Melinda Metz
The Wild One
—Roswell High #2—

—=(1)=—

"Gimme a U!"
"Yeeewwwwww!" Michael Guerin bellowed in a high-pitched shriek.
"Gimme an F!"
"Eeffff," Alex Manes breathed in a husky voice, imitating Marilyn Monroe.
"Gimme an O!"
"Ooohhhhh!" they cried at the same time.
"Gimme a break," Max Evans muttered. But a smile lit up his face as he watched his friends, who were standing on the bench of the bleachers, imitating the cheerleaders.
A perfect, beautiful, sexy smile.
Stop staring at him, Liz Ortecho ordered herself, dragging her gaze away from Max. Some guys might be happy to have Liz drooling over them—half the guys at Ulysses F. Olsen High, according to Liz's best friend, Maria DeLuca. But Max was not one of those guys. Max wanted to be friends. Just friends. Was there a more horrible, painful, heart-squishing phrase than just friends? Liz didn't think so.
Look at Michael. Look at Alex, Liz thought. They were both worth looking at in spite of their ridiculous behavior. Michael had jet black hair, muscles in all the right places, and a killer smile. Alex had a lean, sinewy body, deep red hair, and these bright green eyes.
Not as bright as Max's. The thought just popped into Liz's head. Her eyes wandered over to Max again. Nope, Alex's eyes were nice, very nice. But Max's eyes were breathtaking. Really light blue, with almost a touch of silver.
Sometimes Liz found it hard to believe Sheriff Valenti could look at Max and not know he was an alien. Max's eyes gave his secret away They were unearthly Strange and beautiful.
Lucky for all of them, Valenti never studied Max as closely as Liz did. The sheriff was a member of an organization called Project Clean Slate, and his mission was to track down all aliens living on Earth—which basically meant that he was searching all over for Max, his sister, Isabel, and Michael. They were the only survivors of the famous spaceship crash that happened in Roswell years ago.
Sheriff Valenti was the reason Max wanted to be just friends. As long as Valenti was looking for aliens, Max was in danger. And so was anyone who got too close to him.
It would be so much easier—okay, it would still be hard, but it would be a little easier—if Max didn't like her. That, maybe, she could learn to accept. But Max loved Liz. She knew he did. She could see it in his eyes when he looked at her. And that's why he refused to let her get too close. He insisted it was safer for her this way.
Like she cared about being safe. Like she cared about anything but being with Max.
Liz took one last look at him, at the breath-stealing wonder of him, and forced herself to turn away. She tried to focus on the conversation going on around her.
"I'm making a list of the most superior cheese food products in Roswell. Number one is Crater Taters—I mean, potato sticks covered by bright orange cheese? Sheer genius. But then, Cosmic Crunch is pretty amazing, too," Alex said. He gently placed one of the cheese puffs on his tongue and chewed slowly. His eyes drifted shut and a rapturous smile spread across his face.
Maria caught Liz's eye and shook her head. They both teased Alex for how intense he got when he was making up one of the lists he put on his web site. But they both thought the lists were pretty funny, too.
"That's what I like about you, Alex," Liz told him. "You're not afraid to ask the big philosophical questions. Why does evil exist in the world? Has science disproved the existence of the soul? And the really big one—what variety of cheese puff is truly superior?"
"Hey, what about me?" Michael demanded. "I'm a philosopher, too." He shoved a double handful of the Crater Taters into his mouth and washed them down with mouthwash.
Which had to be one of the most repulsive combinations Liz could imagine. But I'm not an alien, she reminded herself. Michael definitely didn't have human taste buds. If he did, he'd be hurling all over the bleachers right now.
"You're lucky you're cute, or you'd end up in the repulsive hall of fame in a heartbeat," Maria exclaimed as Michael shoveled another load of cheese food into his mouth.
"You really think I'm cute?" Michael asked. He batted his eyelashes at Maria, then he opened his mouth wide, showing the orange gunk coating his tongue.
"I'd definitely ask you out," Alex commented, holding the bag out to Maria.
Maria wrinkled her nose. "I don't eat neon orange food. It just isn't right."
Michael grinned at Alex, who grinned at Maria. And then they pounced on her. Maria tried to squirm away, but Michael grabbed one of her arms and Alex grabbed the other. They both tried to stuff junk food into her mouth. Maria managed to squeal while keeping her teeth tightly locked together, which Liz found pretty impressive.
"Help us out here," Alex called to Max.
Max reached over and tickled the stretch of bare stomach that had become exposed when Maria's sweater rode up. She started to giggle, and Alex and Michael took the opportunity to cram her mouth full.
"We should pay attention," Liz said. It came out a little sharper than she meant it to. "The game's about to start."
They had a few more minutes before kickoff. But Liz wanted Max's hands off Maria—right now. She knew she had nothing to be jealous of. Max and Maria were just buddies. But it still hurt to see Max touching her best friend when he never even touched Liz anymore.
They had only kissed three times before Max announced his just friends law. But Liz could still remember exactly how it felt when his lips touched hers. She couldn't stand the thought of going through the rest of her life without another kiss from Max. Without feeling his fingers in her hair or his body—
Stop torturing yourself, she thought. She focused on the football field.
The cheerleaders lined up in front of the bleachers. Max's sister, Isabel, grabbed a bullhorn. "Give it up for the UFO High Aliens! Rick Monies, Doug Highsinger, Tim Watanabe—" Each guy trotted onto the field when Isabel shouted his name. "John Andrews, Richard Jamison, Nikolas Branson—"
"Is that new guy Nikolas in any of your classes?" Liz asked Maria.
"Spanish. He's kind of quiet," Maria answered.
"He's pretty hot," Liz said loudly. She wanted to make sure Max heard her. Maybe if he thought she was interested in another guy, he would—
Oh, man, I am so pathetic, Liz realized. Next she would probably start reading Susie Scotto's "Out of This World Love" advice column in the UFO Observer.
"Pretty hot?" Maria repeated. "He should come with a warning label!"
Liz took another look at Nikolas. He had dark brown hair that fell to his shoulders and light brown eyes. His high cheekbones and his nose, which had obviously been broken a few times, gave his face a severe look. At least until you noticed his lips, which were full and sensual.
Yeah, he was hot. But Liz observed this in sort of a scientific, anthropological way. Categorizing his cuteness like she was in biology lab or something.
Maria would totally get on my case if she knew what was going through my head right now, Liz thought. Maria always said that being all scientific about things sucked the magic out of the world. But that's just how Liz's mind worked.
"That other mascot better watch out. Izzy is getting mad," Michael commented.
Liz glanced down at the field. Rocky Rocket, Guffman High's mascot, had its arms wrapped around Isabel's waist. Isabel went on cheering, but Michael was right. She looked mucho annoyed.
Suddenly Rocky grabbed the bullhorn out of Isabel's hand and did a little victory dance, leaping into the air.
Maria chuckled. "Ooh, Isabel isn't going to like being teased by a dork in a giant fuzzy outfit."
"She'll get back at him," Michael replied confidently. "Dorks shouldn't mess with Iz. Watch."
Sure enough, Isabel stopped cheering and turned to the mascot with a menacing expression on her face. She held out her hand for the bullhorn.
Rocky shook his big pointed head. Isabel took another step toward him—and stopped. Rocky had jumped high into the air, out of her reach.
The crowd gave a collective gasp as he flipped over in midair, flew about ten feet backward, and landed head down in the trash can full of ice for the football players.
"Whoa, did you see that?" a girl behind Liz exclaimed. "He jumped, like, fifteen feet in the air!"
Rocky struggled out of the trash can and flounced back over to the other side of the field. Liz noticed Isabel smirking at the mascot as he left.
"The weight-to-volume ratio should never have allowed that kind of lift," Liz said thoughtfully.
Maria, Michael, and Alex gave her those blank looks they got whenever she said something sort of scientific.
"Could you say that in English, Mr. Spock?" Maria teased.
"Liz is saying that according to the laws of physics, a guy in a big, heavy mascot costume should never have been able to jump so high in the air," Max explained.
Michael frowned at him. "Not without help, you mean."
"Exactly," Max said.

——===——

Isabel pulled the scrunchie out of her ponytail and shook her blond hair free. She liked the way it looked down, all loose around her shoulders. Guys seemed to like it that way, too. In fact, guys seemed to like pretty much everything about Isabel. A satisfied little smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
"I can't believe the flip that Guffman mascot did." Stacey Scheinin gave a little hop—and landed on the makeup bag Isabel had just placed on the floor in front of her locker. Isabel gave Stacey a death look, but Stacey didn't seem to notice. She just kept chattering—as usual. Stacey loved to hear herself talk.
"It was like, whee!" Stacey exclaimed. "I think we should all take gymnastics lessons so we can get some moves like that into our routines. What do you say, girls?"
There was a chorus of yeahs and greats, and some general squeals of approval from the Stacey wannabes. Isabel rolled her eyes. The cheerleading squad was divided into two groups—girls who hated Stacey and girls who were trying to become Stacey.
Isabel was definitely in the first group. Why would she possibly want to be like Stacey? The girl was always smiling, or giggling, or squealing, or doing all three at once. But underneath all that syrupy, sugary, humongous-dentist-bill-inducing sweetie-pieness, she had the killer instincts of a cobra.
"Especially you, Isabel," Stacey added. "Maybe if you had some gymnastics training, you wouldn't have such a hard time with the Alien Invasion routine."
Isabel ignored her. Stacey took her job as head cheerleader way too seriously. Obviously it was going to be the high point of her whole pathetic little life. And besides, Isabel's jumps were perfect.
"Well, Nikolas Branson seemed to think Isabel looked pretty good during Alien Invasion," Tish Okabe commented. "He couldn't stop staring at her."
Oooh. Good one, Tish, Isabel thought. Stacey had already made it very clear that she wanted new-boy Nikolas.
Stacey shot Tish an evil look. Tish grinned back.
Isabel chuckled. Her best friend was the kind of person who could find something to like in pretty much anyone. Except Stacey.
"I wouldn't mind taking some gymnastics lessons from Nikolas," Lucinda Baker called from her locker.
Isabel thought Lucinda was basically cool. She definitely wasn't trying to be Stacey. But she was of those girls who just tried a little too hard to be out there—a ripped-black-tights-and-green-lipstick type. Isabel had heard the only reason Lucinda went out for the cheerleading squad was because her mom paid her a thousand bucks.
"Like that would ever happen. Nikolas isn't desperate enough to hang out with you, Loose-inda," one of Stacey's girls said.
Isabel pulled on her jeans. She wanted to get out of there. The estrogen level in the locker room was way too high. There was something about spending too long in an all-girl zone that got on her nerves.
"Let's start a pool on who's going to snag Nikolas!" someone called from the next row of lockers. Isabel wasn't sure who. One of the Stacey-ettes. They all tried to talk in her high little voice, so they ended up sounding a lot alike.
"We don't need a pool for that. Nikolas will go to the hottest girl in school, which would be moi," Stacey announced.
Tish gave Isabel a why-are-you-letting-her-get-away-with-that look. But Isabel wasn't in the mood for a verbal catfight with Stacey.
"If you're so hot, why does every guy in school want to go out with Isabel?" Tish asked Stacey.
"Oh, right—they all want Izzy. Then why was she dancing with Alex Manes at the homecoming dance?" Stacey shot back.
Ouch. It's true Alex wasn't exactly part of the royal court, or whatever you wanted to call it, of Olsen High. And usually the most popular girls—which definitely included Isabel—hung out with the most popular guys, period.
"He's just one of my love slaves. I have to give them a break occasionally or they get despondent, forget to eat, and waste away to nothing," Isabel said, keeping her tone casual.
The only reason Isabel had allowed herself to be seen with Alex that night was because he had been part of a plan to keep Sheriff Valenti from discovering the truth about her, Max, and Michael. It's not as if Isabel could have refused to dance with a guy who was helping save her life.
Well, if she was totally honest with herself, Isabel had to admit that wasn't the only reason she'd agreed to dance with Alex. There was just something weirdly irresistible about him. He had this wacked sense of humor. He was smart. And when he touched her, well, the boy did know what to do with his hands.
Isabel checked her makeup in the mirror inside her locker door and added a fresh coat of cinaberry lipstick. Then she grabbed her bag and headed toward the exit leading to the gym.
"I'll tell Nikolas you've got a little crush on him," she called to Stacey. "Maybe I can convince him to give you a break."
Isabel swept out the door before Stacey had a chance to answer. She could just imagine Stacey's cute little face turning red with anger.
"Isabel!" Max called.
Isabel turned and saw her brother waiting for her. He did not look happy. Neither did Liz, Maria, or Michael. Even Alex, who usually couldn't stop grinning like a fool when he saw her, looked sort of grim.
Something must have happened. Something big. Something bad. Did Valenti figure out the truth about them? Did he know who they were? Isabel walked rapidly over to her friends, her shoes echoing in the empty gym.
"What's wrong?" she asked in a low, urgent tone.
Max snorted. "What's wrong?" he repeated, mocking her. "You know exactly what's wrong."
He didn't sound scared or worried. So there wasn't any big emergency. He was just pissed off. At her. What was his problem? She hadn't done anything. Well, okay, she stuck him with doing the dishes last night. Big whoop.
"Not a very bright move, Iz," Michael said.
He sounded as disapproving as Max. What was going on? Had everyone just forgotten to tell her it was National Anti-Isabel Day?
"You know Valenti is still looking for aliens in Roswell," Liz added. "You know how dangerous he is."
"We barely got rid of him the last time," Maria chimed in.
Valenti. Wait. Did this have something to do with the sheriff?
"Okay, somebody better start explaining right now," Isabel declared. "You can't just toss out the name Valenti and not—"
"Oh, come on," Michael interrupted. "Don't try to act all innocent. You used your powers to flip the Guffman mascot into the trash. Did you think we wouldn't notice?"
Isabel felt her stomach tighten. Thanks for giving me the benefit of the doubt, guys, she thought. Thanks for having a little faith in me.
"Well, I guess I should tell you now that I also used my powers to put invisible shields over all the toilet seats, and I made Mr. Tollifson's boxers turn into silk panties," Isabel shot back. "What am I, like, nine years old?"
Max gave her his don't-try-to-get-anything-by-big-brother look. "Look, Iz, I felt power being used—I felt the drain on my energy, and so did Michael. And I know neither of us flipped the stupid mascot."
"Well, I didn't feel anything. You're getting all flipped out over nothing." She gave a tight little smile. "Flipped out. Get it?" She started to push her way between Maria and Michael. She wasn't going to stand here and let them all yell at her for no reason.
Michael grabbed her by the elbow. "You can't just ignore this."
Isabel jerked her arm away. She shot a glance over at Alex. He still hadn't opened his mouth to defend her. If you couldn't count on a guy who was all gooey over you to back you up . . . She glared at him.
"Don't you have something to say?" she challenged.
"I can hardly talk. I'm still traumatized by the image of Mr. Tollifson in silk panties," Alex said. "But if you say you didn't do it, that's good enough for me."
"Me too," Maria added quickly.
"You guys don't know the stuff she's pulled," Max said. "Remember last year when Ms. Shaffer's car ended up on the roof of the gym?"
"Yeah!" Alex cried. "That was great!"
"That was Isabel," Max said, frowning. "Flipping the mascot is exactly her style."
Max remembered every stupid thing Isabel had done in her whole life. Sometimes she thought he had a computer file on her or something. In another second he was going to be bringing up the time she bit Laura Bums in the fourth grade.
"Do you think I'm stupid?" she yelled. "Do you think I don't remember how close Valenti got to finding us? Do you think I'd risk everything to . . . to . . . Do you think I want Valenti . . ." Isabel pulled in a long, shaky breath. She felt tears sting her eyes, and she blinked them away. She wasn't going to do this. She wasn't. She wasn't going to let just the thought of Valenti turn her into a pathetic, quivering mess.
"Hey, Iz . . ." Michael reached for her hand and gently stroked it. "I thought I felt power being used, but maybe my foot fell asleep or something. That could have been the prickly feeling I felt. I shouldn't have just assumed it was you."
Isabel gave a tiny nod. For Michael that was a pretty big apology.
"It's okay, Isabel," Liz put in. "We didn't mean to get you all upset. We shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. Right, Max?"
Everybody looked at Max.
"Right, Max?" Liz repeated.
Max sighed. "I'm sorry, Izzy. I know I felt power. But it was wrong to jump all over you without even asking you what happened."
One thing Isabel had to say for Max—when he was wrong, he admitted he was wrong.
"Okay, I feel the need for a group hug," Michael announced.
Alex pretended to wipe his eyes. "I love you guys."
"I would love you all a lot more if you would stop assuming I'm always going to be the one doing something stupid," Isabel muttered. They were supposed to be her best friends, and this is the kind of trust she got?
Didn't they have a clue how careful she had been lately? Careful could be her middle name. Careful could be her favorite perfume. Careful could be the name of her favorite song. How come they didn't know that?
Sure, she used to be pretty out of control. She used to use her power whenever she felt like it. Just because it was fun. But that was before they found out about Project Clean Slate, before they knew Valenti was an alien hunter.
She would have to be crazy to use her power now. It would be like sending Valenti an invitation to come and get her. Isabel suddenly wished she had worn her heavier coat. Thinking about Valenti always made her feel cold all over.
"Max, can you think of any explanation for what you felt?" Liz asked. "Some kind of electrical current or, I don't know, some change in the weather?"
It would have been nice if Liz had asked those questions before everyone started accusing me, Isabel thought.
Max shook his head. "Power has a really distinct feeling. It's not something I could confuse with anything else."
"Could there be another alien in Roswell?" Maria asked.
Isabel choked back a hysterical burst of laughter. "I wish," she muttered. When she was a kid, she used to hope there were other aliens. Maybe a girl who would be her best friend. But she had never gotten even the tiniest hint that there was anyone else like herself.
And when they realized how they'd gotten here, when they realized that their parents' ship had crashed, they'd known the truth. She and Max and Michael were alone. They were totally on their own.
At least until Alex, Liz, and Maria found out the truth about them.
"If there were others on Earth, they would have felt our power. They would have contacted us," Max explained.
"It's not something you can keep a secret from another alien," Michael agreed. "We feel each others emotions. It just happens. It's not something we can control."
"And we've never felt anyone but the three of us," Isabel murmured.
"I only felt the sensation of power use for a second. I must have been wrong. I must have felt something else," Max said.
But Isabel noticed that the little wrinkle had appeared between his eyebrows, the way it always did when he was worried.

