jumped up from the chair and started wading toward the door. Before she got halfway there, the water was to her waist, then her chest. Liz forced herself forward, using her arms to help propel herself through the water. She grabbed the door handle and pulled. But the pressure of the water was too strong. She couldn't get the door open.

Enough! Adam thought. He did the first thing he could think of. He used his mind to reconfigure Liz's body, turning her into a goldfish.

Liz immediately started darting around, exploring, enjoying her fish self. Adam let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. She was okay.

Adam knew he should go now. He'd done what he needed to do. But he couldn't resist turning her bed into one of those ceramic castles he'd seen in fishbowls at the pet store.

He smiled as she shimmied through one of the windows and then swam out the front door. She's all set, he thought. Just go.

But how much fun could a castle be for one fish all by herself? Adam said to himself. She needed a friend. There was nothing wrong with hanging out with Liz as friends, especially if they were both fish.

He stretched out his arms as far as they would go, expanding Liz's dream orb until it was large enough for him to step through. As soon as he was inside, he transformed himself into a goldfish, too.

Liz swam around one of the castle's turrets, spotted him, and then dove straight toward him.

When she reached him, she gave him a playful poke in the side with her goldfish snout. Then she flicked herself around and darted into the castle. A second later he spotted her looking out one of the windows. Looking for him.

Adam didn't need an engraved invitation. So what if they were both fish? So what if Liz had no idea who he was? They were together, and that was all he cared about.