—=(2)=—

UFO H2O. Translation: bottled water with an alien on the label. Man, tourists will buy anything, Michael thought. He used the label gun to stick prices on all the bottles. He had to hand it to his boss, Kristen Pettit. Kristen said the alienophiles would pay $6.99 for water, and she was right.
Space Supplies really raked in the bucks. At the back it was just a regular convenience store where the locals could buy milk and soda and stuff. But the front of the store was crammed with overpriced junk the touristas couldn't seem to resist—stuff like alien-head toothbrushes, glow-in-the-dark alien jewelry, boxing alien puppets, and coffee mugs that said things like, Six Ways to Tell If Your Coworker Is an Alien.
Michael figured he could be a millionaire in about a week if he told everyone the truth about himself. He could probably sell a single hair from his head for a thousand bucks. And nose hair; forget about it. He could probably even sell the lint from his belly button.
Of course there was a little problem with this get-rich-instantaneously scheme. If he told anyone that he was an alien, he'd probably end up dead. Or in a cage somewhere being studied by a team of scientists. Come see the world's biggest millionaire alien lab rat. Yeah, right.
The little alien-face wind chime on the front door jangled. Michael didn't bother turning around. He knew the customer would find him soon enough. Michael geared up to answer the four billion questions about the Roswell Incident every tourist seemed to have.
He should just record a little speech: "Welcome to Space Supplies. Let me give you a short history of the Roswell Incident! We're all right proud of it around here. See, back in the forties a spaceship crashed right outside town. Well, actually more like seventy-five miles out of town, but we don't like to tell folks that because it might limit the amount of money we could suck out of tourists' pockets. Anyhoo, there are citizens, a few still living in town today, who claim to have seen the ship and the bodies of several alien beings. Why aren't the ship and those little alien bodies in our own UFO museum? Well, I'll tell you. The government covered the whole thing up. They told everyone all they had seen was a weather balloon. And—"
"I have a question for you," a voice said from behind Michael.
Yeah, big surprise, Michael thought. He turned around to find Mr. Cuddihy standing behind him. Michael suppressed a groan. Why couldn't he have one of those apathetic social workers? The kind that wouldn't even notice if you missed an appointment?
"You want to know if I think that: alien autopsy tape is a phony?" Michael asked.
Mr. Cuddihy shook his head. "At our appointment—you know, the one you blew off—I wanted to ask you how things were going with the Hughes family."
Michael shrugged. "Okay, I guess." His foster father was a jerk, always playing little power games, but Michael could handle it. None of the foster parents he'd had over the years had been perfect.
"Mr. Hughes mentioned something about a truck the last time we spoke," Mr. Cuddihy commented.
Michael didn't answer. What was he supposed to say? He knew exactly what truck Mr. Cuddihy was talking about. The old hunk of junk Mr. Hughes kept up on blocks in the backyard. At least he used to—until Michael decided to liberate it.
Michael and Max had sent the truck to the bottom of Lake Lee. Sheriff Valenti had gotten way too close to figuring out Max was an alien. So Michael had come up with a plan to make Valenti think the alien he was looking for was dead—drowned in the bottom of the lake. Unfortunately for Mr. Hughes, the plan involved his truck.
"Mr. Hughes said this truck mysteriously disappeared a few weeks ago," Mr. Cuddihy continued.
"He should talk to Mrs. Hughes," Michael answered. "She hates the thing. She calls it the worlds ugliest lawn ornament. She keeps threatening to glue little plaster elves and stuff to it to pretty it up or something."
It was true. Taking the truck was like doing a favor for Mrs. Hughes. And she was much cooler than her husband.
Mr. Cuddihy laughed. "So you don't know anything about the truck?"
Michael shrugged again. "I don't know how anyone managed to get the thing out of the yard. The engine won't even turn over." Of course, if you happened to have powers like he and Max, you could easily shove the truck through space just by concentrating. But he didn't share that fact with the social worker.
"Okay, I told Mr. Hughes I'd mention it, and I did," Mr. Cuddihy said. "But I really came by to see how things were going for you at home. I'm not sure that the Hugheses are a great match for you. I was thinking maybe I'd move you to a new spot."
Translation: The Hughes family didn't want Michael living with them anymore.
Michael felt himself stiffen, all his muscles tightening up. What do you care? he thought. It was just a place to crash.
"So when should I be packed?" he asked.
"Hey, you're getting ahead of me," Mr. Cuddihy protested. "If you think things are working out with the Hugheses, maybe I could set up a few group counseling sessions, and—"
"No, you're right. We aren't the best matchup or whatever." Michael raked his black hair out of his eyes. "Is that all? Because my boss has a ton of stuff for me to do."
"That's all," Mr. Cuddihy answered. "I'll get back to you with details in a couple of days. We can set up another appointment then—and I expect you to show up."
"Yeah, I will. Definitely." Just get out of here already, Michael thought. Mr. Cuddihy was decent enough, but Michael would be very glad when he never had to see the guy again. As soon as he hit his eighteenth birthday it would be good-bye, Mr. Cuddihy. And good-bye, foster families.
Not that he knew exactly when his eighteenth birthday really was. He'd broken out of his incubation pod sometime in the winter. He knew that. But he'd already looked like a human who was around seven years old. So did that mean he broke out of the pod on his seventh birthday, or on his first birthday, or what?
There was no use thinking about it, really. All he cared about was the date social services had assigned him for his birthday. Less than six months away. That's the day he would finally get his freedom.
"I'll call you soon." Mr. Cuddihy headed out the door.
Yeah, he'd call, and the whole foster family garbage would start again. All the little getting-to-know-you talks. All the rules-of-this-house crap. Michael sighed and started stickering the water bottles again. At least he wouldn't have to see Mr. Hughes's superior little smirk anymore. And he was finally getting near the end of the whole fake family thing. That's what he hated the most. If foster families were just like motels or something, it would be okay. But there was always this idea that you were supposed to care about them. And that they were supposed to care about you. As if that ever really happened.
Well, maybe it did happen sometimes. He'd seen a few kids down at social services who seemed close with their foster families. But they were mostly little kids. Cute little kids.
When Michael was a little kid, he wasn't cute. He was weird. He was "seven years old," but he didn't know how to talk or use a fork or use a toilet or anything. He learned fast, but he still wasn't exactly the kind of kid that adults looked at and went "awww" over.
The alien wind chime jangled again, and Max walked in. Michael checked his watch. Quitting time.
"I'm out of here, okay?" he called.
"See you tomorrow," Kristen called back from her office.
Michael grabbed his jacket. "Let's go."
"Hey, I wanted to do a little shopping first," Max protested. "Do you have any of those maps of where the aliens live?"
Michael snorted. "A lady actually asked me that once," he said as they headed outside and over to Max's Jeep.
Max swung himself into the driver's seat. "Okay, where to tonight?" He pulled out of the parking lot and headed out of town.
Michael took his map out of his pocket. He studied all the little shaded sections, all the places he and Max had searched for their parents' spaceship over the years. He figured the government—or Project Clean Slate—had moved the ship to a storage facility somewhere near the crash site. He didn't think they would have risked transporting it too far. Michael planned to keep looking until he found it.
But what was he going to do when he'd shaded in the whole state on his map? Would he just give up the search? How could he? The ship was his only way back to his planet, his real home. No, there was no way he was giving up. If he shaded in the whole state, he'd just start over and check every inch of the desert again and again and again.
"I heard there are some caves about fifteen miles southwest of the crash site," Michael said. "I want to see if we can find any of them. Maybe there's one big enough to hide the ship. They're supposed to be hard to see. The mouths are just cracks in the desert floor—like our cave."
Michael, Max, and Isabel didn't know much about their past. But they had figured out that their parents were on board the ship that crashed in the desert in 1947. The markings on their incubation pods matched markings on debris found near the site. They didn't know how their pods got from the ship to the cave where they broke free. Maybe one of their parents managed to save them before they died.
Michael liked that idea, although he would never admit it. He liked the idea of someone caring enough about what happened to him to make sure he was safe.
"So, what did you do all night while I was working for a living?" Michael asked.
"Oh, you know. The usual. Robbed a bank. Started a wild affair with the mail lady. Ate dinner with my parents," Max answered. "And Ray Iburg, that guy who owns the UFO museum, called. I got the job."
"Very cool," Michael told him.
Max gave the Jeep more gas as they pulled out of town. They had the road to themselves as they blasted into the desert.
"Don't you think there's something strange about the fact that we both work at tourist traps for people obsessed with aliens?" Michael asked.
"Hey, it's Roswell. Half the people in town work at an alien-theme place," Max said.
"Could be worse, I guess. The whole town could sell fish-related products or something." Michael reached for the radio and cranked it. He knew if they kept talking, he'd eventually blab about Mr. Cuddihy's visit.
He didn't want to tell Max that he was switching foster homes again. If he did, Max would just start feeling bad. Not that he would say anything much—Max knew Michael hated being pitied. But he'd probably end up very casually suggesting that Michael move in with the Evanses for his last year of high school.
Michael knew Mr. and Mrs. Evans would agree to take him in. A couple of years ago, when Michael was getting ready to change foster homes for about the millionth time, Mrs. Evans had volunteered to talk to Mr. Cuddihy about becoming Michael's foster mom. She said he practically lived with them, anyway, and he definitely ate all their food.
But the Evanses had raised Max and Isabel from the time they were little kids. They were a family. A real family. And as nice as Mr. and Mrs. Evans were to Michael, he knew they'd only be taking him in out of pity.
Michael had made it this long in foster families, and he could hold out a little longer. And it's not like he'd been totally miserable all these years. Miserable was way too strong a word.
Okay, he hadn't exactly been happy. But welcome to the club, right? He had eyes. He could see auras, those swirls of color that surrounded all living things, as unique as fingerprints. And those auras told him there were a lot of people out there who weren't quite happy or exactly miserable. And they were all getting along okay.
Michael stared out the window, letting himself zone out as miles and miles of flat desert whipped by. It felt good not talking, not really even thinking. It was like his body was still in the car, but the rest of him had just sort of dissolved into the air.
Max turned down the radio. "That motorcycle is freaking me out."
"Huh?" Michael straightened up and glanced over at Max.
"That motorcycle has been following us for miles," Max explained.
Michael checked the rearview mirror. "Following us? You sure? I mean, there is only one highway out of Roswell in this direction."
"Yeah, you're right," Max admitted. "You know what it is? I keep thinking about that thing with the mascot. It weirded me out."
"Maybe you should give easy rider back there a little test," Michael suggested.
Max nodded. He jerked the wheel to the left, taking the Jeep into the desert. The motorcycle continued down the highway.
"False alarm," Michael said.
"I've got to get a grip," Max answered.
"Yeah, it's not like people are out there looking for us, probably plotting to kill us," Michael commented sarcastically.
"Oh, right. We're just ordinary high school students. I keep forgetting," Max said.
Michael heard an engine rev behind them. He looked over his shoulder. The motorcycle was cutting across the desert, following him and Max. "You know what? I don't think this is a good night for a search."
Max spun the Jeep around and headed back toward town. "You know what? I think you're right."

——===——

Alex crouched down and studied the ragged purple carpet of the miniature golf hole. "I think you should use a nine iron for this shot," he said.
He could tell Isabel was trying not to smile, but the corners of her lips turned up, anyway. "See, I told you miniature golf would make you feel better." He placed Isabel's ball on the little rubber mat and stood up.
"I still can't believe you guys all just accused me," she complained. "It was like this big Blame Isabel party."
"Everyone's still freaked out about the Valenti thing," Alex explained. "We're all at a high risk for paranoia-induced stupidity right now. Which explains everyone getting on your case."
"Well, everyone better get off my case, or they aren't going to have to worry about Valenti. They're going to have to worry about me." Isabel stepped up to the ball. "This has to rank right up there with baton twirling as the world's stupidest sport."
"Hey, watch it," Alex warned her. "I'm planning to go pro." He glanced at the scorecard. "Which is not an option for you. Your score is so big, it won't even fit on one line."
"Like I care." Isabel aimed at the ball.
"We've come to a particularly treacherous hole—the shocking pink spaceship." Alex kept his voice at that weird loud whisper golf commentators used on TV. "As you'll see, the gangplank leading into the ship goes up and down. The golfer must time her shot perfectly if she wants to get her ball into that ship."
Isabel ignored him. She shoved her long blond hair away from her face. She looked from the ball to the spaceship gangplank, then back to the ball.
"She adjusts her stance," Alex loud-whispered. "She brings back her club. Beautiful form. She—"
"She spins around and brings her club down on the head of her companion. Blood sprays across the artificial grass of the Black Hole Putt-Putt Golf Course," Isabel interrupted.
Alex decided to shut up. The whole reason he asked Isabel to go miniature golfing was to shake her out of her bad mood—not to make it worse.
Yeah, you're a hell of a guy, Alex told himself. The kind of a guy who would do anything to help out a friend. The fact that said friend is blond, blue-eyed, and curvy—just your basic gorgeous—has nothing to do with it.
Isabel waited for the spaceships creaking gangplank to lower, then swung back her club and missed the ball completely. She tried again and the ball shot across the faded purple carpet—and hit the closed gangplank. "Why are we doing this again?" she asked.
"Because it's fun," Alex answered. "I'll help you this time." He moved up behind Isabel and placed his hands over hers on the golf club. He breathed in the sort of orangy-spicy scent of her hair. Was it his imagination, or did Isabel just take a tiny step back, bringing her body flush up against his?
"So is this the fun part?" Isabel asked. Her voice sounded sort of husky.
"I can definitely say that all parts of me are having fun," Alex answered.
"You know what would make it even more fun for me?" Isabel asked.
"What?" Alex felt his hands start to sweat. He hoped Isabel couldn't feel it. Sliming her wouldn't exactly make a great impression.
"It would be more fun if I could hit the damn ball into the damn spaceship," Isabel answered sweetly.
Oh yeah. Golf, Alex thought.
"Okay, don't wait for the gangplank to get all the way back to the ground, or it will be on its way up when the ball gets to it. When the gangplank starts down, that's when you swing." Alex forced himself to watch the gangplank. Then he guided Isabel's swing, and the ball shot straight into the spaceship. Isabel gave a little squeal.
"I suddenly remembered I'm in the presence of a cheerleader," Alex said.
Isabel blushed. "I sounded like Stacey Scheinin."
"That's okay. Miniature golf can be a very exciting sport," Alex answered. He hit his ball into the spaceship, then led the way to the other side. His ball sat next to Isabel's, inches away from the hole.
"You want help?" Alex asked.
"I think I can take it from here," Isabel told him.
So did that mean she didn't like having his arms around her? Or did she just think it was stupid of him to offer to help her make a total cake shot? Or what?
Alex played the rest of the hole on autopilot. His mind kept racing like a gerbil on an exercise wheel. Isabel was so hard to read. Yeah, she was flirty with him. But he had no idea what she was thinking. Like, was she just having sort of a momentary kind of good time? Or did she think something was building between them?
Man, I have spent way too much time around Liz and Maria, he decided. They were great. He was enjoying the whole girls-as-best-friends thing. But he didn't want to start thinking like one of them. If he didn't watch out, in another minute he was going to ask Isabel what she thought of their relationship and maybe offer her some mint-flavored coffee.
"So we're done, right? We're through having fun?" Isabel said.
"We still have the bonus hole." Alex led the way. "If you can hit your ball in the alien's mouth, you win a free game."
Isabel frowned as she studied the mammoth green alien. "I thought humans had a thing about aliens being little green men."
"If it was little, the hole would be lower, which means it would be easier to hit a ball in, which means the owners might actually have to cough up a free game," Alex explained. "I still can't believe you've never been miniature golfing."
"It's not exactly a happening spot," Isabel said.
Which means she must have wanted to spend time with me! Alex thought. Since she obviously has no interest in being here for any other reason.
The gerbil started running again. Did that mean Isabel thought of this as a date? Well, not a date. No one living in this decade went out on dates. But did she think of it as a thing? A guy-girl event thing? A guy-girl event thing that could include some kind of kissing thing somewhere toward the end of whatever it was?
Ever since the night of the homecoming dance, when he'd spent that one, long, amazing slow song holding her, he had wanted to kiss her.
Get serious, he told himself. He'd seen Isabel in the hall on the day he transferred to Olsen High. September nineteenth of last year. And that's exactly how long he'd been wanting to kiss her.
He glanced over at Isabel and found her staring at him. "Are you doing some kind of visualization to psych yourself up for the challenge of this bonus thing?" she asked.
Isabel must think he was such a doofus, staring into space like that. "Uh, yeah," he mumbled. "All the great miniature golfers do it." Alex dropped his ball on the mat and took his shot without even aiming. He missed.
Isabel carefully positioned her ball. "I think I've finally gotten this game figured out. Won't my parents be proud." She swung. The ball flew toward the laser gun in the alien's right hand—then veered left and slammed into the alien's mouth.
The alien's red eyes started to flash. "Take me to your leader," it croaked out in an electronic voice. "Taake me to yoour leeader. Taaake meee tooo yooour leee—" The alien's voice groaned to a stop.
The kid who handed out the golf clubs ran up to her. "You get a free game. That was awesome. I've never seen anyone make that shot. Never!" He thrust a free game coupon into her hand.
When the kid walked away, Alex gave Isabel a high five. "Impressive," he said. Isabel didn't answer. She didn't take her eyes off the huge alien. She was probably stunned that she actually made the shot. If Liz was here, she'd probably say the ball defied the laws of physics, he thought.
Which is pretty much what she said when the mascot flipped into the trash. Alex felt his grin disappear.
"I felt it," Isabel mumbled, still staring at the alien. She turned to Alex, and her face looked a little pale. "I felt someone use power."
"Are you sure?" Alex asked.
"Positive." Isabel shot another glance at the alien. "Come on, let's go turn in our stuff," she said. They dropped off their clubs and headed out to the parking lot.
Alex couldn't figure this out. Obviously neither Max nor Michael was following Isabel around helping her win free games of miniature golf. And they all insisted there couldn't possibly be another alien. So what was going on?
Whatever it was, it seemed centered around Isabel. The mascot got flipped—right in the middle of taunting Isabel. And it was Isabel who made the amazing golf shot.
They stopped in front of Alex's beat-up VW Rabbit. "Uh, Isabel." He hesitated. He didn't want to say what he was about to say. He'd just spent a couple of hours working to get Isabel out of her bad mood, and he was about to shove her right back in.
She narrowed her eyes. "Spit it out."
"Are your powers totally under your control?" he asked in a rush. "I mean, have you ever used them sort of unconsciously?"
"What—you think I had such a massive desire to make a miniature golf shot that I unconsciously used my power?" Isabel demanded. "Thanks a lot, Alex. You're just like the others. You automatically think everything is my fault."
"It wouldn't be your fault if you uncon—," Alex began, trying to do some damage control.
"No way," Isabel interrupted. She pushed Alex up against the car. She was standing so close that he could feel the heat radiating off her body. The spicy scent of her was making him dizzy.
Isabel moved even nearer, closing the tiny distance separating them. "I never do anything I don't plan to do," she said firmly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, a long deep kiss that forced all questions out of his head.

—=(3)=—

Isabel stuck the free miniature golf coupon in the frame of her dresser mirror. She made sure it was evenly lined up with the picture of her and Alex at the homecoming dance, then she flopped down on her bed.
That had actually been fun. Miniature golf had a high potential for dorkitude, but Alex managed to make it cool. Except for that part at the end. That weird moment when she felt the little buzz of power being used.
Could Alex be right? Could she have used her power to direct the golf ball without realizing it? The idea really creeped her out.
It doesn't make any sense, she told herself. They were talking about miniature golf here. There was no way anything related to miniature golf could qualify as an unconscious desire. Yeah, making that hole in one had been fun. But it's not like she really cared.
It would be a different deal if Brad Pitt had suddenly materialized in front of her. Or if Stacey Scheinin had ballooned up to, like, four hundred pounds. Then she would really have to consider Alex's unconscious desires theory.
There had to be some other explanation. But she had absolutely no idea what. And trying to figure it out was starting to make her head hurt.
Isabel stretched out on her bed and shut her eyes. Maybe she would just take a peek into a few dreams. She could use a little distraction.
At least she could still dream walk. It was the only use of power that was safe—humans never knew about it. Even Max, Mr. Responsibility, dream walked once in a while.
Isabel wondered if there would ever be a time when she could stop being careful. If there would ever be a time when she could use the other kinds of power. She missed it. It felt like part of her had been injected with novocaine and was totally numb. Almost dead.
Maybe Max and Michael didn't care about losing that part of themselves. But Isabel did. Living without using her power was like having a big, beautiful, brightly colored pair of wings—but never being able to fly.
There's no point in thinking about it, she told herself. You use your power to do anything but dream walk, and you could end up dead. Period.
Isabel adjusted her pillow under her head. She focused on taking deep, even breaths, preparing to dream walk. In moments she slipped into the state between sleep and wakefulness, and the dream orbs became visible.
She sat up and let her eyes wander over the glistening orbs spinning around her. They always reminded her of giant soap bubbles, filled with iridescent colors.
Each orb belonged to someone who was asleep and dreaming. Over the years Isabel had managed to match up most of the people she knew with their dream orbs. She identified them partly by colors but mainly by sound. Each orb gave off one pure note of music, and none of these notes were exactly alike.
Isabel closed her eyes to focus her attention on the sounds of the orbs without being distracted by their shimmering beauty. Yes, there was a new sound. So low and deep, it was almost inaudible.
She began to hum, calling the dream orb to her. The sound grew closer. Isabel opened her eyes and stretched out her arms. She hummed louder, coaxing the orb closer. She smiled as it spun into her hands.
It will probably be some middle-aged guy who just moved to town, Isabel thought. He'll be having some gross dream about him and a supermodel. Sometimes when you peeked into people's dreams, you saw some really icky stuff. Stuff that made you want to run into the bathroom and wash your hands.
Isabel took a deep breath and peered into the orb. All she could see was her own face reflected back at her. Weird. The surface of the other orbs was translucent, making it easy to see the dream inside. But the surface of this new orb looked like metal, like bronze, but thinner than a sheet of paper and soft.
It definitely wasn't enough to keep Isabel out. She drew her hands apart, humming low in her throat. The dream orb expanded until it was too large to hold in her arms. She released it and it continued to grow. When it was large enough, Isabel stepped inside. The orb re-formed behind her.
Whoa. This was much better than some sweaty guy's dream. This was awesome. Truly.
Isabel stood on a deserted beach. The sun had almost set, and the darkening sky was splashed with deep reds and oranges. The air smelled ozone charged, the way it usually did after a storm. But it didn't look as if it had rained recently.
This is someone's dream, Isabel reminded herself. Don't look for logic.
It didn't feel like a dream, though. For one thing, it was way too static. There were a few tiny birds chasing the waves when they went out and running away from them when they came back in, but that was it. If this was a regular dream, something would be happening.
And where was the dreamer? Okay, in some dreams the dreamer didn't quite look like himself, but whoever was having this dream should be here in some form. Could the dreamer be dreaming he was one of those little birds? That would be sort of a nice dream.
Isabel decided as long as she was going to be hanging out here, she might as well enjoy herself. And she wasn't really dressed for the beach. An instant later Isabel had on a bright orange bikini with a gauzy wraparound skirt. Her feet were bare, and she had a big tropical fruit drink in one hand. She decided to give herself a nice golden tan, too. She loved how easy it was to manipulate reality in a dream.
Isabel wandered along the shore, her feet sinking deep into the sand with each step. The sand felt so soft, as soft as dusting power. She had never seen such small grains.
The sky grew completely dark, and the moon came out. Isabel sat down and stared up at it. That's when she realized that there wasn't one moon in the sky—there were two. Both perfectly full and glowing with a silver light.
A breeze kicked up, blowing Isabel's hair across her face. A moment later her hair was up in an elegant twist. She wished she had this much power when she was awake! She'd never have to suffer through another bad hair day.
Clouds drifted across the moons. Acid green clouds.
Isabel felt her heart give a little flutter in her chest. She had seen clouds like those before. She and Max and Michael had all come out of their pods with memories of their home planet. Max figured they were some kind of species memories, memories all the people on their planet were born with. Those acid green clouds—that's where she had seen them before. In one of her species memories.
Why were those clouds in this dream? It would make sense if it were Max or Michael doing the dreaming. But they definitely weren't. Isabel knew exactly what their dream orbs looked like.
It's just a coincidence, she told herself. Acid green clouds could turn up in anyone's dreams. It's not like humans couldn't imagine weird-colored clouds.
Isabel shoved herself to her feet and headed down the beach. She came to a stand of trees. They were short, shorter than she was, with peeling, papery bark. She had never seen anything like them, but she wasn't a biology head like Max. These trees could be some ordinary earth variety for all she knew.
She reached out and pulled off a strip of the flaky bark. Red sap, as glossy as nail polish, began to leak from the tree. The scent hit her nose—sharp and tangy. And familiar. But familiar only from one of her species memories.
Whose dream was this? Why couldn't she see them? Was the dreamer hiding from her? Watching her? That had never happened before. But she had never encountered an orb with a metallic surface before, either. She had never had a dream match up with her species memories.
"Where are you?" Isabel cried. "Who are you?"
This was getting too creepy. She wanted to get out of here. Next time she would bring Max and Michael into the dream orb with her and they could explore together.
Isabel stumbled away from the tree. Two strong hands caught her by the waist, steadying her. Then she was pulled up against a broad, bare chest. All hard muscle under smooth skin. She knew she should jerk away. But it just felt too good.
"Looking for me, Isabel?" a low male voice asked. The feel of warm breath against her ear sent shivers through her.
"Who are you?" Isabel demanded. She started to turn around—and the dream broke. She was back on her bed, back in her regular clothes.
She sat up, feeling groggy and disoriented. She dipped her fingers in the glass of water that she had placed on her nightstand earlier and splashed some water on her face. It helped a little. But she still felt half asleep.
That's it! Isabel drew a sigh of relief. She must have fallen asleep before she entered the plane where the dream orbs were visible. That explained everything—the strange metallic orb, the acid green clouds, the way it felt like there was no dreamer in the dream.
Isabel was the dreamer. Yeah, that explained everything.
Well, everything except those two strange bursts of unexplained power. Those weren't part of her dream.

——===——

Max tilted back his head, enjoying the feeling of the sun shining down on his face. In another month or so it would be too cold to eat lunch in the quad. But today the weather was perfect. He liked the way he, Liz, Alex, Michael, Maria, and Isabel had gotten in the habit of eating together. Of course, he would like anything that gave him the chance to spend a little more time with Liz. But that wasn't the only reason. Being surrounded by people who knew the truth about him—and cared about him, anyway—was still an amazing feeling.
"Well, hush my mouth. Look who's come calling," Alex said in an overdone southern accent.
Max glanced over his shoulder and saw Elsevan DuPris heading across the quad, dressed in his usual rumpled white suit, white Panama hat, and white shoes.
"Well, hello there, children," DuPris drawled as he strolled up to them. His southern accent sounded almost as fake as Alex's. "I'd like to ask you a few questions, if you would be so kind. I'm working on a story for my little paper."
DuPris's little paper was the Astral Projector. It was Roswell's answer to the National Enquirer. Except Roswell being Roswell, all the stories were about aliens. Max had never read an issue. The headlines were bad enough. "Alien Baby Melts Mother with a Single Kiss" kinds of deals.
"I'm sorry. I told my lawyer I wouldn't talk to the press unless she was present. I'm always being hideously misquoted," Alex said.
DuPris ignored him. "I heard that something a tad unusual happened at the football game the other day. Something about a mascot behaving in a most peculiar way, almost defying the laws of physics. Can any of you tell me anything about that?"
Of all the kids who were at that game, why is he asking us? Max thought. He told himself not to get paranoid. DuPris was obviously a buffoon. This was nothing to get in a sweat about.
"That was the Guffman mascot, not ours," Maria told him. "You should go over there."
"I shall, I shall. But do y'all have any impressions for me since I'm here and all?" DuPris asked. He rolled his walking stick between his palms, twirling it back and forth.
"I didn't notice. I was too busy checking out our new football player," Liz answered, looking right at Max.
And Liz Ortecho delivers a crashing punch to Max Evans's stomach, a little sports commentator voice in Max's head said. He staggers, but he doesn't go down.
"It was a pretty good flip. All of us cheerleaders were saying we should start taking gymnastics lessons to keep up," Isabel added. She smiled at DuPris, her blue eyes open wide.
That's Iz, Max thought. Thinks a pretty smile is all it takes to get her way. And usually it was. Except with him, of course. Brothers are invulnerable to that kind of tactic from their sisters.
"Oh, don't be modest," DuPris cooed. "You're a fine athlete from what I hear. Everyone's talking about your performance at the miniature golf course."
Isabel stiffened a little. "Oh, pfft, that was just luck," she said.
Yeah, right, Max thought. It was totally obvious his sister was lying—at least it was totally obvious to him. Maybe not to DuPris. As soon as DuPris left, Max would have to ask Isabel exactly what her performance involved. Obviously something had gone on that he should know about.
"I don't believe in luck," DuPris said. "Some people believe that we all have an angel on our shoulders and that's where luck comes from. But I have a different theory."
Max tried to keep his face completely blank. Maybe the guy would take a hint that no one wanted to hear his theory and take off.
"My theory is that our luck comes from alien intervention. I believe there are aliens among us and that sometimes they give us a little help," DuPris continued.
Michael raised his eyebrows. "They came billions of miles to help us with miniature golf?" he asked.
"Well, among other things," DuPris agreed.
The bell rang, and Max sprang to his feet. "Got to get to class."
"Ah. Well, I thank you for your time." DuPris tipped his hat and wandered off.
"Why do I suddenly feel the urge for some southern cuisine every time I see that guy?" Alex asked. He shoved the last bite of his hamburger into his mouth and grabbed his backpack. "See y'all later," he added. He headed toward the gym.
"Wait up," Michael called. He trotted after Alex.
Maria turned to Isabel. "Are you ready for another round of Julius Caesar?"
"No, but let's go, anyway." They wandered toward the east wing.
"Alone at last," Max said to Liz. He meant for it to come out sort of cool and jokey. But instead it sounded lame.
Liz stood up and stared after Maria and Isabel. "That's something I never thought I'd see. A few weeks ago Maria was convinced Isabel wanted to kill her, and Isabel . . ." She shook her head.
Whoa. Max knew that "alone at last" thing was dorky. But he didn't think it called for a complete subject change.
Max's throat got all tight. It felt like there was no way he could squeeze out another word—if he could somehow even think of another word to say. He swallowed hard and followed Liz across the quad and through the doors of the main building.
The tightness in his throat worked its way down into his chest as they climbed the stairs and silently headed into the bio lab. He could hardly breathe.
This totally sucked. A month ago, before she knew the truth about him, Max and Liz were friends. True, they weren't the kind of friends who ate lunch together or hung out much at all. But they could always talk. About pretty much anything; well, except for the alien stuff. Max could talk to Liz about the things that made Michael's and Isabel's eyes turn as blank as marbles. Like theories about how the universe was created or if artificial intelligence programs would ever be able to give computers the ability to feel true emotions.
Max dumped his books on the lab table. He couldn't stop thinking about how much things had changed between him and Liz in the past month. First, when she got shot and he used his powers to heal her, the only consequence he'd expected was that he'd have to admit to her he was an alien. But the second he pressed his hands over the gunshot wound, he knew with absolute certainty and clarity that he loved Liz. And his world changed forever.
He didn't think there was a chance that Liz could ever love him back. Yeah, maybe on a TV show a totally beautiful, totally smart, totally everything girl like Liz could fall in love with the Amazing Alien Boy or whatever. But that didn't happen in real life.
Except that it did. Not all at once. At first Liz was seriously freaked out about Max being an alien. But then she realized that he was the same person he had always been. And somehow . . . somehow, magically, Liz fell in love with him.
Max glanced over at her. She was all busy flipping through her notebook. But she was turning the pages so fast, he doubted she could read a single word. She just wanted an excuse not to have to come up with something to say to him.
Ms. Hardy hurried into the room. Good. Now we can get started on our lab work, Max thought. Something we can still manage to do together without it being completely awkward and uncomfortable.
"Okay, today's experiment is going to take almost all the time we have, so listen up," Ms. Hardy said. "Each team has an unknown substance. Your job is to determine what the substance is, using the information we've covered so far this semester. Go on and get started."
Liz ripped open the envelope containing their unknown. It was a small strip of metal. She flipped it over in her fingers. "It's pretty light," she commented. "What do you want to try first?"
"Hardness scale?" Max suggested. He pulled open the top drawer of their lab station and pulled out some metal samples. He handed a piece of iron to Liz and she scraped the unknown with it.
"It scratched. So it's softer than iron," she said. She tried the rest of the samples. They all scratched the unknown metal.
"What do you think? Magnesium?" Max asked.
"Probably," Liz agreed. "Let's try burning it. That will tell us a lot."
Max pulled out the Bunsen burner and connected the rubber tube to the gas spigot. He put on a pair of goggles and handed another pair to Liz. She used the striker to light the flame, and Max adjusted the oxygen flow until the flame was the right height.
Liz picked up the metal sample with a pair of tongs and held it over the flame. When she pulled it out, the metal burned with a brilliant white light, much brighter than the orange flame of the Bunsen burner.
It's like when I touched Liz the day she got shot at the Crashdown Cafe, Max thought. I touched her, and it's like I lit up with this amazing white light. And I knew I was in love with her.
"I think we were right," Max told Liz. "You want to try it under some water just to be sure?" He flipped on the cold water faucet, and Liz held the blazing piece of metal under the stream. It made a fizzling sound, but it didn't go out. Max turned off the water, and the white flame was as bright as ever.
Nothing is going to put out the light in me, either, Max thought. I'm never going to wake up and find myself out of love with Liz.
Maybe he should tell Liz he was wrong when he said they had to be just friends. Wasn't it insane to give up on a fire so blinding, so impossible to quench? How many times was he ever going to feel this way in his life?
Answer: one. One time. Because there wasn't another girl like Liz anywhere on this planet or any other.
And that's why they had to stay just friends. The closer Liz got to him, the more danger she was in. Max felt pretty sure Sheriff Valenti wanted all aliens on earth dead. And he had a feeling Valenti wouldn't mind offing any humans who happened to be in the way. Including Liz.
Just friends. Max was starting to hate those two words.

—=(4)=—

"Put me down for ten bucks on my girl Isabel," Tish called. She gave Isabel's shoulders a squeeze. "I know you can do it," she whispered.
"What are you talking about?" Isabel asked. She sat down on the wooden bench in front of her locker and slid on her clogs.
She had tuned out the conversation when Stacey started critiquing each of their jumping techniques. Isabel never bothered to listen to Stacey when she did her little after-practice lectures while everyone was changing.
But today she'd tuned out everybody, even Tish. She couldn't stop thinking about that weird dream she'd had last night. Plus that strange little conversation with DuPris at lunch.
"We're talking about the snag-Nikolas contest," Tish said. "The same thing we've been talking about for, like, the last fifteen minutes."
Stacey hopped up onto the bench next to her locker. "It sounds like Isabel is going to try to weasel out of this," she cried. "That means I win!"
"Isabel's not weaseling," Tish protested. "She just wants to know what we're talking about, you know, what counts as snagging, right, Isabel?"
"Right," Isabel answered. If there was a choice between agreeing with Tish or agreeing with Stacey, Isabel was always going to go with Tish, but she was still trying to figure out exactly what she wasn't weaseling out of.
"Lunch together in the quad," Julie suggested.
"No, tongue kissing in the quad," Lucinda countered.
"Holding hands in the quad," Tish said.
Isabel shook her head. Tish should become a diplomat or something. She was always coming up with compromises, trying to make everyone happy.
"Is holding hands okay with everyone?" Tish asked. Most of the girls nodded or grunted, and no one said no. "Okay, that's it, then. I'll hold everyone's money. We pretty much all eat lunch in the quad, so we'll be able to see who ends up holding hands with Nikolas first—Isabel or Stacey."
Fine, Isabel thought. I got it. To humiliate Stacey, all I have to do is hold hands with Nikolas Branson. No problem. Except for Alex. Alex ate lunch in the quad pretty much every day, too. Which meant he'd see the hand holding.
Isabel slammed her locker door shut. Hey, she and Alex danced once at homecoming. They went miniature golfing, and she kissed him. That's it. Well, besides hanging out sometimes with the whole group. She didn't owe him anything.
I can't believe I'm worried about Alex seeing me hold hands with another guy. I'm losing it, Isabel thought.
Isabel was always telling Tish that a little jolt of jealousy was good for keeping a guy's interest. She wasn't ready to be anybody's girlfriend, even Alex's. She wanted to be free to have fun—with whoever she pleased. But somehow it didn't feel right to play games like that with Alex. She just had a feeling he'd see right through her. He understood her. And he got to her in a way that other guys didn't.
Maybe the whole snag-Nikolas contest was a good thing. It would remind Alex and her that there was nothing serious going on between them.
Isabel added a little dark blue mascara to her lashes, which made her eyes look even bluer. She touched up her lipstick and dabbed on a little of the perfume Maria mixed up for her. She loved the combination of citrus and spice. She just wasn't the sweet flowery type.
"So are you going to look for him now?" Tish asked, keeping her voice low.
"That's right. Stacey's not going to have a chance," Isabel answered, loud enough for everyone to hear. She strolled out of the locker room and into the gym. She decided the bleachers would be a good place to wait for Nikolas to "run into" her.
The door to the guys' locker room swung open. Isabel took a quick peek. Just John Andrews and Richard Jamison. She gave them a little smile, just to sort of get the guy-attracting muscles warmed up. They veered toward her. Oops. She didn't mean to actually encourage them to come over.
Isabel flipped open her binder and locked her eyes on one of the pages. John and Richard hesitated, then continued out of the gym. Good boys, Isabel thought. She could have kept them around so that when Nikolas came out she had a little entourage around her. But some guys didn't like that. It intimidated them or something. Nikolas didn't especially look like a guy who was bothered by a little competition, but it didn't hurt to play it safe. She could always get a couple of the other football players to come over and flirt with her if Nikolas turned out to be the type who enjoyed beating out other guys.
The door to the girls' locker room opened, and Stacey bounced into the gym. Isabel waved to her, and Stacey's lips turned down in a tiny frown. She wasn't pleased that Isabel had staked out the bleachers. Poor baby.
Isabel couldn't stop a grin from stretching across her face as Stacey flounced out of the gym. A few seconds later Craig Cachopo and Doug Highsinger burst out of the guys' locker room. They did some loud mock fighting as they passed the bleachers. Isabel wondered how guys ever got it in their heads that this somehow impressed girls. As if she was going to look at one of them and think, Whoa, that boy does a pretty convincing fake choke hold. I want him.
A couple of Stacey-ettes practically skipped past her. Tish came out of the locker room a few seconds later. She just gave Isabel a little wave and kept on walking. She obviously didn't want to cramp Isabel's style. Then Tim Watanabe scurried past, head down. Isabel couldn't figure out how he could be so shy everyplace but on the football field. When he was out there, he was a total maniac. Maybe the coach should start giving him pep talks after games instead of before them.
Come on, Nikolas, I'm getting bored, Isabel thought. She started doing little fashion critiques on everyone who passed her just to amuse herself. But eventually people stopped coming out of the locker rooms. Where was Nikolas? Was he dressed and out of there before she got to her spot in the bleachers?
Isabel grabbed her backpack. Forget this. She would just reel in Nikolas the next time she saw him. It's not like she was at all worried about Stacey. Even if Stacey got to Nikolas first, Isabel would have no problem winning their little contest.
She climbed down from the bleachers and headed across the polished wooden floor. Before she reached the door, two strong hands slid around her waist and pulled her back against a rock-hard chest. She felt warm breath against her ear. Then she heard a low male voice. "Looking for me, Isabel?"
Isabel gasped. It was the voice from her dream. The same voice, the same words. The sound of it sent heat spiraling through her body. Her throat went dry.
Isabel slowly turned around—and saw Nikolas Branson staring down at her. I thought his eyes were brown, she thought, her mind spinning. But they aren't. They're golden. Like tiger eyes.
"Who are you?" she breathed.
He didn't answer. Isabel pushed herself away from him and half stumbled. Her legs actually felt trembly. Get a grip, she ordered herself.
"I was in your dream last night, wasn't I?" she asked.
The corner of his mouth turned up in a half smile, but he still didn't answer. Who did he think he was? "If you don't give me some answers, I'm out of here," Isabel snapped. Even though the last thing she wanted to do was walk away.
"I never answer questions," Nikolas told her. "They bore me." He stepped around her and headed for the gym doors. "So are you coming?" he asked without even turning around. He didn't wait for an answer; he just pushed through the double doors and let them slam behind him.
Isabel hesitated for about one second. I can't believe I am chasing after a guy, she thought. But she had to know who he was. She had to find out why sense memories of her planet were in his dream. And admit it, she told herself. You can't wait to feel him touch you again.
Isabel caught up to Nikolas as he pushed his way out of the big side doors. They headed out to the parking lot in silence. Nikolas swung onto a wicked-looking motorcycle. This time Isabel didn't hesitate at all. She climbed on behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.
Nikolas gunned the engine, and they roared out of the parking lot. He drove straight out of town and into the desert. Isabel threw back her head and gave a howl of pure delight.
Maria studied the jumble of vials on her dresser. Each was filled with one of the essential oils she used in her aromatherapy. She plucked out six vials—cedar, ylang-ylang, cinnamon, almond, eucalyptus, and rose—and carried them over to her bed.
She wanted to re-create the blend of scents she'd smelled the night Max formed a connection between the six of them. The memory of that evening made Maria smile. She'd been terrified that Isabel and Michael would use their alien powers to kill her, and they'd been terrified that she would tell Valenti the truth about them. So Max had brought them all to the aliens' secret cave, the place where they had broken out of their pods as children.
And he formed a connection between them. Maria had no idea how, but she'd felt as if she could suddenly see inside the others' minds. For a brief moment she knew what it felt like for Michael, Max, and Isabel—what it felt like to feel someone else's emotions. The connection allowed each of them to see the essence of the others. Well, not just see. That made it seem as if it only involved sight. But it was nothing that simple. Nothing that ordinary.
Once the connection was formed, she could see the auras of each of the others—Max's clear emerald green, Isabel's deep purple, Michael's brick red, Alex's screaming orange, Liz's rich amber, and her own a sparkling blue. And there was music, too. Each of them somehow produced a note of music that combined into a symphony, sweeter than anything she had ever heard.
But it was the perfume that affected Maria the most. During the connection the cave filled with a blend of scents that made her feel completely at peace, connected not just with the others but with the whole universe. Maria realized that each of them contributed one fragrance to the perfume, the same way that they each added one note to the symphony.
Ever since that night Maria had been trying to blend her essential oils in a way that would re-create the perfume of the connection.
She rubbed a few drops of the eucalyptus oil on her wrist and sniffed it. Yeah, that was definitely the scent Michael gave off. Tangy, sharp. It almost burned if you breathed it in too deeply.
Maria pulled the top off the vial of rose oil and smelled it. Rose, that was her scent. Her contribution to the perfume that filled the cave. Soft and sweet. Maybe a little too sweet?
She sighed. She wished her fragrance was more exotic, like the ylang-ylang Liz gave off. Or more spicy, like Isabel's cinnamon scent.
Maria added a few drops of the rose oil to her wrist, blending it with the eucalyptus. The combination was . . . unique, that was for sure. But she liked it. The sweetness of the rose took the edge off the eucalyptus, and the eucalyptus made the rose a little more interesting.
Hmmm. She wondered what Michael would think if she explained how their scents complemented each other. It would probably go right over his pointy little head. Guys were so literal. He could totally miss the fact that she wasn't really talking about perfume at all.
Maria heard a rustling sound outside her window. "Kevin, you're supposed to be in bed," she yelled.
Her little brother, Kevin, had just entered a particularly annoying stage. He liked to pretend he was one of the Hardy Boys or something. He was always snooping around, spying on her. She had started changing her diary's hiding place every day just to be on the safe side. If Kevin ever got his hands on it, he'd be spouting off the juicy parts to anyone who would listen. Not that there were as many juicy parts as she would like, but still.
Her window slid open. "Who's Kevin?" Michael asked as he climbed inside.
"My brother. What are you doing here?" Maria blurted. She hadn't even thought Michael knew where she lived.
"I figured you might be nervous. You know, because of the whole weird power thing going on," Michael said. He flopped down onto her bed, looking totally out of place on her flowered comforter. It was like G.I. Joe had stormed a Barbie Dream House.
"So are you?" he asked.
"Am I what?" Maria was having a little trouble concentrating.
"Nervous," Michael said.
Well, my heart is pounding a couple hundred miles an hour, Maria thought. But it had nothing to do with the whole weird power thing. It had to do with Michael.
Liz would probably have some scientific reason for why Maria's heart was doing a slam dance in her chest and for why the little spaces between her fingers were suddenly all sweaty. Something about hormones or pheromones or whatever. But Liz would be wrong. There was nothing clinical or scientific about the way Maria felt when Michael was around.
"Did I wake you up or something?" Michael asked. "You seem sort of out of it."
Oh, God. I've been standing here staring at him with my mouth hanging open, she realized. "Urn, no, I just—," she stammered. She took a deep breath and started again. "Nervous? I wasn't really nervous. Should I be?"
Michael grinned at her. "Not with me around."
Maria giggled.
Michael sat up. "What?"
Maria laughed louder.
"What?"
"Not with me around," she repeated in a deep, gruff voice. "Why don't you . . ." Her words dissolved in another burst of giggles. "Why don't you . . . just flex your muscles and call me babe and get it over with."
"How about missy, or little lady, or . . . or princess." Michael cracked up.
"Princess Maria. I almost like that," she answered. She wiped her face with the neck of her T-shirt. Her T-shirt.
Maria's heart stopped. Oh no. She'd been having this whole conversation dressed in one of her dad's old T-shirts and a pair of panties. And that's it. She felt her cheeks turn red. At least the T-shirt was long. As long as some dresses—some very short dresses.
She jerked open the middle drawer of her dresser and pulled out a pair of sweats. Should she take them into the bathroom and put them on or just put them on right here or what?
"Uh, it's cold in here. I'm just going to—" She yanked the sweats on, feeling totally self-conscious. Why did it feel weird to put on more clothes in front of a guy?
She took a quick peek at Michael. He wasn't even watching. He was checking out all the aromatherapy vials on the bed. Maria frowned. It's not like she'd wanted him to be staring at her. But it would be nice if he noticed that she'd been standing in front of him half naked. Like, hello. She wasn't his little sister.
"So, uh, since you're not nervous about the weird power thing, I guess I should just take off," Michael said.
"No!" Maria exclaimed. "I mean, I, um . . . I do have a need for a big strong man. My mom? She's out on a date, if you can believe that. And I rented this old movie that's supposed to be really creepy. But if I watch it with only my little brother in the house, I know I'll get all freaked out and start hearing noises and stuff."
"That won't happen—not with me around." Michael smirked at her.
Maria felt another bout of the giggles coming on, but she managed to restrain herself. "So you'll stay?" Maria asked.
"Why not?" Michael answered. "I like scary movies." He pulled off his boots and dropped them on the floor. Then he shoved a couple of pillows against the headboard and leaned back.
This was so weird. Michael was acting like they hung out all the time. But they'd never actually been alone together. Maria was glad he felt so comfortable around her, except the fact that he felt so comfortable sort of reinforced the feeling she had that he saw her as a little sister/buddy/nothing remotely romantic.
"Do you want to call your parents? My phone's right over there," Maria told him.
"Nah," he said. "They don't care what time I get home. It's sort of like how teachers don't really care about homework the last week of school."
"I don't get it." Maria shook her head.
"Oh yeah, I keep forgetting to tell everyone." Michael suddenly got very busy moving her aromatherapy vials from the bed to the nightstand. "I'm going to be moving foster homes in a couple of days."
"Oh." That seemed like a pretty major thing to "forget" to talk about. Maria wondered what the story was. But if Michael wanted her to know, he'd tell her, right? She grabbed the movie off her desk and popped it into the VCR. The first of the billion previews came on.
She sat down on the bed next to Michael. Then she grabbed a pillow and stretched out. If he was going to be totally casual about lounging around on her bed, she wasn't going to act like it was a big thing. Even though being so close to him made her body feel like there was a big spring inside it, all tightly wound.
"So are you packed and everything?" she asked.
"I will be. I know the drill. It's no biggie." He stared at the TV as if the preview were the most interesting thing he'd ever seen.
No big deal. Right. I believe that, Maria thought. She couldn't imagine what it must be like moving from home to home, new "parents" at every stop. She was living in the house where she grew up. Her mom and her brother were right there with her, same as always. Although it still felt horrible that her dad wasn't there with them. After the divorce he'd only moved across town, but it felt as if everything in her life changed.
"It hasn't even started, and I'm nervous already," Maria said. "If my mom isn't home when it's over, do you think you could crash here? I have a sleeping bag in the closet."
Maria knew for a fact her mother wouldn't be home when the movie ended. Which meant Michael wouldn't have to spend a night in a place where he obviously didn't want to be.
"Sure. You don't have a thing to worry about, missy," he answered. He gave a loud sniff. "Do you smell something funny? Like cough drops and flowers?"
"Yeah," she answered. "I think it smells good. It's a weird combination—but it works."

—=(5)=—

Isabel tightened her arms around Nikolas and pressed her cheek against his back. She had no idea where he was taking her, and she didn't care. She knew she should care, but she just didn't. She closed her eyes and lost herself in the sensations—the smell of Nikolas's leather jacket, the heat of his body soaking into hers, the warm desert air blowing her hair away from her face.
Max would have a fit if he knew she was out riding around in the desert with some guy she barely knew. Michael would, too. Actually, so would Alex, but for a whole different reason.
But there was no way she could have let Nikolas just walk away from her. From the second she'd gazed up into his golden eyes, she felt drawn to him. As if she'd been looking for him her whole life, even though she hadn't realized she'd been looking for anything at all.
Isabel couldn't believe she was having all these gooey, mushy thoughts. She was starting to sound like Tish, the girl who thought that Certs commercials were romantic. She reminded herself that Nikolas was just a guy and that all guys were basically alike. Totally predictable. Totally easy to manipulate. Fun to play with, yeah. But nothing to get all in knots about.
There was only one little problem with the speech she had just given herself. Isabel had gone out with a lot of guys and flirted with a lot more, but none of them had made her feel the way Nikolas did. None of them made her knees go all soft just by looking at her. And that meant Nikolas was different from any guy she'd ever met.
But that didn't mean she had to let him know that. She opened her eyes and sat up a little straighter. She left her arms wrapped around Nikolas's waist. That was okay. That was necessary. She didn't want to go tumbling off the motorcycle or anything.
Isabel tried to focus on the scenery flying by. She wanted to get her mind off Nikolas for a while. The cave! she thought, realizing where they were. Nikolas is heading right toward the cave.
Suddenly Isabel remembered Max and Michael saying that someone on a motorcycle had been following them a few nights ago when they were doing one of their searches for their parents' spaceship. Was that Nikolas?
Why would he follow them? Who was he?
This was so stupid, Isabel thought. What if Nikolas is working for Project Clean Slate? What if he's working for Valenti? What if he knows the truth about me? Her heart began to pound. She could feel it beating in her throat, hear it thudding in her ears.
Nikolas sped right up to the crack in the desert floor that opened into the cave. He brought the motorcycle to a squealing stop. He climbed off the bike and lowered himself into the cave without even glancing at Isabel.
She thought about taking the motorcycle back into town and telling the others what had happened. All she had to do was just rev it up and go, leaving Nikolas far behind.
But that would be giving Nikolas way too much power. Besides, if he worked for Valenti, he wouldn't leave her up here by herself, giving her the chance to escape. Right?
Isabel jumped off the motorcycle and swung herself into the cave. When her toes hit the big rock she used as a stepping-stone, she let go, caught her balance, then hopped down to the cave floor. She crossed her arms and stared at Nikolas. "I'm waiting."
He laughed. "Does that usually work for you?" he asked. "Do the human guys quiver in their sneakers when you give them a little of your attitude?"
Isabel did not believe this. Didn't Nikolas know the rules? Didn't he know he should be trying to impress her? Didn't he know that she could have any guy she wanted and that it was his job to make her want him?
Wait a minute, Isabel thought. Did he just say human guys?
Nikolas crouched down and ran his hands over the metallic surface of the incubation pod Isabel and Max had shared. "Bigger than mine," he muttered.
"Than yours?" she repeated. Nikolas was trying to get her to believe he was an alien, too. But that was impossible. There were no other aliens. She struggled to act calm. She needed to think. She needed to figure out what was going on here.
Could this all be a big setup? she thought wildly. Was Nikolas working for Project Clean Slate? Was his assignment to pretend to be an alien so that he could get information out of her?
Isabel took a few steps toward the mouth of the cave, ready to bolt. But that would look totally suspicious if Nikolas was some kind of agent trying to figure out if she was an alien. Just act like you have no idea what he's talking about, she ordered herself.
Nikolas straightened up. He studied her coolly. "I can feel the fear pouring off you. I'm disappointed, Isabel. I thought you'd be someone worth my time. Not a scared little mouse."
Could he feel her fear because he was another alien? Or was he just guessing?
"No, I'm the one who's disappointed," Isabel shot back. "Like I'm supposed to think this is fun. If you want to hang out with me, you have to do better."
She stared right at Nikolas, meeting his gaze directly. No matter what happened, she wasn't going to give him any clue that she knew about the cave or the pods or anything else.
Nikolas raised his eyebrows. "That was almost convincing. Except, like I said, I can feel your fear. You really should learn to block your emotions. I bet you can't feel a thing coming off me."
"Isabel's bored. Isabel's leaving." She turned away from him. She had to get out of there. She needed to go home and discuss this with Max, Michael, Liz, Maria, and Alex. They would help her figure out what Nikolas's game was. And then they would come up with a plan to deal with him.
"What about all your questions?" Nikolas asked. "Didn't you want to ask me something about my dream? You know, the one you just walked into, uninvited."
The dream. It was the dream of another alien. Isabel hesitated.
"The second I got back, I felt you," Nikolas whispered from behind her. "I had to meet you. If you hadn't come walking into my dream, I would have come into yours." Nikolas stepped over the rock next to Isabel. He sat down and pulled her down next to him.
"Got back from where?" Isabel asked. Her heart was still pounding, but somehow she didn't know whether it was from fear or from the excitement of feeling him so close to her.
Nikolas didn't answer.
"Look. I know you said you don't like questions," she said. "But if you want me to stay, you've got to start talking. Your choice."
"Okay, okay," Nikolas said. "I broke out of my pod first. I waited for a while, but I got cold and hungry. I left the cave. I dragged my pod with me—my own little security blanket. I got adopted. My family moved to California a few months later," he said in a singsong voice. "A few months ago I started getting these dreams and visions. I knew I had to come back. So I arranged it. And here I am. Happy?"
Isabel stared at him, shocked. A Project Clean Slate agent might have been able to come up with that whole story. But if so, they knew a lot more about the aliens than Isabel had ever imagined.
Nikolas's golden brown eyes narrowed as he stared at her. "Don't you believe me?" he murmured.
Isabel could think of only one way to test him.
Slowly she reached out and touched Nikolas's face. She took a deep breath, trying to form a connection. Once they were connected, she would be able to see Nikolas's memories. She would know the truth.
Nikolas knocked her hand away and sprang to his feet. "What the hell are you doing? You think I'm just going to let you open my head and take a look around?"
So he knew she was trying to form a connection. And he knew about the pods. And he knew about dream walking. "You're telling the truth, aren't you?" she whispered. "You really are one of us."
"Well, duh."
Isabel shook her head, trying to clear away the confusion that seemed to be clouding her thoughts. Another alien. Another one of them.
Just like she had always dreamed.
"I'm sorry I tried to connect without asking or anything. It's just . . . I thought you might be with Project Clean Slate," Isabel explained in a rush.
Nikolas sat back down. "I don't even know what that is."
"It's a government agency that was formed to track down aliens living on Earth," Isabel said. Suddenly the confusion was gone. Suddenly she wanted to tell him everything. He was one of them! Practically family. She felt as though she had to explain her entire life to him, the life with Max and Michael that Nikolas had missed, growing up alone. "Sheriff Valenti—the Roswell sheriff—he's one of them," she added. "He's looking for us."
She glanced over at Nikolas, trying to gauge his reaction. When she'd found out the truth about Valenti, it had terrified her.
"So that's why you were so scared. Because you thought I was an alien hunter or something?" Nikolas asked.
"Yeah," she answered. "You've got to be careful, Nikolas. Really, really careful. You have to stop using your powers. Even little stuff like what you did to the mascot or to my golf ball. That was you, right?"
Nikolas nodded. But he didn't look upset. Isabel wondered if he was in shock or something.
"I don't get it," Nikolas said.
"I know. When I found out they were watching for us, I was blown away. But if you're careful, then—"
"No. That's not what I mean," Nikolas interrupted. His golden brown eyes burned with intensity. "I don't get why you're afraid of Valenti—or anyone else. I mean, they're only humans. How can you even think that one of them could hurt you? You're the one with the power."
Isabel blinked in surprise. I'm the one with the power. The thought repeated itself over and over. I'm the one with the power.
Nikolas was right. Why was she so frightened of Valenti when she was the one with the power?
Isabel felt all her muscles begin to relax. Muscles she hadn't even realized were tense. I got so used to being afraid, she thought. It started feeling normal to me.
"This is so amazing," she whispered. Impulsively she reached for Nikolas's hand. "We didn't know . . . we thought we were the only ones. It never even occurred to us that there might be another one of us. You have to meet Max and Michael."
"I started thinking I might be wrong about you and Max and Michael," Nikolas told her. "I've been watching you for a couple of weeks, and you never used your powers. Now I know why. I still can't believe you let some human scare you. And there are three of you. I could take on Valenti by myself, easy. So could you."
An image of Valenti lying on the ground at Isabel's feet, begging for mercy, flashed into Isabel's mind. She smiled.
"Max believes in being careful," Isabel answered.
"Careful. Is that what you call it? What a waste." Nikolas reached for a strand of Isabel's blond hair and slowly twirled it around his finger. "You're lucky I showed up, Isabel," he murmured. "Someone needs to teach you what your powers are for."

——===——

Alex glanced across the quad. Isabel and that new guy Nikolas were still over by the pecan tree, talking. Talking and standing very close together.
"Can I have some of your pork rinds?" Max asked.
"Yeah. Sure. Whatever." Alex shoved the bag at him without looking away from Isabel. Max, Liz, Michael, and Maria probably thought he was pathetic. And they were right. He knew he should stop staring at Isabel like some kind of stalker. But he couldn't. It was physically impossible.
It was the hair. He knew it. Red hair could look amazing on girls. But there was no guy equivalent. Just a bunch of clowns with, like, orange hair.
If Alex didn't have red hair, Isabel wouldn't be over there with Nikolas. She'd be sitting right here, next to him. Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, Alex thought.
Alex shot another quick look at Isabel and Nikolas. They were heading over. Oh, great. Now he was going to be tortured up close while he was trying to eat lunch.
"Hey, guys." Isabel squeezed into the circle between Michael and Maria. She grabbed Nikolas's hand and pulled him down next to her. Alex noticed she wasn't too quick about letting go of his hand, either.
Isabel did a quick introduction. She basically talked directly to Alex's ear when she got to him. It's worse than I thought, Alex realized. She can't even stand to look me in the eye.
It's not like he and Isabel were going out or anything. But he'd gotten the impression that she thought something was happening between them. He definitely felt something when they were together, something special.
Alex caught Liz and Maria exchanging one of those significant looks girls give each other. It was pretty clear that they thought it was uncool of Isabel to show up with another guy when Alex was right there. But they were his friends before Michael, Max, and Isabel ever joined their group. Of course they would side with him.
"We've got something to tell you," Isabel said. She sounded all breathy and excited. Not at all the way she usually did.
I feel like one of the guests on some dumb talk show, Alex thought. I know there's no way I'm going to like what I'm about to hear.
"Nikolas is one of us," Isabel announced, glancing back and forth between Max and Michael. "His parents were on the spaceship, too. He broke out of his incubation pod before we did and got adopted. His family moved away before he started school. That's why we didn't know."
Alex felt as if he'd been punched in the gut. Oh, man. Nikolas didn't just have brown hair. He was an alien, too. There was no way Alex could compete.
For a moment everyone just stared at Nikolas.
"Wow, you must have been so lonely," Maria finally said. "At least Max, Isabel, and Michael had each other."
"I don't buy it," Michael said before Nikolas could respond. He turned to Isabel. "I can't believe you just brought this guy over without talking to us first. He could be anyone. He could work for Valenti. What were you thinking, Isabel?"
Alex's first impulse was to defend Isabel. But he wasn't sure she would want that from him right now.
"I didn't believe him right away, either," Isabel answered. "But I went into Nikolas's dream. He has the same memories we do—of the home planet. And he knew exactly where our cave was."
Max shook his head. "I don't care—I can't feel his emotions like I feel yours and Michael's. I think he's lying."
Nikolas snorted. "You guys are pathetic. You've been so busy not using your powers that you don't even know what powers you have! Don't you know how to block your emotions? You don't feel me because I don't want you to feel me."
"That's a pretty convenient excuse," Michael muttered.
"If you don't believe me, I could just use my powers to set that tree on fire," Nikolas told Michael.
"Didn't Isabel warn you not to use your powers?" Max asked, his voice low and urgent.
"See, he's definitely lying. We can't use our power to set fires," Michael said at the same time.
Nikolas rolled his eyes.
"Nikolas's power is a lot more developed than ours," Isabel explained. "He's going to give me some lessons."
Look how fast she jumps in to defend him, Alex thought. And look how obvious it is that she plans on spending a lot more time with him.
"I don't want you taking any lessons from him," Max told Isabel. "I don't want either of you using your power at all."
"You know what? I don't really care what you want," Nikolas shot back.
"Uh, this isn't the part where you challenge each other to some kind of battle to the death, is it?" Alex asked. "'Cause if it is, I want to get out of the way. This is a new shirt, and my mom will freak if I come home with any blood or brain matter on it."
Nikolas and Max both ignored him. Which was probably a good thing. He didn't think he really wanted to find himself in the middle of something with those two. Alex could hold his own in a fight. Growing up with three older brothers had made sure of that. But none of his brothers had alien power.
"If you use your power, you put us all in danger," Michael said. Alex noticed the muscles in Michael's neck knotting up. He was not too thrilled with Nikolas. And Alex couldn't help feeling a little happy about that.
"Didn't Isabel tell you about Sheriff Valenti?" Max asked. "The guy's mission in life is to track down aliens."
"And he works for an organization called Project Clean Slate," Michael added. "So it's not likely that he's looking for us just to say hi."
Nikolas stared back and forth between Michael and Max. "Wait. Am I getting this? I knew Isabel was afraid. But you two are also scared of a human? That's like being afraid of a fly. If this Valenti guy gets too close, I'll just squash him."
"Nikolas is right," Isabel insisted. "Why are we so scared of Valenti? We have the power. He doesn't."
"I can't believe I'm hearing this." Liz spoke up for the first time. Her dark eyes glittered with anger. "Valenti isn't a fly. He's dangerous to all of us." She turned to Nikolas. "You don't know him. We do. We know what he's capable of. You have to listen to what he did to me. He—"
"I don't listen to insects."
Liz's head snapped back as if she had been slapped. Maria's face grew pale.
Nikolas stood up and strode across the quad.
What a complete and total jerk, Alex thought. At least Isabel got to find out the truth about him right away.
But Isabel jumped to her feet and followed Nikolas without even glancing at any of them.
"I can't believe she did that!" Michael burst out. "I cannot believe she just plopped down and said, 'Oh, hi, this is Nikolas. He's an alien, too.'"
"She should have come to us first. Alone," Max agreed. "It's like it doesn't even occur to her that this is something that involves all six of us. That guy Nikolas could put us all in danger. What is she thinking?"
It's pretty obvious what she's thinking, Alex answered silently. She's thinking she wants the brown-haired boy. And I'm guessing that's much more than okay with him.

——===——

"Hey, Nikolas, wait up," Isabel called.
Stacey walked out of the bathroom in time to see Isabel trotting after Nikolas. Her lips turned up in a smug little smile. "Don't think you've won our bet," she said softly. "I saw you in the quad, and it looked like you were holding his hand, not the other way around." She wagged her finger in Isabel's face. "That doesn't count."
"Oh, shut up, Stacey," Isabel muttered. She continued after Nikolas, but she slowed down a little. It was too humiliating to be seen literally chasing a guy. That was not her style.
Nikolas stopped at his locker. Isabel forced herself to walk over to the drinking fountain and take a few sips. Then when she figured she wouldn't look pathetically eager, she wandered over and leaned against the locker next to Nikolas's.
"Max worries. He can't help himself. I think it's a big-brother thing," she said. "Michael's totally protective, too."
"Us worrying about some sheriff is like a general with a nuclear warhead worrying about a kid with a BB gun," Nikolas said.
When Isabel was a little girl, she used to have nightmares where Sheriff Valenti was a big wolf chasing her. He kept getting closer and closer, his long, sharp teeth dripping saliva. Even when she got older, she couldn't shake the feeling that someday he was going to capture her, lock her away somewhere, and do all kinds of hideous tests on her—ending up with her on some dissecting table.
"I really want you to teach me how to build up my power," Isabel said. "I want to be able to do what you said—squash Valenti like a fly if I have to."
She didn't care what Max said. Because Nikolas was right. With her power she could be the strong one. She would love to give Valenti a few nightmares about her. She would love to stop being careful.
She would also love having an excuse to spend some time around Nikolas. No, make that a lot of time.
Nikolas slammed his locker shut. "I think I can fit you in," he told her. His eyes traveled slowly up her body from the tips of her boots to her face and lingered on her lips.
"Um, cool," Isabel stammered. She tried not to stare at his mouth. But it looked so kissable. When was Nikolas going to kiss her? If he didn't make his move soon, she'd just have to do it herself.
"Well, we're all going to a movie tonight. You should come," she added. Isabel didn't usually ask guys out. In fact, she never asked guys out. She liked to make them work for it a little.
But Nikolas was new in town. He didn't know anyone. And besides, she felt like she was addicted to him. She couldn't stand the idea of going through the whole weekend without seeing him.
"Does we include your human friends?" Nikolas asked.
"Yeah. I know it's weird having humans know the truth about us. It really freaked me out at first," Isabel said quickly. "But the three of them totally came through for Max and Michael and me. They helped us get Valenti off our trail."
"They aren't even the same species as us. And they smell funny," Nikolas answered. "Sitting in some movie with a crowd of them doesn't sound like fun to me."
"Come on. You've never had one human friend?" Isabel asked.
"Nope, but I did have a dog once," Nikolas said. "Hanging out with humans is probably part of the reason your power is dull. You spend too much time with them, you start thinking like one of them, then you start believing you're one of them."
Isabel thought about trying to convince him he was wrong, then decided to skip it. Things were just starting up between them. She didn't want to risk blowing everything with a stupid fight.
Nikolas would get to know Alex, Maria, and Liz eventually. And when he did, he'd change his mind. He had to.

—=(6)=—

Max knew Liz was coming down the hall behind him. He wasn't sure exactly how he knew, but he definitely did. Maybe he picked up on some little things—like the sound of her footsteps or the smell of her shampoo—and processed them on a subliminal level.
He glanced over his shoulder. Yeah, there she was, striding down the hall like she had somewhere very important to be. Liz always walked like that no matter where she was heading.
"You want a ride home?" he called. Because he hadn't had enough of those totally awkward, numb-brained, tongue-tied moments with Liz.
"Actually, I'm going to the Crashdown," Liz answered as she caught up to him. "Papa still hasn't figured out how to do the work schedules on the computer, so I have to show him again."
Liz spent a ton of time at her family's alien-theme restaurant. Back when he had a total crush on her and she was only thinking of him as her lab partner, Max used to eat at the Crashdown Cafe constantly just to give himself a little more Liz time. He'd hang out, watching her, pretending he wasn't watching her. Now doing that would be too weird for both of them.
"So . . . Nikolas," Liz said as they headed out of the building and over to the parking lot.
"Yeah. Nikolas. I'm sorry he was such a jerk. What he said about humans? That was totally unacceptable," Max said. "And Isabel didn't even open her mouth to tell him how wrong he was. I couldn't believe that."
"Max, you shouldn't be apologizing for Nikolas," Liz answered. "Just because he's an alien, too, doesn't mean you're responsible for him."
Max shook his head. "I think we're all going to have to be responsible for him. If he uses his powers the wrong way, Sheriff Valenti will go after him . . . and that's dangerous for everyone," Max said. "Any ideas?"
"I know," Liz said. "I'll throw Nikolas a surprise welcome-to-Roswell party. He'll be so touched that he'll realize I'm not really an insect."
Max snorted. "That's better than my plan."
"Which is?"
"I don't have one," he admitted. And he needed one. He couldn't let this thing with Nikolas get out of control.
They climbed in the Jeep, and Max pulled out of the parking lot. "There has to be a way to convince him how dangerous Sheriff Valenti is," Liz said. "I know Nikolas thinks he could just use his power to kill Valenti, but he's forgetting that Valenti is "part of an organization. If a Project Clean Slate agent ends up dead, I'm sure there would be some kind of investigation, and more agents would show up here."
"You know that, and I know that, but I don't get the feeling that Nikolas is someone who responds to a logical argument," Max answered.
"Maybe we could talk to Isabel, and she could talk to Nikolas," Liz suggested.
"Yeah, because we all know how logical and rational Isabel is," Max said. His sister hated being told what to do. She really believed rules didn't apply to her. Yeah, she'd been careful with her power lately. But that was only because she was still a little flipped out about what happened with Valenti. Now that Nikolas had convinced her that she shouldn't be afraid of the sheriff, Max wasn't sure what she would do. But he thought Isabel and Nikolas made a very dangerous combination.
"Nikolas obviously made it this far without anyone finding out the truth about him," Liz said. "So he can't be totally reckless."
"Unless he just squashed everyone who got close to figuring it out," Max answered.
"I think an alien killing spree would have made the news," Liz answered.
Max suddenly realized that he and Liz were actually having a conversation. He said something, she said something, he said something else. No awkward pauses.
He pulled his Jeep up in front of the cafe. Liz reached out and touched his arm, and he felt a jolt go through his body.
"Max, I know you," she said. "I know you're thinking that this whole Nikolas-and-Isabel situation is something you have to solve. That it's somehow your responsibility to make sure nothing bad happens. But you can't control everything. You'll make yourself crazy if you try."
"It's just that if they do go wild and start using their power, we could all end up in danger again," he said.
"And if that happens, we'll all figure out what to do about it. Together," Liz told him.
Max nodded. Suddenly he was back to not knowing what to say.
Liz gathered up her purse and backpack, then hesitated. "Uh, do you think you'll be able to go to the movies with all of us tonight?" she asked, not quite meeting his gaze.
Max didn't know if he'd be able to deal with a movie. What if he ended up sitting next to Liz? He didn't think he could survive two hours next to her in the dark without touching her.
Well, he wouldn't have to test himself tonight. "I can't make it. I'm starting my new job," Max said.
"Oh. Well. I hope it goes great." Liz jumped out of the Jeep. "Thanks for the ride."
Max pulled back out into the street and drove the two blocks to the UFO museum. Maybe once he'd worked there a little while, he would suggest doing some kind of deal with the Crashdown. Like if you brought in your museum ticket, you got a free dessert or something.
He shook his head as he pulled into the museum parking lot. He was doing it again. Without even trying, he took everything he saw or read or heard and found a way to connect it back to Liz. Like he was on the way to the museum, so he linked the museum to the Crashdown Cafe because they both had to do with aliens, and then it was easy to connect the Crashdown to Liz because she worked there and her parents owned the place. And that's how he came up with the idea of doing some kind of deal between the museum and the cafe.
Pathetic, he thought.
Max checked his watch. Time to go inside. He climbed out of the Jeep. His new boss, Ray Iburg, had seemed cool at his interview. And working in the museum had to be more fun than his last job—doing research for his dad. Maybe if his dad were a criminal lawyer, it might have been kind of interesting. But his dad did all this environmental law, and Max was sick of reading about oil spills.
He walked through the museum doors, and a white jumpsuit came flying at him. A white jumpsuit covered with rhinestones.
"Your uniform," Ray Iburg called.
"Thanks, Mr. Iburg," Max said. "I'm really looking forward to working here."
"Ray, you have to call me Ray," he answered. "Otherwise I'll feel like I'm a hundred years old."
Max wondered how old Ray was. His hair was kind of thinning on top, and it had some gray in it. But his skin looked like it could be in the "after" part of a pimple cream commercial. It was clear and smooth. Max didn't even see one wrinkle.
"I've decided that it's time for the museum to do a full and thorough exploration of the Elvis-alien connection," Ray said. "That's why I got the new uniforms. I thought we could draw on some sideburns, too. Or maybe I could make some out of carpet remnants. . . ."
Max nodded as if he had a clue what his new boss was talking about. It was his first day. He wanted to make a decent impression.
"I started a big display around a blowup of that photo of Mars," Ray continued.
"Mars," Max repeated. Was the guy insane? Had he just gotten a job working for a complete lunatic?
"You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?" Ray asked.
"Uh, no," Max admitted. "I guess I'll have to do some reading or something."
"There are amazing pictures of the surface of Mars that show a gigantic rock formation sculpted to look like Elvis's face. At least that's what some people think," Ray explained. "Carl Sagan had a great quote about it. He said, 'Out of the billions and billions of rocks on Mars, this one just happens to resemble the King. I grudgingly admit this may be a sign of not highly intelligent life but aliens with low standards of entertainment.'"
Max felt a bray of laughter building up inside him. He tried to hold it down. He didn't want to offend Ray.
Ray slapped him on the shoulder. "It's okay to laugh," he said. "I laugh about this stuff all the time." He glanced around the museum. "Just try and contain yourself when you're talking to the people who come here. They take it all very seriously."
"Right," Max said. He thought he was going to like this job. Ray seemed pretty cool.
"Go try on your jumpsuit. I want to see if it fits okay," Ray told him. "There's a bathroom in the back."
Max headed off with the sparkly jumpsuit, reminding himself never to let any of his friends meet him at work. They would laugh their heads off if they saw him dressed up like Elvis.
Elvis. How could he make a connection between Liz and Elvis? She didn't have a hound dog. He thought she had some blue shoes, but not suede ones.
I am totally obsessed, he thought. I have to get a life.

——===——

"So what are we going to see?" Maria asked.
"How about that new movie that has Freddy and Jason in it," Michael suggested. He sat crammed between Maria and Liz in the backseat of Alex's Rabbit. Not that he was complaining.
"It looks scary," Maria said.
That was exactly why Michael suggested it. Watching that horror movie at Maria's had been fun. She got so into it, screaming and practically digging holes in his arm with her fingernails.
"You don't have to be nervous with me around," Michael teased.
"Liz hates horror movies," Maria said. "She's too scientific. She's always like, 'If someone got chopped with an ax that many times, they would absolutely be dead.'"
"So what do you want to see, Liz?" he asked.
She didn't answer. She just kept staring out the window with her forehead pressed against the glass.
Maria turned to him and mouthed the word Max. He nodded. He should have recognized that lovesick look. He saw it on Max's face all the time.
"What about you two?" Michael asked Isabel and Alex.
"Whatever," Isabel answered. She continued painting her nails a pale green. Michael wasn't sure why. Who wanted green fingernails?
"I don't care," Alex said.
Michael and Maria exchanged a look. Alex and Isabel both usually had strong opinions about what to see and didn't mind giving them to everyone very loudly. Alex even had a whole list of movies he refused ever to see. He called it the S list. He refused to go to any movie any critic described as sensitive, any movie with subtitles, and any movie with Meryl Streep. There were a bunch of other ones, but Michael couldn't remember them.
"O-kay, then," Michael said. "Freddy and Jason."
He had a pretty good idea why Alex and Isabel were both so quiet. He would bet anything they were both thinking about Nikolas—for totally different reasons.
Michael wondered if Nikolas would end up being part of their group, going to the movies with them and stuff. He couldn't really see it. Nikolas had been way out of line with Liz at lunch. He would have to do some major apologizing, and some major attitude adjusting about humans, before he would be able to hang out with them.
It could happen, Michael thought. It had sort of happened to him. Before the night that Max formed the connection between the six of them, Michael had had no interest in hanging out with humans.
He never thought of them as insects or anything, the way Nikolas seemed to. He'd had no problem joining a pickup basketball game with some of them or even flirting a little with a cute human girl.
But before the connection Michael never had a human he thought of as a friend. And now "friend" didn't seem quite strong enough to describe how he felt about Maria, Liz, and Alex. They were more like his family, totally there for him. He never thought he'd feel that way about anybody but Max and Isabel.
This family of friends—that's why he could move from foster home to foster home without it ripping him up. He didn't need his foster families for support or love or whatever. He already had that. He'd always had that from Max. And of course from Isabel. But now he had it from three humans. The fact that Maria, Liz, and Alex had become part of his family so fast just blew him away.
He would have thought he'd form that kind of a bond with another alien almost immediately. Just because they had the same species memories, the same genetic code. Just because neither of them belonged here. But Nikolas seemed to have no interest in even talking to him or Max. It was as if everything they shared meant nothing to him. He only seemed interested in Isabel.
Michael gazed at Izzy in the front seat. She didn't belong with a guy like Nikolas. She was way too good for him, no matter what planet he came from.
Alex pulled into the mall's parking lot. Maria and Michael climbed out, but nobody else made a move to get out of the car. Michael glanced at Maria and shook his head. They should have gone to the movie with three zombies. It probably would have been more fun.
"Please collect all your belongings from the overhead compartments, and thank you for flying with us," Maria said as she opened Alex's door.
Michael leaned back into the car and opened Liz's door. "Buh-bye," he said. She gave him a little smile and got out of the car.
He and Maria led the way across the parking lot. Michael kept wanting to check behind him to make sure Alex, Isabel, and Liz were keeping up. He felt like he was leading a kindergarten field trip or something.
A motorcycle engine roared behind them. "Uh-oh," Maria muttered.
Michael turned around—and saw Nikolas speeding across the parking lot. Heading right toward them.
He shot a glance at Isabel. She was trying to look semi-uninterested. But he could tell she was totally psyched Nikolas had showed up.
I really have to talk to her about this jerk, Michael thought.
Nikolas squealed to a halt alongside them. He didn't say a word. He just held out his hand to Isabel. Before Michael could do anything, before he could even decide what he wanted to do, Isabel hopped on the bike and Nikolas roared off.
"Whoa," Maria said.
"I don't like this," Alex mumbled.
Big surprise there, Michael thought. But he didn't like it, either. He didn't like the idea of Isabel being alone with Nikolas. Yeah, Nikolas was an alien. He was one of them. But that didn't mean Isabel should automatically trust him.
Michael definitely didn't.

—=(7)=—

"Do you care if I cut this up?" Maria picked up a magazine from Liz's dresser.
As soon as they got back from the movies they had dissected the whole Isabel-Nikolas-Alex situation. Then they had dissected the movie. Now Liz was working on her college applications and Maria was working on her nails. Maria loved the way she and Liz could just sit in the same room together, each doing their own thing, sometimes talking, sometimes not. You had to be really good friends with someone before it felt this comfortable to basically ignore them for long stretches of time.
"Sure. Should I ask why?" Liz asked. She stuck some stamps on the application package she was sending to UCLA.
"I saw this girl at the mall who had little words glued on each of her nails. I wanted to try it," Maria answered.
Liz powered up her computer and opened her chart of college applications. She typed dates in the application-mailed column for UCLA and Brown.
"So what words should I use?" Maria asked.
"You could spell out a ransom note," Liz suggested. "Don't kidnappers always use letters torn out of newspapers and stuff so the police can't identify them by their handwriting?"
Maria threw a pillow at her. "Very funny. I was thinking more like some kind of subliminal message."
"Oh, like, 'I'm easy' and your phone number?" Liz teased.
"Ha. Ha. Ha. Let me know what weekend you'll be playing Vegas," Maria said.
Liz grabbed another magazine and flopped down on the bed next to Maria. "Maybe I'll do a subliminal message, too. Something that will get Max to give up this just friends deal."
"I'm surprised he hasn't cracked by now," Maria said. "If you could see the way he looks at you when he knows you're not watching . . . whoa."
Liz shook her head. "We're doing it again. We're talking about Max. I promised you I was going to give you a break."
"Talk about him as much as you want," Maria said. "I'll be sending you a bill." She snagged a pair of cuticle scissors off Liz's dresser and cut out the word love.
"We need to get you a guy so you'll have someone to complain about, too," Liz said. "I think Kyle Valenti is available."
"Kyle 'the octopus' Valenti?" Maria wrinkled up her nose. "You know, it's not the worst idea. I could go out with him and use my feminine allure to get all kinds of secret info on Sheriff Valenti."
Liz's expression turned all serious. "Promise me you would never do anything like that. Its way, way too dangerous."
"I promise. I promise the best friend promise," Maria said. The best friend promise was something Liz and Maria had made up in the fifth grade. Maria still had the list of horrible things that would happen to anyone who broke the "Superserious Absolutely Unbreakable Best Friend Promise."
"Good." Liz flipped a page in her magazine.
"Anyway, watching you and Max and Alex hasn't exactly made me wish I could fall for someone. It's not like I need more pain in my life. I mean, my mom is already going out on dates in my clothes."
"Alex did look pretty devastated when Isabel took off with Nikolas," Liz said.
"I'm surprised you noticed. You looked pretty deep in one of your where-oh-where-can-my-little-Max-be funks," Maria said.
"I noticed. Poor guy." Liz shot a glance at Maria. "I used to think maybe you and Alex . . ." She let her sentence trail off.
"Yeah, when he first moved to Roswell last year, I had a couple of moments where I thought maybe. But no. I mean, he's totally cute, and he's really funny. But he just doesn't do it for me, you know? He doesn't . . ." Maria shrugged.
"He doesn't make your heart go pitty-pat?" Liz suggested.
"Exactly."
The melancholy sounds of a Doors song started thrumming through the house. Liz could feel the floor vibrating with the beat. "I guess my parents are back," she said.
Maria frowned. "Is your dad okay?"
Maria had known Liz since the second grade. She had broken the code a long time ago. When Liz's papa was in a good mood, he listened to the Grateful Dead. The Dead was at the absolute top of his musical mood scale. The Doors were at the absolute bottom. And right now he was listening to The Doors.
"Rosa's birthday is tomorrow," Liz explained.
"Oh," Maria mumbled. "Yeah. I'm sorry. I should have remembered. Are you okay?"
Liz nodded. Her late sister's birthday didn't hit her the way it did her parents. Not because she didn't love Rosa. When she was a little girl, she adored Rosa and was always trying to get her attention. Classic big sister/little sister stuff.
It was just that she didn't think about Rosa more around her birthday. She thought about her the same amount as usual, which was a lot. Like every day.
There was this little voice in Liz's head that always whispered, "Don't turn out like Rosa." Sometimes the voice sounded like her mama, sometimes like her aunt Elena, sometimes like her abuelita, sometimes like one of her uncles or cousins. But most of the time it sounded like her papa.
And Liz worked very hard to make sure no one, not her papa or anyone else, had to be afraid she was going to overdose the way Rosa had when she was in high school. Liz was a straight-A student, and she'd probably end up class valedictorian. She put in a lot of hours at the cafe and saved most of the money she earned. She always remembered all her relatives' birthdays. She always called her parents when she was going to be late. She always remembered to floss even when she was really tired.
Liz glanced over at her computer. At the list of all the schools she'd applied to. Sometimes she couldn't wait to graduate and get out of town. To live in a place where no one knew anything about Rosa and no one ever worried that Liz was going to turn out just like her.
"Hey, you got so quiet. I'm sorry," Maria said. "I didn't mean to make you start thinking about sad stuff."
"You didn't. It's okay." Liz twisted her hair into a knot on the top of her head. "So what about Michael?" she asked. She wanted a big subject change immediatamente.
Maria's head jerked up. "Michael?"
"Yeah. We were done talking about your love life," Liz said.
"You mean lack of," Maria interrupted.
"And we already covered mine and Max's and Isabel's and Alex's," Liz continued. "That leaves Michael's. Do you think there's anybody he likes at school?"
Maria cut the word pain out of her magazine and carefully trimmed it. "Not that I know of," she answered. "Do you think Michael could even, I mean, would he want to, you know, go out with a human?"
"I guess he did used to keep away from humans," Liz said. "But that was before he really got to know the wonderful us."
"I wonder if 'the wonderful us' will convince Nikolas that humans are people, too," Maria commented.
"I'm not sure. I don't think Michael ever thought of us as insects," Liz answered. She shook her head, and her long, dark hair fell back down around her shoulders. "I've got a really bad feeling about Nikolas. I know Max is worried about him, too."
"What do you think Nikolas and Isabel are doing right now?" Maria asked. She painted her thumbnail with clear polish and carefully placed a scrap of paper on top.
"Whatever they're doing, I hope they're not using their power," Liz said. "I'm not ready to do a face-off with Valenti again."
"Do you think we should tell Max that Isabel took off with Nikolas?" Maria asked.
Liz thought about it. It would give her an excuse to call Max, hear his voice, torture herself a little. But there was nothing he could really do. There was nothing any of them could do if Nikolas and Isabel decided to go wild with their power.
"No," she said. "I mean, it's not like they're going to do anything illegal."

——===——

"Uh, do the words breaking and entering mean anything to you?" Isabel asked Nikolas.
"Human rules are for humans," he answered. "What? You've never used your power to pick a lock?" Nikolas glanced over his shoulder at her.
"I guess I've just lived a sheltered life," she answered.
"I can fix that," he said. A slow, lopsided grin spread across his face.
Isabel felt her stomach flip over. Oh yes. Nikolas definitely had it going on.
"Focus on the molecules of the bolt and squeeze them together. It's a no-brainer," Nikolas explained. He swung the door open and pulled Isabel inside.
The place smelted like . . . a bowling alley. Isabel thought bowling was basically disgusting. She'd only gone once, at some kid's birthday party when she was little. But she remembered the whole process was gross. You had to wear shoes that a bunch of stinky feet had been in before you. Even the holes in the bowling balls felt grimy. There were always little crumbs or dirt balls or something inside them.
The only reason she was here was because Nikolas wanted to go bowling, and Isabel wanted to be where Nikolas was. Which was a first. Guys always came to Isabel. But Nikolas is no ordinary guy, she reminded herself.
"I think those big bowling balls make it too easy. I use these." Nikolas wandered over to one of the pool tables and picked up a couple of the striped balls. He tossed her one, and she was surprised how heavy it was.
He pulled up the edge of his T-shirt to make sort of a bag and piled a bunch of the balls inside. Isabel tried not to stare at his stomach. It was hard and flat, with each group of muscles clearly defined. He was perfect. He wasn't too bulked up or too lean. Absolutely yummy.
"Come on," Nikolas said. He flipped on a row of light switches with his elbow and led the way over to the closest lane.
At least the pool balls don't have any grubby little holes, Isabel thought.
Nikolas dumped his pool balls on the polished wooden floor and stretched out on his stomach next to them. He grabbed one of the balls and slammed it down the lane. The pins went down with a loud clatter.
I forgot about the noise, Isabel thought. Another wonderful part of the whole bowling ambiance.
"Woo-hoo!" Nikolas yelled. "A strike for me."
Isabel smiled. Maybe there were a few ways Nikolas was an ordinary guy. It was kind of sweet. "You cheated, though," she told him. "I could feel you using your power to push the ball."
Nikolas sat up and shook his head at her. "Someone did a number on you," he said: "Why is using power cheating? We're born with it. Is it cheating for you to look as good as you do? You were born with that hair, and those eyes, and . . . everything else."
So, he did think she was pretty. Well, he better watch himself, or he was going to find himself one of those guys who followed Isabel around with drool running out of their mouths. She liked that idea—a lot.
"Max just thinks that using power is dangerous," Isabel said. He had drilled into her that her power was something that should only be used in an emergency. Of course, she used it a lot more often than that, but she always felt sort of guilty.
Nikolas snorted. "Max. Max needs to figure out that he's not human. He's never going to be human. And that is a very good thing."
He stretched back out on the floor. Isabel felt a power surge, and suddenly Nikolas went speeding down the lane, skimming about an inch above the wooden floor. He knocked down the pins with his head. He jumped to his feet. "Yeah! Could a human do that?"
Isabel shook her head. "Would a human want to do that?" she asked.
"You've got to try it," he said. "It's like flying."
Flying. Just being with Nikolas was like flying. She felt totally free with him. Free and light and shining. So completely different from the way she felt around Max and the others. Yeah, she cared about them, and she knew they cared about her. But sometimes it felt as if they were dragging her down with all their worries and cautions and carefulness.
"Are you going to try it or not?" Nikolas demanded.
"No way. That's like one step beyond crushing beer cans with your head, which is a pretty stupid human trick," Isabel said. Yeah, she had agreed to go bowling, but she had to draw the line somewhere. Besides, it wasn't good for Nikolas to get his way all the time.
"You shouldn't say no way to anything. You should try everything at least once," Nikolas said.
A second later Isabel found herself facedown, floating an inch above the floor, shooting straight toward the pins. "Nikolas, no!" she yelled. Just as her head was about to crash into the pins Isabel flew straight up into the air.
Nikolas swaggered down the lane and stared up at her. "Now tell me that wasn't fun," he said. And she felt herself being gently lowered to her feet.
"It was fun," she admitted. In fact, she'd never, felt anything like it—it had been like the world's most amazing roller coaster.
"I'm starving. Do they have a snack bar in this place?" Nikolas asked. He headed to the back of the alley. "Score. They have a soft-ice-cream machine." He vaulted over the wooden counter.
Isabel ducked under it. She reached for the light switch in the concession stand, but Nikolas stopped her. "It's more fun in the dark," he murmured.
Isabel shrugged. She could see better in the dark, anyway.
"Have you ever shotgunned ice cream?" he asked. He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the machine.
"Oh no. No," Isabel said. "I'm wearing a new shirt."
"So take it off," Nikolas challenged. He pulled off his T-shirt and threw it in the corner.
Isabel decided to wipe the little smirk off his face. It's not like her bra didn't cover as much as a bikini top, anyway. She unbuttoned her shirt buttons slowly, teasing him a little. He deserved it.
She felt a little stab of satisfaction when she noticed the muscles in Nikolas's throat working. Got you, didn't I? she thought. Well, it was only fair. Looking at Nikolas without his shirt was doing some interesting things to her, too.
"Okay, come sit on the floor and tilt your head under the spigot." Isabel noticed that Nikolas's voice sounded a little husky. And he was having about as much luck not checking out her breasts as she'd had keeping her eyes off his abs.
Nikolas grabbed a squirt bottle of mustard off the counter. "We can use this as a chaser."
"I can't believe I'm doing this," Isabel said. But she got into position under the machine and opened her mouth. Nikolas pulled down the spigot. The machine started to hum, then a big blob of ice cream plopped down on her. Some of it got into her mouth, but some of it got in her nose. She started to choke.
Nikolas shut off the machine and grabbed some napkins. He held Isabel's chin between his fingers and started wiping off her face. He could be so wild, so outrageous. But sometimes when he touched her, he was so totally gentle.
"Fun, huh?" he asked.
"Yeah, you have to try it." Isabel shoved Nikolas's head under the spigot and turned it on. He tilted back his head and caught some of the ice cream with his mouth. He squirted in some mustard after it.
"Is that a good combination?" Isabel asked. "I usually put Tabasco sauce."
"You want a taste?" Nikolas pulled Isabel over to him and kissed her. A kiss that she felt straight down to her toes. She ran her hands down his bare back. Hard muscles under soft, warm skin. Mmm.
Nikolas licked a dollop of ice cream off her nose. Then moved in for another kiss. Isabel pressed her hands against his chest. "Wait," she whispered.
"I don't like to wait," Nikolas said.
Isabel stared at him, falling deeper into his golden brown eyes. Her breath seemed to catch in her throat.
"Nikolas . . . ," she whispered as his mouth came down on hers once more.
"Hey!" a harsh voice yelled. "Who's back there?"
Isabel jerked away from Nikolas and peeked over the top of the counter. One of those rent-a-cop security guys stood there, squinting into the darkness.
"Stay here," Nikolas whispered.
He crawled to the end of the counter and started to circle behind the guard. Isabel could hardly stand to watch. Any second he would get caught.
Max was going to kill her. Michael too. She grabbed her shirt and pulled it on. If she got arrested or something, she wanted to be fully dressed.
The guard moved closer to the counter—and Nikolas made his move. He touched the back of the guard's head, and the guard instantly slumped to the floor.
"Come on," Nikolas called. Isabel ducked under the counter and almost stepped on the guard's hand.
She jumped back, staring down at the man in horror.
Nikolas grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the door. "Come on," he repeated. He ran out to his bike and swung her on behind him. Then he roared out of the parking lot.
Isabel gasped for air. Nikolas killed that guy, she thought frantically. One second he was kissing me, and the next second he killed someone.
She dug her fingernails into the sides of the motorcycle seat. She would rather fall off than touch Nikolas right now.
At least he was taking her home. He turned onto her street and pulled up in front of her house. She practically fell off the motorcycle and stumbled away from him.
Nikolas snagged her hand and pulled her back. "No good night kiss?" he asked.
"You killed someone," Isabel snapped. She tried to jerk her hand away, but Nikolas wouldn't let her.
"A human," Nikolas answered. "What? You've never swatted a fly or stepped on a cockroach?"
"That's enough with the stupid insect thing! I have to go inside," Isabel said. She knew Nikolas had no interest in humans. But she'd never imagined he would actually kill one.
Nikolas squeezed her hand. "Kidding. I'm kidding. I didn't kill that guard. I just knocked him out."
He climbed off his bike and put his hands on Isabel's shoulders. He kissed her gently. "He'll be fine."
"Really?" Isabel asked, her heart rate slowing a little.
Nikolas kissed her again. "Really. Now no more human talk." He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her until she was so breathless, she couldn't talk about anything.

—=(8)=—

Liz hurried out of the cafe. She wanted to spend the next couple of hours doing research for her debate against Arlene Bluth. Arlene had checked out every book the school library had on their topic. Liz didn't believe Arlene needed every single one of the books to prepare—she just didn't want Liz to have them. That would be assisting the enemy, and Arlene never did that.
So Liz was heading to the public library, hoping Arlene hadn't hit it already. As she crossed Alameda, Sheriff Valenti fell in step beside her.
Liz didn't slow down, but she didn't speed up, either. She tried to keep her face expressionless and her breathing nice and even. Inside she was having a mini-freak-out, but Valenti didn't have to know that.
They walked down the street in silence, side by side. If he wants to ask me something, he's going to have to be the one to talk first, Liz thought. Why should she make it easy for him?
"You're looking well, Ms. Ortecho," Valenti finally said. "I thought you might be grieving for your dead friend."
Liz stopped suddenly. Running away wasn't working. It was time to just get this over with, even though standing next to the sheriff like this made the little hairs on the back of her neck prickle.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said.
Valenti shoved his mirrored sunglasses higher on his nose. Liz hated those things. When she tried to look into the sheriff's eyes, all she saw were two little images of her own face.
"Perhaps I'm mistaken," he replied. "I assumed that the alien who drove his truck off the Lake Lee overlook was the one you were trying so hard to protect when we last spoke."
He paused, letting the silence stretch out between them. Liz's throat felt as dry and rough as sandpaper. She swallowed hard, hoping Valenti didn't notice. She didn't want him to realize how nervous he was making her.
"But I have new evidence to suggest there is still at least one alien in Roswell," Valenti continued. "Maybe that's why I find you looking so well today. Maybe your alien is safe and sound, not putrefying somewhere at the bottom of our bottomless lake."
He got that right. Her aliens, Max and Michael, had been in the truck Valenti chased to the overlook. But they'd jumped out before it had gone over the edge. There was no alien putrefying in the lake, just one old truck rusting.
Of course, Liz wasn't going to tell Valenti that. And she wasn't going to start asking him a bunch of questions or making a lot of protests, either. Talking to Valenti was dangerous. You might not mean to tell him anything, but he had a way of using every word you spoke to manipulate you into saying more and more.
"I know, I know, you don't believe in aliens," Valenti said, answering for her. "But one of those creatures that don't exist broke into the bowling alley last night."
"Yeah, everyone knows aliens love to bowl," Liz couldn't resist responding. "There's no chance it was just some humans out for a good time."
"I might agree with your theory if it wasn't for the security guard," Valenti said. "He was found unconscious. No evidence of a blow to the head. No evidence of drug or alcohol use. No medical condition."
He pulled off his sunglasses and studied her with his cold gray eyes. She couldn't decide which was worse—not being able to see his eyes or seeing them. "I can think of only one explanation," he said. "The guard was incapacitated by an alien's powers."
Nikolas, Liz thought. And if Isabel didn't help, I bet anything she was at least there when he did it.
Valenti stared at her for a few more endless moments, then he replaced his sunglasses. "I suspect that as always, you know more than you are choosing to tell me. Just remember, next time a human could end up dead—and you did nothing to prevent it from happening."
He turned on his heel and strode away. Liz watched him until he was out of sight.
What are we going to do? she thought. How are we going to keep Valenti from finding out the truth this time?

——===——

"Did you know that the man who took the very first photograph of Elvis also filmed the autopsies of the four aliens found at the Roswell crash site?" Ray asked Max.
Max shook his head. It was only his second day on the job, and he was still trying to get used to the way the guy was always saying something outrageous.
"I want you to go on-line and see what you can dig up about him. I think his name is Barrett, something like that," Ray said. "You can use the computer at the information desk. If anyone comes up with a question you can't answer, call me. We get some pretty wackadoodle questions here."
"You got it, chief," Max said. He headed over to the computer and logged on. This should be kind of fun. He always liked reading people's theories about the Roswell Incident. One of his favorites was that the aliens were really angels. It was pretty funny to think of Michael as an angel. Or Isabel. His sister wasn't exactly the angelic type.
He typed aliens and Elvis in the search box and hit enter. He shifted on the hard metal chair. All the rhinestones of his Elvis jumpsuit were sticking into him. He just hoped that Ray didn't decide to do some exhibit on the connection between Marilyn Monroe and aliens because he was not dressing up like her, cool job or no cool job.
A list of more than a thousand possible matches for aliens and Elvis came up. Max skimmed the first twenty on the list, trying to figure out which one was the most likely to have the info he needed.
Max heard footsteps rushing toward the information desk. He glanced up and saw Liz. He jumped to his feet and hurried around the desk to meet her. "What's wrong?" He knew it was something serious. Liz's usually placid aura was leaping and dancing around her head, streaks of red shooting through the beautiful amber color.
"Max, why don't you take your break," Ray called.
"Come on." Max led Liz to the little coffee shop in the back of the museum. It was almost empty. He pulled out a chair for Liz and sat down across from her. "Tell me."
"Valenti ambushed me when I got off work," Liz said in a rush. He could hear a tiny tremor in her voice. "He says he knows there's still an alien in Roswell."
"Was he just pumping you, or does he have some—," Max began.
"He said someone broke into the bowling alley last night. They knocked out the security guard—but the guy didn't have a lump on his head, and he wasn't drugged or anything. Valenti thinks an alien used his power to do it."
"Nikolas," Max said. Why hadn't he found a way to stop Nikolas yet?
"Yeah." Liz looked down at her hands, which were clenched together on the table. "And Max? I think Isabel was with him. Yesterday night when we all went to the movies—well, except you—Isabel took off with Nikolas," she went on in a rush.
Max slumped back in his chair with a sigh.
"I thought about calling you," Liz said. "But I didn't because I didn't think there was anything you could do. You or any of us."
Max dropped his head into his hands. He didn't need anyone to call him. He'd felt power being used last night. Why hadn't he kept Isabel away from Nikolas? He should have tied her to a chair if he had to.
Yeah, like that was a real option. But there must be something he could have done, some way of—
Liz reached out and took his hand. "You look just like my papa when he's thinking about my sister. He stares into space, and I can practically hear him thinking, 'What if, what if, what if.' Don't start blaming yourself, Max. It's a waste of time."
She was right. It was a waste of time. He should be figuring out what to do now. He scrubbed his face with his fingers. Okay. First thing he had to do was warn Isabel about Valenti.
"I'll be right back," he told Liz. He stood up so fast, he knocked over his chair. He left it lying there and searched through the museum for Ray. He found him dusting some fossils in the exhibit that illustrated how man really evolved from aliens and not from primates.
"Uh, Ray, I have sort of a family emergency. I know I just took a break, but I need to leave. I'll come back. I'll work late. You don't have to pay me or—"
"Go," Ray said. "And let me know if there's anything I can do."
"Thanks." Max trotted back to the coffee shop. "Let's go find Isabel," he said to Liz. They rushed out to his Jeep. "I guess we'll just try my house first. If she's not there, maybe Michael, Maria, and Alex will help us look."
"Of course they will," Liz answered.
He pulled out of the parking lot. He wanted to floor it, but he forced himself to drive at the speed limit. Getting stopped by Valenti right now would not be a smart thing to do.
It was only a couple of miles to his house, but it felt like hours before he turned onto the street.
"She's there," Liz said. "I can see Nikolas's motorcycle in your driveway."
Max checked for his parents' car. It wasn't there. Good. He pulled up in front of the house, leaped out of the Jeep, and strode across the front lawn. Liz was right beside him. He was glad she was here. He knew he shouldn't be. But he was.
"Isabel," he yelled as soon as he was through the front door.
"I'm right here," she answered from the living room. "What's your problem?"
He rushed down the hall and saw Isabel and Nikolas on the couch. She was practically sitting on his lap, and her lips looked all swollen. Obviously he'd interrupted a major make-out session. He didn't even want to think about Nikolas touching his sister.
"Congratulations, Nikolas," he spat. "You've been back in town, what, a few weeks? And you've already got Valenti coming after you."
"What?" Isabel cried.
"He asked me a bunch of questions," Liz said. "He knows I have some kind of connection to the aliens he's looking for. He just can't prove it."
"Are you okay?" Isabel began.
"Don't you have anything to say?" Max interrupted. He locked gazes with Nikolas.
"I told you I'm not worried about Valenti," Nikolas answered.
"I guess you weren't worried about that security guard at the bowling alley, either. The one you knocked unconscious," Max said. He turned back to Isabel. "How could you let him use his power like that? You know we never use the power to do harm."
"Hey, she didn't let me do anything," Nikolas said, anger creeping into his voice. "And you may have a lot of rules about how you use your power, but I don't."
"Max, he didn't hurt the guy," Isabel said.
"Don't defend me," Nikolas snapped. He stood up and pulled on his jacket.
"How do you know he didn't hurt the guy?" Max demanded. "How do you know that he didn't do permanent damage to that guard's brain or something?"
"Oh, please. I can't stand listening to one more second of your whining," Nikolas said. "You want to see what I did to the guard? Will that make you feel better?"
In three long strides he reached Liz's side.
"Nikolas, no!" Isabel screamed.
Nikolas touched Liz's forehead, and she crumpled to the floor.
"What did you do?" Max bellowed.
"Just a little demonstration," Nikolas replied as he strolled out of the room.
Max wanted to run after him and pound him into the ground. But he couldn't leave Liz. He dropped down on his knees next to her. She was so still, so pale.
"Is she okay?" Isabel cried.
Max ignored her. Form the connection, he ordered himself. Forget Nikolas. Forget Isabel. Forget everything but Liz. He gently rested his hand on her forehead. Instantly he was in. He had become so close to Liz that he could probably form a connection without even touching her.
Okay, what did Nikolas do to Liz's body? No, to their body. Nothing separated Max and Liz now. He could feel her heart beating inside him. Feel her blood rushing through his veins.
Max focused his attention on her brain. No fracture lines on her skull. No tears on the gray cauliflowerlike surface. He went deeper, exploring the cranial vault. Searching the deepest, oldest ganglia where the brain becomes the spinal cord. Checking the blood vessels for tears.
Yes. He found it. A rip in one of the arteries was forming a blood clot. The brain tissue around it was swelling. And the pressure was forcing the brain stem down through the hole at the base of the skull.
She was going to be okay. He could fix this. He just had to concentrate.
Max nudged the molecules of blood with his mind, gently breaking the clot apart. Then he squeezed the cells of the damaged artery wall together, closing the rip. The brain stem shifted slightly, moving back into position.
Liz's eyes fluttered, then opened.
"Is she okay?" Isabel repeated, her voice high and shaky.
Max didn't answer. He stared down at Liz, watching as the color slowly returned to her face.
"What happened?" she mumbled. She struggled to sit up, and a few drops of blood ran out of her nose.
Max gently pushed her back to the floor and carefully blotted the blood away with his sleeve. He grabbed a pillow off the couch and slid it under her head. "Don't try to move yet."
"Max, what happened?" she repeated.
"Liz, I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry," Isabel said softly.
"What do you remember?" Max asked Liz. He was stalling. He couldn't stand to tell her what Nikolas had done. It never should have happened. Max should have seen it coming. He should have stopped it.
"I remember telling you what happened with Valenti. I remember coming over here. I remember Nikolas saying no one was going to tell him . . . tell him any rules about how to use his power."
"Then he used his power on you. He knocked you out to demonstrate what he did to the guard," Max continued. He shot an angry look at Isabel, then returned his attention to Liz. "Except what he did to you must have been more severe. He gave you a blood clot that would have required neurosurgery."
"If you hadn't been here," Liz said. "You saved my life again. My hero." She smiled, and for a moment Max found it hard to breathe. The way she looked at him . . . it just made him go all weak inside.
Max shook his head. "Saving your life isn't very heroic when I'm the one who put your life in danger. I should have stopped this," he told her. "I should have—"
Liz reached out and pressed her fingers against his lips. "No," she said simply.
Max kissed her fingertips. He knew he shouldn't touch her. Not like that. But he couldn't stop himself.
"Should I get her some water, or—," Isabel began.
He sprang to his feet. "You have done enough," he yelled. "This wouldn't have happened if you'd stayed away from Nikolas."
"You're blaming me?" Isabel cried. "I didn't do anything."
"You went out with him after we all told you he was dangerous," Max shot back. "We knew he was going to bring Valenti down on us. But you had to go chasing after him, anyway."
"Nikolas says we don't have to worry about Valenti," Isabel protested. "And he's right. With our power we can get rid of him so easily."
"Kill him, you mean?" Max demanded. "Suddenly you have no problem with murder?"
"Not if it means saving our lives," Isabel exclaimed, her blue eyes bright with anger.
"Our lives weren't in danger, remember?" Max asked. "We found a way to get rid of Valenti—without hurting anyone. At least until you and Nikolas started playing around with your power. I hope you had fun, Isabel."
Liz pushed herself to her feet. "Don't do this, you guys. Let's just figure out what to do."
Max slid his arm around her waist. She didn't look too steady on her feet yet. "Isabel obviously needs help figuring out what to do, so I'm going to tell her." He turned to his sister and said every word slowly and deliberately. "Isabel is not going to see Nikolas again. Isabel is not going to use her power. Isabel is—"
"Isabel is leaving!" she screamed. She ran out of the room. A moment later Max heard the front door slam. Great, he thought. I handled that real well.
"She'll cool down," Liz said. "What Nikolas did to me got her thinking, I could tell. She'll figure out the right thing to do."
Max suddenly realized he was alone with Liz, holding her in his arms. It would be so easy just to pull her close to him and bury his face in her hair. That's all he wanted to do.
But he couldn't. Being close to him was dangerous for Liz. Everything that had happened to her today just proved that.
Max slowly eased his arm away from her. "I better take you home."

—=(9)=—

"I brought a couple of boxes. I wasn't sure if you had enough," Maria said.
"I don't really have a ton of stuff," Michael replied.
He's not kidding, Maria thought, glancing around his room. Michael had his clothes in neat stacks on his bed. A pair of sneakers and a pair of hiking boots were in one comer. A box of CDs and a Walkman sat on the dresser next to a pile of books on the Roswell Incident, a couple of maps, a compass, and a thick binder.
And that was it. Maria had more junk on the top shelf of her closet than Michael had in his entire room.
A picture of her memory box flashed into Maria's mind. It was a big cardboard box covered with flowers that had all these things from Maria's childhood in it. Baby shoes and crayon drawings and old report cards. Even little notes that Maria had left her parents on the fridge. Her parents had saved all of it for her because they knew she would want it someday, maybe when she had kids of her own.
Actually, that was the thing they'd had the biggest fight over when her dad moved out. He'd wanted to take Maria's and Kevin's memory boxes with him. Maria's mom said no way. They ended up giving the boxes to Maria and Kevin right then, although they had planned to keep them until the kids were ready to move away from home. Her parents still liked to add little things once in a while. Or at least they used to B.D., Before Divorce.
Maria grabbed one of the boxes and started packing the books. Did Michael ever wish he had something from elementary school? Some science project or book report? Or maybe even some special toy. She smiled as she imagined Michael playing with those Trans Formers practically every boy had at least one of.
"What?" Michael asked.
"Huh?"
"You're over there grinning like an idiot," he teased.
No way was she going to tell Michael that she'd been noticing he didn't have any stuff from when he was little. It would probably come out sounding all sentimental or like she pitied him or something, and he would totally hate that.
"Okay, I admit it. I was sort of daydreaming I was the heroine in one of those romance novels," Maria said. She figured the best thing she could do for Michael right now was keep the mood light. It had to hurt packing up your stuff—your really little piles of stuff—for the millionth time and getting shuffled off to another group of strangers.
Michael snorted. "You mean one of those girls in those long dresses with their ya-yas hanging out?"
Maria added the CDs and the Walkman to her box. "Yeah, one of those girls," she answered. "But I have to tell you, no romantic hero in those books ever uses the expression ya-yas."
"What do they call them, then?" He unzipped a gym bag and stuffed his clothes inside.
"They call them orbs," Maria said primly.
"Oh, baby. You don't know what it does to me when you say the word orb," Michael joked.
Maria glanced around the room, searching for something else she could stick in her box. She spotted a pair of ceramic salt-and-pepper shakers shaped like bumblebees on his windowsill. She picked them up. "Should I pack these?" she asked.
Michael took them out of her hands. "They were from my first foster home. I thought I was going to live there forever, even though the social worker told me it was only temporary. I kept thinking that the Salingers would change their minds and keep—"
A deep flush spread across Michael's cheeks. He tossed the bumblebees in the trash. "I don't know why I've been hauling those around with me everyplace," he muttered.
"Hey, are you sure? They're kind of cute." Maria took one step toward the trash to retrieve them.
"Leave them," Michael ordered.
Maria grabbed the tape and got very busy sealing up her box. She could feel tears stinging her eyes, and she didn't want Michael to notice them. He was obviously already feeling totally humiliated for revealing he was once a little kid who wanted a real home. She didn't want to make things worse by letting Michael see how sad she thought that was.
"Don't you want to know what they call a guy's, um, a guy's equivalent of ya-yas in those books?" Maria asked.
"You've got a lot to learn if you think there even is an equivalent," Michael answered.
"You know what I mean." Maria laughed.
"I want to hear you say it," he said. "I don't believe you can. Not with your innocent little lips."
"I told you not to call me innocent," Maria complained.
There. She'd done it. She'd steered them away from a subject that Michael obviously couldn't stand to talk about. She hoped he realized that if he ever did want to talk, she would be there for him. She would always be there for him.

——===——

Max stared at the computer screen. No matches. How could there be no matches to aliens and Elvis? Not two hours ago there had been thousands of matches.
He checked his search request. He had spelled both words wrong. Max dropped his head back and closed his eyes. At least I spelled and right, he thought. After what had happened that was pretty good.
He couldn't stop picturing Liz collapsing onto the floor. He couldn't stop thinking about the way Nikolas had just strolled out of the house as if what he did to Liz was no big deal. And he couldn't stop wondering where Isabel was.
"Having problems?" Ray asked.
Max jerked up his head and opened his eyes. He was losing it. He hadn't even heard Ray walk up to him. This was only his second night on the job. Ray must think he'd hired a total moron.
"No, no problems," Max said quickly. "I should have some stuff on that photographer really soon." He typed in the search request again. He couldn't stop himself from giving a little groan when he realized he'd put two d's in and.
"Are you okay?" Ray asked. "You didn't have to come back if something's wrong at home."
Max sighed. "I wanted to come back. There's nothing I can do there, anyway."
Ray nodded. He didn't ask any questions, but he didn't walk away, either. It was clear that if Max wanted to talk, Ray wanted to listen. But if Max didn't, that was okay, too.
"It's just that my sister is getting involved with this guy . . ." Max hesitated. It's not like he could tell Ray what was really going on.
"A guy that you don't approve of, obviously," Ray said.
"He's encouraging her to do stuff, stuff that she wouldn't do on her own," Max answered.
"Do you think she's in danger?" Ray asked, his gaze intent on Max.
"Yeah. Yeah, I do," Max answered.
Ray pulled a chair up next to Max and sat down. "You may not like this suggestion, but have you considered talking to your parents?" he asked.
Max wished he could talk to his parents about this. They were great in a crisis. They didn't get all into blame or anything. They were really practical. They figured out what needed to be done and did it. Of course later they might do some yelling. But first they fixed things.
But Max couldn't ask for his parents' help with the Isabel situation. His parents didn't know that he and Isabel were aliens. Sure, they knew there was something strange about the two little kids they'd found wandering naked alongside the highway. And after they adopted Max and Isabel, they tried to find out their history. But they'd never come up with any answers.
Back then it would have been impossible for Max to tell his new parents the truth about himself and Isabel. He didn't know he was an alien—not until years later when he saw pictures of the debris from the Roswell crash and recognized some of the symbols from his incubation pod. He saw pictures of the alien autopsies, too. And read the stories about the government threatening witnesses to the crash. That's when he realized being aliens put him and Isabel—and anyone around them—in danger. They made a pact never to tell anyone.
Max wasn't going to break that pact now. If his parents knew the truth, they would be in danger from Valenti. Max couldn't let that happen. It was horrible enough that he had brought Liz into a life-threatening situation. He wasn't going to risk his parents' lives, too.
"I take it from your silence that involving your parents isn't an option," Ray said.
"Not really," Max answered. "I guess I'll just have to deal with it myself."
Ray stood up. "If you ever want to tell me more about what's going on, you know where to find me." He wandered over to the rack of pamphlets near the entrance.
I'm just going to have to keep a close watch on Isabel, Max thought. I don't care how much she hates it. I'm going to know about every move she makes. I'll get the others to help me.
But first he had to find her. Where did she go when she ran out of the house? Max hoped she went to Michael's. Or to their cave.
But he had a feeling she went straight to Nikolas.

——===——

Isabel burst into Michael's room. "You have to get Max off my case," she cried. Then she registered the fact that Maria was in the room. She hadn't even thought about the possibility that Michael might not be alone. Michael was always alone—unless he was hanging out with her or Max.
Or at least that's how it used to be. Isabel couldn't remember Michael ever even hanging out with any girl other than her. It felt a little strange to see Maria here, looking so comfortable in Michael's room.
Isabel shook the feeling away. It wasn't like Maria was going to take her place in Michael's life or anything. And Maria was one of her best friends now. All the humans—Alex and Liz and Maria—had become part of Isabel's "family" the moment Max formed the connection between them.
Isabel had tried to explain that to Nikolas, but he didn't want to hear it. He didn't want her to even mention the humans to him. It wasn't like he hated them, exactly. He just didn't want to waste his time talking about them.
"So what has Max done now?" Michael asked. "Did he actually want you to take your turn washing the dishes or something?"
Isabel knew Michael didn't honestly believe it was something that minor. She wanted to pour out everything to him, but not in front of Maria. For the first time since the connection she had something that she only wanted to share with her own kind. She wished Maria would take a hint and go, but she seemed totally oblivious. And Isabel was too furious to wait.
"He ordered me to stay away from Nikolas," she burst out. "He's always telling me what to do. Don't use your power. Be careful. Go there. Do that. Blah, blah, blah. He makes me sick. Why does he think he gets to be in charge of all of us? You're the same age as him, Michael. If someone has to be in charge, why can't it be you? Why should he automatically get to control everything?"
Michael stood up, took Isabel by the shoulders, and sat her down on the bed next to Maria. He leaned against the dresser with his arms crossed—his don't-jerk-me-around stance. "From the beginning," he instructed. "And don't leave anything out."
"Last night Nikolas and I hung out at the bowling alley," Isabel said. "But it was sort of after closing time."
"Translation—you broke in," Michael said. "And?"
"And we fooled around. We had some food. We bowled with pool balls," Isabel answered. She knew she had to get to the part about the security guard, but it was hard.
"And?" Michael repeated.
"And then this security guard almost caught us, so Nikolas used his powers to knock him out," Isabel blurted. "But he's fine. Nikolas didn't really hurt him. Liz said Sheriff Valenti said—"
"Wait. Back up. How did Valenti get into this story?" Michael demanded.
"Valenti asked Liz some questions about what happened. He thinks . . ." Isabel found she couldn't look at Michael or Maria.
"He thinks that an alien took out the guard," Michael finished for her.
"Right," Isabel admitted. She glanced over at Maria. What was she thinking? She hadn't said one word since Isabel came in.
"I guess we need to have a meeting," Maria said slowly. "I guess we need to come up with another plan to deal with Valenti."
Thank you, Maria, Isabel thought. At least there was one person who wasn't going to yell at her. Maria reminded Isabel a little of Tish. They both always wanted to believe the best of people.
"Before we start working on a plan, I think Isabel has something else to tell us. Right, Iz?" Michael asked.
Damn, she thought. Michael could always do that. He not only knew when Isabel was lying, he knew when she was bending the truth or choosing not to tell everything. Michael knew her better than anyone else in the world. It's like he could see right into her soul with those sharp gray eyes of his.
"Max and Liz came home a little while ago. Nikolas was there with me. Max got all righteous, the way he always does. He started telling Nikolas what to do. And Nikolas was, like, why should he listen to Max? Which is true."
Isabel took a deep breath. Her chest felt tight. "So then Nikolas tried to show Max, even though he didn't have to, that he really didn't hurt the guard. He . . . he touched Liz and knocked her out. I think he accidentally did it a little harder than he meant to. He was angry. He just wanted to prove—"
"What?" Michael exploded.
"He knocked out Liz?" Maria cried. "Is she all right?"
"Liz is fine. Max healed her," Isabel explained. "It was stupid of Nikolas. Really stupid. I'm going to talk to him about it."
And she would, too. If she could make Nikolas understand how it felt to see Liz lying there on the floor, with those little drops of blood on her face . . . He would never do anything like that again. She was sure he wouldn't.
And it's not as if he really hurt Liz. Not permanently or anything. He just knocked her out. She was fine.
"No, you aren't going to talk to him," Michael said, his voice cold. "You are not getting within ten feet of that guy ever again."
Isabel turned to Maria. She understood, didn't she? "Nikolas didn't mean—"
"I don't want to hear it," Maria snapped. "I can't believe you still want to hang out with a guy who would do that to Liz."
"And I can't believe you're both being so judgmental," Isabel answered. "You're not even giving Nikolas a chance."
She sprang off the bed and ran out of the room. She didn't want to hear one more word from either of them.
Isabel slammed out of the house and headed down the street. She walked fast, arms swinging. Then she started to run, pushing herself to go faster and faster. She focused on the feel of her feet slamming down on the pavement, the burning sensation building in her lungs, the pounding of her heart.
She tried to lose herself in the physical sensations. But she couldn't block out the memory of Liz lying motionless on the ground or Max yelling at her, ordering her never to see Nikolas again. Or Michael's cold voice insisting that she was going to stay away from Nikolas.
They were treating her like she was a little kid. They wouldn't even listen to her when she told them that she would talk to Nikolas about what he did. She would sit him down and tell him the whole story of how Liz, Maria, and Alex risked their lives to help fight Valenti. She would make Nikolas listen. She would make him understand. She knew she could do it.
But no, they didn't trust her enough to think that she could handle things on her own. They thought they had to step in and start issuing orders. They thought she was reckless and stupid—they'd always felt that way about her.
Well, Isabel wasn't going to take it anymore. They didn't trust her, even when she behaved exactly the way they wanted her to. So why bother trying to make them happy?
She turned onto her street and slowed to a jog. She heard a motorcycle roaring up behind her.
Nikolas. He wanted her to do just what she pleased. He didn't want to hold her back, or make her be careful, or tell her what to do.
She spun around and raced over to him. She hurled herself into his arms.
Isabel had always laughed at girls who climbed all over their boyfriends. She thought they looked desperate. Pathetic.
But now she understood how they felt. She needed Nikolas, like she needed air in her lungs. Waiting for even a minute left her gasping. She couldn't give him up. Not for anyone.

—=(10)=—

"I'm kicking you out, okay? I forgot there's something I've got to do." Michael practically pushed Maria out the front door. "Thanks for helping me pack and everything."
"Uh, okay. Bye," Maria said. He shut the door behind her, then headed straight for the phone. He was calling Max, and they were going to find Nikolas. Now. There was no way Michael would let Nikolas get away with what he did to Liz. It didn't matter that Liz wasn't hurt. No one touched a member of Michael's family and got away with it.
Michael punched in Max's number. It rang a couple of times, then the answering machine picked up. Michael slammed down the phone. He couldn't wait for Max to get home. He hesitated for a second, then dialed Alex's number.
Alex answered on the second ring. Michael quickly filled him in.
"I'm picking you up," Alex said. He hung up before Michael could say another word.
Michael grabbed his jacket from his room, then stationed himself in front of the picture window that looked out over the street. At least the Hugheses weren't home, so he wouldn't have to answer any questions about where he was going.
His foster parents hadn't been around much since Mr. Cuddihy gave Michael the news that he'd be moving to another foster home. One night they went to the movies; one night they went over to a friend's for dinner. But Michael thought those were really just excuses to get out of the house, to get away from him. It was totally obvious Mrs. Hughes was uncomfortable around him now. She almost looked embarrassed if she ran into him in the hall. Mr. Hughes basically ignored him. Which was fine with Michael. It was better than always being in the middle of some stupid power struggle with the guy.
Michael spotted Alex's Rabbit turn down the street. He bolted out the door. The second he stepped outside, he smelled it. The thick ozone-rich smell of power being used. A moment later he felt the familiar buzzing tingle in his body. All the hairs on his arms stood straight up.
Not good, he thought as he trotted over to Alex's car. This is not at all good. He climbed into the passenger seat and slammed the door. Alex peeled out, barely waiting for Michael to put on his seat belt.
"You know those signs that have little numbers on them? They're there to tell you how fast it's safe to drive," Michael told Alex.
It was a lame joke. He didn't even know why he told it. Maybe just because Alex looked ready to blow.
Alex didn't crack a smile. "Where do we start looking?" he asked.
"Good question," Michael answered. "I don't even know where he lives. Let's just check out the usual places." It's not like Roswell was a big city. There weren't that many spots you could go on a Saturday night.
"Even Nikolas and Isabel wouldn't be stupid enough to go back to the bowling alley. Let's try UFOnics," Alex suggested.
"Good idea. Isabel loves to dance," Michael said. Alex's hands tightened on the steering wheel. Oh, great, Michael thought. Why didn't I just offer to pour some salt into his wound? "Although they're probably not even together," he added.
Alex gave him an "oh-please" look. Michael decided shutting up would probably be a good idea. He stared out the window, watching the well-kept houses of the south side fly by.
When Alex turned onto Main Street, Michael started checking parking lots for Nikolas's motorcycle. He caught some flashing lights out of the comer of his eye. "Turn here," he ordered.
The Rabbits tires squealed as Alex made a sharp turn onto Mescalero. "I want to see what's happening at the 7-Eleven," Michael muttered. Sheriff Valenti's cruiser and an ambulance were parked out front.
Alex parked the car across the street. "You know what's going on over there?" he asked a kid on a skateboard.
"Somebody trashed the place," the kid answered. "I think they were stoned and had the major munchies. All these bags of food were ripped open. Wish they'd invited me."
"What about the cashier?" Michael asked.
"Down for the count," the kid answered. "I don't know what they hit him with, but it must have been heavy."
Alex pulled back onto the street. "We don't want to be here. Eventually Valenti's going to start asking everybody what they saw."
"If it was Nikolas and Isabel that—," Michael began.
"If?" Alex asked.
"Yeah, you're right," Michael said. "I don't think they'd hang around town after pulling that stunt. Let's check the cave."
Alex nodded. He drove out of town and sped down the highway, heading farther and farther into the desert. He didn't talk at all, and it was giving Michael the creeps. Alex usually talked constantly. It was like some mutant Alex clone was in the car with him. Michael flipped on the radio just so there would be some kind of noise.
"The cave's off to the left a couple of miles," Michael said. "Do you think your car will make it?"
Alex didn't even slow down. He veered off into the desert. "The ground's pretty hard packed—we'll be okay. I don't want to waste any more time."
Michael heard a mesquite bush crunch under the Rabbit's tires. Alex hadn't even swerved to avoid hitting it. He was on a mission. Michael had always had a hard time believing Alex came from a long line of military men. But not anymore.
"I see Nikolas's motorcycle," Michael announced. "Park here. I want to surprise them."
Alex parked, and they quietly climbed out of the car. They crossed over to the mouth of the cave. Michael swung himself inside, Alex right behind him.
Isabel scrambled up from the sleeping bag in the corner. She quickly rebuttoned the top two buttons of her blouse. Nikolas stood up more slowly. He probably wanted to make sure Alex knew exactly what he had interrupted, Michael thought.
Michael and Alex walked straight over to Nikolas. Shoulder to shoulder, they faced him. Nikolas glanced back and forth between them, his lips curving into a small smile.
"What you did to Liz is not acceptable," Michael told Nikolas.
"I told you—," Isabel began.
"No one is talking to you," Michael shot back. He took a step closer to Nikolas. "From now on you stay away from us," he continued. "All of us. If you don't, there will be consequences."
"I want you two out of here now." Isabel grabbed the back of Michael's jacket and tried to pull him away. He shrugged her off.
"I'm supposed to be scared of you?" Nikolas asked.
"That's right," Alex answered. "You want proof? I'll be happy to give it to you."
Michael glanced at Alex. His aura was shot through with bolts of iron gray and deep crimson. Not a trace of fear. Alex wasn't just talking. He was more than ready to take Nikolas on.
"If this is supposed to impress me or something, Alex, it's not working," Isabel informed him.
"News flash. Everything is not about you, Isabel," Alex answered. "This is about Liz. I don't let anybody hurt my friends."
"While you're so busy protecting them, who's going to be protecting you?" Nikolas asked softly. Then, moving fast, he reached out and touched Alex's forehead. Alex's eyes rolled back in his head and he crashed to the cave floor.
With a little gasp Isabel rushed over and knelt beside him.
"That's it." Michael slammed Nikolas against the limestone wall. "That's the last time you—"
Michael suddenly felt himself flying through the air, flying across the cave. Then hitting the opposite wall with a thump. His teeth came down on his tongue, and blood filled his mouth.
What just happened? Michael thought. What did he do to me?
Nikolas strolled toward Michael, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. "You're not much stronger than a human. That's what happens when you're too careful with your powers."
Michael growled low in his throat. He started to hurl himself at Nikolas—but he was stuck to the cave wall. He couldn't move.
Nikolas laughed. "You must feel like a fly on flypaper right now." He stopped inches away from Michael and studied him. Then he reached out and lightly rested his fingers on Michael's forehead. Instantly a wave of dizziness swept through Michael.
"I think I'll do this slowly," Nikolas said. "I want to enjoy it."
Where was Isabel? Was she just going to watch this happen? Michael shot a glance at her. She was healing Alex, lost in the connection.
Michael struggled against the cave wall. Straining his muscles.
I'm doing this the wrong way, he realized. His thoughts felt slow, as if his brain wasn't working right. Nikolas is using power to hold me in place. That means I have to use power to break free.
Michael closed his eyes. He needed to focus on the power inside him, not what was going on around him. He let the taste of blood in his mouth and the pain in his head fade into the background. He let his fury at Nikolas fade.
Yes. Now he could concentrate on the force field. Now he could feel it against his skin. Slick, and oily, and thin. Very thin.
"Aarrgh!" Michael channeled his power and smashed a hole in the force field. He broke one hand free from the cave wall.
His eyes opened, and he shoved his fingers onto Nikolas's chest. Connect, he ordered himself. And that's all it took. The connection was instantaneous. Maybe because Nikolas was an alien, too.
Michael focused his attention on Nikolas's left lung. He used his mind to crush the cells together.
Nikolas gasped for breath. Michael kept shoving the cells together. He would collapse Nikolas's lung if he had to.
Nikolas kept his fingers locked on Michael's forehead. Michael's head began to pound. Jagged streaks of red light flashed in front of his eyes.
He struggled to keep his focus on Nikolas's lung tissue. Crush it, he thought. I have to crush it. His vision blurred. His hand began to slip off Nikolas's chest. He dug his fingernails into Nikolas's shirt, keeping the connection. And he smiled when he heard Nikolas wheeze as he struggled to pull air into his damaged lung.
Michael gathered his strength and bashed another hole in the force field. Now his head was free. He shook it back and forth, trying to knock Nikolas's fingers off. But Nikolas wouldn't let go.
Michael's vision dimmed. He was going to black out. Nikolas was going to win.
"Stop it!" Isabel screeched. Her voice sounded far away. Outside the connection.
Suddenly her face loomed in front of his. She pushed Nikolas back, away from Michael's fingers. Nikolas's hand slipped off Michael's head.
The connection was broken.
The force field disappeared, and Michael tumbled to the floor. He didn't try to stand up. He turned his healing powers on himself. Dissolving the two blood clots Nikolas had formed in his brain. Repairing the torn blood vessels.
"Okay, let's just call that a tie," Isabel said, her voice harsh. "I hope you've both figured out that there's no way one of us can kill the other—without ending up dead, too."
Michael grabbed Alex's arm and pulled him up off the floor. "Come on, Isabel," he said.
She didn't move.
"I said come on," he snarled.
"You can't tell me what to do," Isabel whispered.
"What the hell has happened to you?" Michael exploded. "This jerk just tried to kill me! He hurt Alex! I am not going to leave you alone with him. Now come on—we're going home."
Isabel's eyes blazed. "No."
Without another word, Michael turned his back and left her there.

——===——

Isabel gazed at herself in her dresser mirror on Sunday morning. She'd been staring for so long that her face didn't look like a face anymore—just a jumble of shapes and colors.
"We're going to the office for a few hours, honey. We'll be back around one," Mrs. Evans called through Isabel's closed bedroom door. "Max is already gone, so you're on your own."
"Okay," Isabel answered. "Bye."
The spell was broken. Her face looked like a face again. Isabel turned away from the mirror. She wondered if Nikolas would come by for her. Nikolas never made plans in advance. He just roared up on his motorcycle and she jumped on.
When he did show up, Isabel knew she had to have a talk with him. A long talk. Usually when she started to say something Nikolas didn't want to hear, he would kiss her. By the time she floated back to earth, she would pretty much have forgotten her point.
But she wasn't going to let him do that. Not this time. She had to make it very clear that if she was going to be with Nikolas, he had to promise never to use his powers against Alex, Max, Michael, Liz, or Maria. If he wouldn't do that, she would walk away. No matter how she felt about him. No matter how right it felt to be in his arms.
She had a few little things she wanted to say to the others, too. It's not like they'd been so totally perfect. Isabel pulled her hair back into a ponytail and frowned at her reflection.
Why did it have to be this way? Why couldn't they all see how incredible it was to have Nikolas around? For all their lives they'd thought they were alone here. Just the three of them. And now there was someone else, someone like them.
Michael and Max should be excited about Nikolas. They should have accepted him as part of their group. And Liz, Maria, and Alex—even Alex—should be happy that Isabel had found one of her own kind to be with. Someone who understood her. Someone who taught her not to be afraid . . .
Isabel's thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell. Nikolas! She rushed out of her room and down the stairs. She swung open the front door and saw Alex standing there.
Of course it wasn't Nikolas. Nikolas was not a doorbell kind of guy.
Looking at Alex, Isabel couldn't help thinking about what she saw when she healed him last night. The inside of Alex's mind was like an Isabel shrine. He remembered things about her that she didn't even remember.
Connecting with Alex convinced her that he was on her side. He was not happy with the whole Nikolas situation. But he would always be there for her.
Even after she let her boyfriend knock him out . . .
Isabel quickly pushed that thought aside. So Nikolas had a wild side. He was always nice to her. And that was all that mattered. Right?

——===——

Alex shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Was Isabel going to say anything?
"So are you here to see me or Max?" Isabel asked softly "I know everything isn't about me."
Was that supposed to be an apology? Alex wondered. "I'm here to see you," he answered.
Isabel stepped back and swung open the door. "Do you want some toast or something?"
"You're offering to cook for me? I'm touched," Alex answered. She does seem like she's trying to say she's sorry, in an Isabel kind of way, he thought.
"Come on." Isabel led the way into the kitchen. "My parents and Max already ate, but I think they might have left some muffins." She picked up a plate covered with crumbs. "Or maybe not."
"I'm not really hungry, anyway," Alex said. His stomach was in knots. He didn't want to have this conversation with Isabel. But he needed to.
"Are you feeling okay? Your head?" Isabel asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine. You do good work." He sat down in one of the kitchen chairs. Isabel sat across from him. Not next to him, across from him. So don't get too excited about the whole implied-apology thing, he thought. She's hardly throwing herself at your red-haired self.
"Uh, the reason I've called you all here . . ." Alex took a deep breath. "It's because I'm worried about you."
"You don't have—," she began to protest.
"Wait. Let me finish," Alex said. "I know you hate being told what to do. But sometimes what people are telling you to do is the right thing to do, you know?"
Isabel stood up and started gathering the dirty dishes off the table. She dropped them in the sink with a clatter. "So you're here to tell me to stay away from Nikolas."
"Yeah. I am. Because you're not thinking clearly," Alex said. "I know you don't think Valenti is any threat to you and Nikolas because you have your power, but—"
"No. We are not having this conversation. Because that's not what it's about," Isabel said. She scooped up a handful of silverware and hurled it into the sink.
"What is it about, then?" Alex asked.
"It's about that you're jealous. It's about that you see that there is something going on between me and Nikolas, and it's driving you crazy," Isabel answered. She jerked on the hot water and sent it splashing over the dishes.
"I admit that," Alex told her. What was the point of denying it? It was obvious. "But what about your brother? What about Michael? What about Liz and Maria? They have no reason to be jealous, and they all think Nikolas is putting you in danger. No, not just you—all of us."
Isabel snatched up one of the dishes and scrubbed it furiously. "I want you to leave," she said, without turning around to look at him.
"Fine," Alex said. "But you have to know this is it. I go now, I'm gone. I'm not going to come running back if you change your mind."
"I can live with that," Isabel answered.

—=(11)=—

"So do you feel any better?" Maria asked.
Liz glanced over at Alex. She knew Maria thought dragging Alex out for ice cream would cheer him up. But cheerful wasn't exactly the word Liz would use to describe him right now.
"Not really," Alex admitted.
Maria turned to Liz. "What do you think? More M&M's?"
"Umm. No, I think the problem is the sprinkles. He needs the rainbow ones, not the chocolate ones," Liz answered. "Rainbow equals happy, right?"
"Right. I'll take care of it." Maria jumped up and snatched Alex's sundae off the table. She hurried over to the counter.
Liz took a bite of her frozen yogurt. She was basically stalling. She was hoping she'd come up with some great thing to say to Alex about the whole Isabel sitch. But there wasn't anything. Liz knew that. It's not like anybody had been able to say anything that made her feel better about Max wanting to be just friends.
"Those rainbow sprinkles don't taste like anything," Alex mumbled.
"Yeah. They look like they should taste great. Like they should just explode in your mouth with all these flavors," Liz agreed. "Maybe you could do one of your lists on that, on food that tastes totally different than you'd expect it to."
"Maybe." Alex got really interested in smoothing out all the wrinkles in his paper napkin.
"Hey, I'm sorry." Liz patted his arm as if he were a puppy or something, which made her feel like her abuelita. That's what she always did when someone looked upset. "I know sometimes it makes you feel worse when people try to cheer you up," she said.
Liz definitely had times where she just wanted to curl up under the covers, listen to some really sad songs about love gone bad, and think of Max. When she was in that kind of mood, she didn't want anyone trying to make her feel better.
She leaned closer to Alex. "I know ice cream isn't going to help, either," she whispered. "But it makes Maria feel better to do something for you."
Maria had force-fed Liz the full menu of comfort food after Max told her he wanted to be just friends. Liz had choked down many varieties of chocolate, macaroni and cheese, french fries, and all the other greasy, fatty, sweet foods Maria could think of.
Which just proved what an amazing friend Maria was. Maria was a total natural food fanatic. She refused to eat anything with preservatives, additives, or artificial colors. She never ate meat or eggs or any dairy products. But when her friends were feeling blue, Maria made it her job to get them the food she thought would make them feel better. Even if she was dying to stuff them full of blue-green algae, wheat grass, and tofu.
Maria hurried back over with Alex's new and improved sundae. She watched him intently as he took a bite, then shook her head. "It's not working. He doesn't look any happier," she said. "I have a theory about why. Alex eats junk food three meals a day, so junk food doesn't give him that little boost it gives most people."
"Maybe," Liz said. Or maybe when you got your heart broken, nothing could make you feel any better, she thought.
Every day when she woke up, she did a little experiment on herself. She looked at a picture she had of Max and then tried to rank how much it hurt on a scale from one to ten. She kept hoping one day she'd at least be at 9.9 instead of a full ten. But it hadn't happened yet.
"Alex, tell us again what happened when you went miniature golfing," Maria said. "What exactly did Isabel say before she kissed you?"
"I have to remind you that I'm a guy," Alex said. "I know that we hang out a lot and that you might have started getting a little confused. But I do burp and scratch myself, and I even own a jockstrap. I am a guy with full guy standing. And guys don't do the whole 'then she said, then I said' analyzing-every-little-detail thing."
"That's nothing to brag about," Maria told him. "It's healthy to talk about things."
Liz wasn't so sure. She and Maria had analyzed every moment of the little span of time after Liz and Max were friends but before they became just friends. But it didn't help. It didn't make Liz feel any better. And it didn't give her some great idea about how to get Max back.
"Just tell me what kind of kiss it was," Maria begged Alex. "You know, like how long it lasted. It will help, really."
Alex put his head in his hands and moaned. He's totally miserable, Liz thought. I wonder if Isabel has the tiniest clue.
She knew Max had to be feeling as horrible as she was, and that made her feel better. She knew it shouldn't, but it did.
A little.

——===——

Michael slid open Maria's window and pulled himself inside. He tossed the Evil Dead video on her bed. Where was she? He cracked open her bedroom door and listened. The house was empty. This sucked. He'd been looking forward to listening to her squeal her way through another horror movie.
Maybe he should have called first to see if she was even home. But it's not like he planned to come over. It was his last night at the Hugheses', and Mrs. Hughes had asked him to be sure and be there for dinner, which he was. She made a cake and everything. It was kind of obvious that she was feeling bad about kicking him out.
But the whole thing was just so fake and phony. Mr. and Mrs. Hughes's auras made it real clear they were not having a good time. And Michael definitely wasn't, either. But they all sat there, putting on an act for each other. Pathetic. By the time he choked down a piece of cake, he was dying to get out of there. He made up a lame excuse about wanting to say goodbye to some of the neighbors—as if—and took off.
He wandered around for a while, and when he passed the video store, he got the idea of picking up a flick and hanging out with Maria. Evil Dead was one of his all-time favorites. It had this great scene where a guy's hand becomes possessed and he starts breaking all these dishes over his own head. It was kind of like what would happen if the Three Stooges made a horror movie.
Michael thought about taking the video over to Alex's. But since Alex's love train had crashed, he wasn't exactly fun to hang out with. If the two of them got together tonight, their double bad mood might push them both over the edge.
He definitely didn't want to hit Max's house. For one thing, he didn't think he could look at Isabel without starting to scream at her. Plus Sunday night was sort of family night over there. Mr. and Mrs. Evans were always cool about having Michael around. They joked about him being their favorite kid. But he didn't feel like being an honorary Evans family member. Not tonight.
Michael sat down on Maria's bed. Maybe he'd wait for her for a while. He stretched out and felt a lump under his back. He dug around and pulled out a pair of purple-and-orange camouflage pants. He snorted. Camouflage was supposed to help you blend into your surroundings. It's not like there were many purple-and-orange trees or buildings or . . . anything.
And the legs on the things were huge. Each leg would hold two of Maria's whole body, practically. So they were really bad camouflage, and if you needed to run—forget about it. But the pants had looked pretty cute on Maria the other day when she wore them with that tiny fuzzy little sweater.
Michael shifted around on the bed. There was still something jammed underneath him. He felt around and pulled out a pair of boxer shorts. Wait. What was Maria doing with boxers on her bed?
He held them up, and a smile broke across his face. These definitely didn't belong to a guy. They had little baby ducks all over them. And they did look Maria size. He dropped them on top of the pants.
He grabbed one of her pillows and stuck it under his head. It had that weird smell, the cough-drops-and-flowers smell. He took a deep breath. Maybe Maria was right. It actually did smell kind of good. And it totally cleared his nose.
Footsteps came down the hall toward him. A second later the door swung open and Maria stepped inside. She gave a little scream when she saw him.
"I brought a movie," Michael told her.
"Actually, I have to make a cake for my mom's birthday," Maria said.
Michael shoved himself to his feet. He should've known better than to just invite himself over. "I guess it's kind of late, anyway. I should take off." He headed toward the window.
"Wait," Maria called. "I could use some help."
Michael turned around. He felt this big, goofy grin spreading across his face. He tried to control it, but it was like his mouth muscles had a will of their own.
"Okay," he answered. "But I'm not wearing an apron."

——===——

Isabel grabbed a pair of black espadrilles out of her closet and hurled them into the trash. She never wore them. They had those lame laces that wrapped all the way up to her knees. Who wanted to walk around looking like you belonged in some drama club production of Julius Caesar?
She snatched up a pair of lavender flats she had to wear when she was a junior bridesmaid in her cousin's wedding. She threw them in the trash, too. Her cousin was getting divorced, so there was no reason for Isabel to get all sentimental about the shoes. Maybe her marriage would have lasted longer if she had better taste, Isabel thought. The shoes had lavender flowers on the toes. That said it all.
Someone knocked on her door. Before Isabel could order whoever it was to go away, Max stuck his head in. "We're starting the movie," he told her.
"I'm cleaning my closet," she answered.
"Come on. You know Mom and Dad like us to do stuff together on Sunday nights," Max said. "I rented a chick flick. I know you liked it."
"You don't care if I liked it or not," Isabel snapped. She grabbed a pair of flip-flops and tossed them into the pile behind her. "You just want me down there so you can watch me."
Max and the others weren't going to be happy until they turned her into a little Isabel puppet. But that was never going to happen. No one controlled her.
She glanced over at her brother. "Are you still here?" she asked.
He left without another word. Good. Everything he said to her made her more furious.
Isabel searched her closet. Not one pair left. She turned around and studied the pile of shoes behind her. How should she organize them. Color? Style? Heel height?
Her phone rang. She picked it up. "What?"
"Hello to you, too. It's Maria."
Great, Isabel thought. Maria wants her turn to tell me to stay away from Nikolas.
"Michael's at my house, and we want you to come over. We made a cake, and we need help decorating it," Maria said.
"Oh, gee, that sounds like so much fun. But I bought one of those new toilet paper dispensers, the ones that give off a fresh scent every time you use it, and I'm planning to install it tonight." Isabel slammed down the phone.
Decorate a cake. Yeah, right, she thought. Decorate it with the words Isabel, You're in Danger in big letters.
She wasn't stupid. She knew how to take care of herself. Why were they all treating her like a baby? They probably came up with a schedule for themselves. Max will baby-sit Isabel from nine to eleven, Michael from eleven to two. . . .
The phone rang again. "Hello. You've reached Isabel Evans. If you want to leave a message telling me to stay away from Nikolas, press one. If you want to leave a message telling me I'm in danger, press two. If you want to leave a message telling me what a horrible person I am for what happened to Liz, press three. If—"
"Uh, Isabel. It's Alex. I don't want to do any of those things. I just wanted to say that I lied to you this morning. If you changed your mind, I would come running back."
Isabel felt tears sting her eyes. She blinked them away. Alex wanted the same thing as the rest of them. He was another one of the baby-sitters. She had to remember that.
"Beep," she said softly. Then she hung up. She switched on her answering machine. She couldn't take another call.
Shoes. That's what she needed to be thinking about. Maybe she should divide them into different seasons. But did that really make sense in Roswell? Some of the seasons weren't that different.
The phone rang again. That would be Liz, Isabel thought. Her last baby-sitter.
The beep went off. "Hi, Isabel, this is Liz."
Isabel shook her head, disgusted.
"I just had a question about . . . a math problem. I know you're a math whiz, so could you call me?" Liz said.
Liz was going to be valedictorian, and she couldn't think up a better story than that? She needed to take a remedial lying class or something. Yeah, Isabel was good in math. But she was a junior, and Liz was a senior. Besides that, Max, boy genius, lived in the same house. If Liz really wanted help, she would just ask him.
The next time that phone rings, I'm throwing it out the window, Isabel decided.

——===——

Max glanced over at his dad. His eyes had almost glazed over. His father needed a movie with a good explosion every few minutes to keep him awake.
He checked out his mom. She seemed pretty into the movie. Max knew Isabel would be loving it, too. She was the only reason he had broken down and rented the dumb movie.
And now he was stuck watching this movie about a girl who falls in love with a guy who's really an angel. It was pretty stupid. When Nicolas Cage told Meg Ryan he was a messenger from God, she was just kind of like, "Okay, fine."
Nobody real would react like that. When he'd told Liz that he was an alien, she had totally freaked out. Well, first she'd just thought he was messing with her. Then she had freaked out.
Max wondered if Liz would like this movie. He didn't think he'd mind it so much if he was watching it with Liz snuggled up next to him. Get serious, he told himself. You'd watch the Barney movie and love it if it meant getting close to Liz.
He grabbed a handful of popcorn. He decided to time himself, to see how long he could go without thinking about Liz. If he could start stretching out the amounts of time by a few seconds, maybe someday he would regain his sanity. He checked his watch. Okay, go, he told himself.
He tuned back in to the movie. Some guy was explaining to Nicolas Cage that he could be with Meg Ryan if he was willing to give up all his angel powers.
Would I do that for Liz? Max thought. Would I give up my power, which would probably mean giving up any chance of ever seeing my home planet? Would I—
Max checked his watch. Three seconds. He'd gone three seconds without thinking of Liz.
He sighed. Try going for four this time, he told himself.
Then he heard it—the sound of a motorcycle roaring up to the house. He jumped up and hurried to the front window.
Just in time to see Isabel run across the front lawn and climb up behind Nikolas.

—=(12)=—

Isabel fastened the diamond tennis bracelet around her wrist. "What do you think?" she asked Nikolas.
"It's fine. Are you done yet?" he answered.
It was obvious Nikolas didn't appreciate the joys of shopping, even when they had the entire mall to themselves. Isabel loved it. No matter how bad she was feeling, shopping always made her feel better. And strolling from shop to shop, taking anything she wanted, made her feel like the queen of the world.
Well, she wasn't exactly taking anything. More like borrowing. She planned to leave the stuff in the mall when she was done playing.
She studied the bracelet. "It's a little too quiet, I think. A little too upscale suburban mom's special anniversary present." Isabel pulled off the bracelet and tossed it on the counter. She wondered where they kept the really good stuff.
Aha. There was a safe underneath the register. "Nikolas, open, please."
Nikolas gave a little growl in his throat, but he used his power to pop open the safe. "You could do this yourself if you bothered to work at it," he told her.
Isabel reached into the safe and pulled out three velvet bags. She opened the first one. "This is more like it," she said. She slipped the pearl chain around her neck. The heart-shaped ruby pendant fell just above her breasts. It would look so perfect with a low-cut evening gown, like they wore at the Oscars. She was going to have to get her one of those.
"One more minute and I'm out of here," Nikolas warned her.
Isabel shot a quick glance at him, evaluating. No, he wasn't serious. He wasn't going anywhere.
She opened the next bag and gave a little sigh of happiness. She'd always thought she should have a tiara. She gently placed the circlet of glittering diamond-studded silver leaves on her head.
"Just one more," she told Nikolas. She greedily tore open the last bag. It was the biggest diamond ring she had ever seen. A rock with a capital R. "That is too tacky," she pronounced. "It looks like something you'd get out of a bubble gum machine."
"So can we go?" Nikolas asked.
"Yes, we can go." She dropped the ring back in its sack and tossed the sack back in the safe.
"Let's hit the food court," Nikolas said.
"Okay, it's upstairs." Isabel grabbed Nikolas's hand and headed toward the escalator. She kept taking little peeks at herself in the store windows. Mmm-hmm. She was definitely born to wear jewels. She could get very used to this.
The sound of their footsteps on the metal escalator stairs sent a bunch of little shivers down her spine. She still wasn't used to how quiet the mall was. She'd never been here when there weren't crowds of people—shopping, strolling, eating, talking, flirting people.
"You're sure that security guard won't wake up while we're still here?" she asked.
"Does the word gutless mean anything to you?" Nikolas answered.
Isabel could hear that tone in his voice. That tone that meant in another second he was going to be seriously pissed. But she had to ask one more question.
"He's going to be okay, though, right?" Isabel said. "I mean, he will wake up eventually? 'Cause Max said Liz would have had to have surgery if he hadn't been there."
She hated the hesitant sound she heard in her own voice. Sometimes when she was with Nikolas, she didn't even feel like herself. She was still way too worried about what he thought about her, if he liked her, if he would keep coming around. All that garbage that she used to think other girls were pathetic for feeling.
"I am going to say this to you one more time," he said, his voice harsh. "I squeezed Liz a little harder than I meant to because I was so mad at Max. Now drop it, all right?"
It wasn't a question. Isabel knew if she didn't drop it, Nikolas would leave her standing there.
"Can we stop at the drugstore?" Isabel asked, ignoring the fact that Nikolas hadn't exactly answered her question about whether the guard would be okay or not.
"Yeah, all right." He didn't sound happy about it, but he popped the lock on the double glass doors and led the way inside. As soon as he used his powers to break the lenses of the security cameras Isabel dragged him to the back of the store, where there was one of those old photo booths. She slid onto the little stool and pulled Nikolas down next to her.
"You are going to owe me big time for this," he said.
"Do you have quarters?" Isabel asked.
Nikolas snorted. "I don't need quarters. Now smile pretty, and let's get this over with."
"Wait!" Isabel exclaimed. "I'll be right back." She squeezed past Nikolas and ran over to the stationery aisle. She grabbed a big pad of drawing paper and a box of crayons and rushed back to the booth. She climbed back inside and sat on Nikolas's lap, then jerked the curtain shut.
"Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea," he said, pulling her tighter against him.
Isabel flipped open the pad and selected a bright red crayon from the box. She wrote the words Hi, Stacey in big letters. She added a few exclamation marks. "Okay, now I'm ready," she told Nikolas.
Nikolas started the camera, and Isabel leaned close and licked the side of his face, just to give Stacey something to really think about when she saw the picture. Well, that, and because Nikolas tasted good.
He grabbed the pad away from her, flipped the page, and scribbled the words Hi, Alex on it. Then he kissed her, really, totally, thoroughly kissed her. The camera flashed again and again.
Even when the camera stopped flashing, Nikolas didn't stop kissing. He threaded his hands through her hair, his fingers warm and gentle. She twisted around until she was straddling him and wrapped her arms around his back. She could never get close enough.
She couldn't stop herself from giving a little moan when Nikolas pulled away a fraction, breaking their kiss. "Uh-uh," Isabel said. She cupped his face in her hands, pulling him back toward her.
"Shhh. I think I hear someone out there," he whispered. He slid the curtain open a fraction and peered out. "Yeah. Look in that mirror mounted in the corner."
Isabel leaned back and checked the mirror. A uniformed security guard was slowly walking up the shampoo aisle. Heading in their direction.
"Are you going to go get him?" Isabel whispered.
"No. You are," he answered.
Isabel shook her head. "I can't. I don't know how."
"Yes, you do." Nikolas wasn't smiling. But he had to be kidding. Or testing her or something. When the guy got closer, Nikolas would knock him out. He had to.
"Just pick a vein in his head and squeeze," Nikolas said.
Isabel checked the mirror again. The guard was walking down the row with all the nylons and socks. He was headed away from them now.
"Hey," Nikolas yelled. "We're back here."
"What did you do that for?" Isabel cried.
"You get him, or we get caught," he answered.
Isabel stared at him. His golden brown eyes were cool as he stared back. He was serious.
An image of Valenti flashed into Isabel's mind. If she got caught, she'd be turned over to him. He'd find out the truth about her; she knew it. She could almost feel the cold metal dissecting tools cutting into her body.
The photo booth's curtain flew, open. Isabel didn't think. She flung herself at the guard, knocking him to the ground. She scrambled down beside him and pressed her fingers against his forehead.
But the connection, she couldn't get the connection. She was too scared. Too panicked.
She felt Nikolas touch the back of her neck, and suddenly she was in. She focused on the guard's brain. She picked a blood vessel, one that didn't look too big, and pinched with her mind.
The guard's pain and confusion came slamming back at her through their connection. I'm hurting him, she thought. He feels this. He knows it's happening. The sensation sickened her, but she didn't let up the pressure until the guard's eyes fluttered shut.
"Good. You did good." Nikolas touched the guard's head for a moment, then pulled Isabel to her feet.
Isabel couldn't take her eyes off the guard. His face was pale, but he was breathing.
"Sorry I tricked you into doing it," Nikolas said. "But I wanted you to see what it was like."
Max would be horrified by what I just did, Isabel thought. His big thing was not using their power to do harm. Never.
She rubbed her face with her hands, and her fingers came away wet. Was she crying? She wiped her face again. She hoped Nikolas didn't notice.
It doesn't matter what Max would think, Isabel told herself. She was making her own decisions. She was living her own life. She wasn't his little Isabel puppet.
The guard was fine. He's just basically taking a little snooze, she thought. Hey, it wasn't a bad way to spend his shift. Isabel reached up and adjusted the tiara.
"It's a rush, isn't it?" Nikolas asked.
If she said no, he would think she was a total loser.
Isabel smiled at him. "Yeah."

——===——

"Anyone else have any ideas where to look?" Max asked. He turned the Jeep onto Main Street.
"Everyplace is pretty much closed," Alex said. "Maybe we should try the cave." And if they are there, what am I going to do about it? he thought. It's not like anything I can say will have any influence over Isabel. That's already been made most clear. And Nikolas—I'm sure he'd be happy just to squash me, or whatever he calls it, again.
"I don't think closed means much to Nikolas and Isabel," Michael answered.
"Yeah," Liz agreed. "And the two of them obviously like to go out and party. They probably wouldn't head straight to the cave."
Unless they want to go back to their cozy little spot on the sleeping bag, Alex thought.
"Let's try the school," Maria suggested.
"Yeah, when I hear the word party, I think of school," Michael said.
"But don't you think breaking into the school and turning it into your own amusement park might be sort of fun?" she asked.
"Can't hurt to try." Max turned left, and a siren started up behind them.
Alex glanced over his shoulder and saw the spinning blue light of Sheriff Valenti's cruiser. Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse.
Max pulled over to the curb and stopped. The cruiser's door shut with a click, and Valenti started toward them. The sound of his boot heels on the pavement made Alex's teeth hurt. Would Valenti remember it was Alex who told him that the alien he was looking for was heading out of town in a green truck? Would he think it was suspicious that Alex was in the same car as Liz, who Valenti already thought knew something about aliens in Roswell?
Too late to worry about it now, he thought. He tried to keep a basically normal expression on his face as Valenti stepped up to Max and asked for his license and registration.
Max handed them over. Valenti took a long look, then handed them back. He glanced from person to person, making eye contact with everyone in the Jeep. Alex couldn't tell if Valenti recognized him or not. His expression didn't change or anything, but he seemed like a pretty cold, controlled guy, so he might remember every detail of his last encounter with Alex.
"Ms. Ortecho." Valenti moved down and stood right next to Liz. "I've been . . . interested in meeting some of your friends for a long time."
"We're just doing a science project for school together," Liz answered. "It's an astronomy thing."
"We're driving out to the desert so we can look at the stars without interference from any of the town lights," Max added quickly.
Max and Liz were always totally in sync. It was moronic that they weren't together. A total waste. Alex could understand Max wanting to keep Liz safe. But all of them would always be there to handle Valenti or anything else together. Max needed to give up this idea that he had to protect everyone all by himself.
"You're heading the wrong way," Valenti said.
He was right. To get to the desert, they should be heading either north or south. But they'd been driving east. "We were going to my house first," Alex said. "I forgot to bring the graph paper."
"Graph paper," Valenti repeated.
Alex felt little tremors running through Maria. He slid his arm around her. "Uh-huh. It's easier to map out the stars with graph paper."
"Well, as you've been driving all over town, have you noticed anything unusual?" the sheriff asked.
"No, nothing," Max said. "It's been totally quiet."
Valenti's beeper went off. He checked the number. "All right. You can go." He strode back to his cruiser.
"He's looking for Nikolas and Isabel, too," Liz said when Valenti was out of earshot.
"Yeah, but at least he doesn't know that's who he's looking for," Michael said. "And he won't if we find them first."
"But we don't know where they are," Maria protested.
Alex watched Valenti's cruiser speed past them. "I have a feeling Valenti might have just found that out. Let's follow him."
Max and Michael could both see a little better at night than they could during the day, so it wasn't hard for them to keep Valenti in sight without him knowing it. When he pulled into the mall's parking lot, Max drove around to the other side of the mall and parked on the street. They all climbed out of the Jeep and ran across the parking lot.
"We should have thought of the mall," Maria said. "What cooler place could there be to have all to yourself?"
Michael tried one of the side doors. "Locked," he announced.
"We moved a truck with our power. I guess we can move a door," Max said.
Michael shrugged. "Nikolas can certainly do it, so that means we can, too. We just have to figure out how." Michael got quiet, just sort of staring at the door. Max too. He looked like he was in a trance or something.
The door's hinges squealed, and a moment later the door slammed to the ground. I hope Valenti didn't hear that, Alex thought.
"I guess we can assume Nikolas has taken care of the security guards," Liz said softly as they stepped inside.
"Yeah—I've been feeling bursts of power all night. Let's split up so we can find Isabel and Nikolas faster," Max answered. "I'll take one group. Michael, you take the other. I don't want anyone to be without power if they need it."
"Okay, I'll go upstairs with Alex and Maria, you stay downstairs with Liz," Michael agreed. He took off without another word. Alex and Maria fell in behind him.
They climbed up the escalator and started down the walkway. Alex tried to put his feet down gently. Valenti was out there somewhere, listening.
Michael pointed to the food court. It was obvious Nikolas and Isabel had been there. Half the little stands were lit up, and the smells were too strong to have come from food cooked when the mall was still open.
"Over there," Maria whispered. She trotted toward a drugstore with the security gate up. Alex and Michael followed her inside.
Without discussing it, they split up, each taking an aisle. They're not here, Alex thought. It's way too quiet. Unless they figured out that Valenti was in the mall and were hiding.
He noticed a pair of shoes lying at the end of his aisle. No, not shoes. Feet. He ran forward. A sharp acid taste hit the back of his throat when he saw a security guard lying on the floor.
A few seconds later Michael and Maria reached the end of their rows. Michael rushed over and laid his hand on the guard's forehead.
"No, no, no," Maria whispered.
"He's okay," Michael said. "I'm going to let him wake up on his own, though, or we'd have to tie him up or something."
Maria swayed on her feet as she stared at the guard. "Come here. Come sit down a minute," Alex said. He grabbed her by the arm and led her over to the photo booth. He sat her down on the little stool. The last thing they needed was for Maria to faint now.
He backed up to give her some air—and bumped into the photo machine. There was a strip of photos in the slot. Someone forgot their pictures. Alex picked them up and saw Nikolas and Isabel. Nikolas and Isabel practically eating each other's faces off.
Suddenly Alex felt like he needed to sit down, too. He looked at the pictures again and noticed that Nikolas was holding a sign in some of them.
It said, Hi, Alex.

—=(13)=—

"Let's try Victoria's Secret," Liz whispered. "That seems like an Isabel kind of place." She could practically see Isabel going crazy on a one-girl lingerie shopping spree.
Max nodded. They hurried over to the store. The gate was open, and the door was unlocked. But when they stepped inside, the place was empty.
"I want to check the dressing rooms," Liz said. "Maybe they figured out Valenti's after them and they're hiding." She made her way to the back of the store, the silky fabrics brushing against her as she squeezed between the rows of nightgowns and robes and teddies.
Suddenly Max grabbed Liz by the hand and dove behind the counter where the registers were lined up. "I hear something."
A second later she heard it, too. The sound of footsteps, coming closer. Valenti. Liz was sure it was Valenti. Nikolas would have knocked out the security guards. Alex, Michael, and Maria were upstairs. And there was no way Nikolas and Isabel would be moving through the mall so slowly, so deliberately.
Max wedged himself under the counter. He rolled onto his back and pulled Liz on top of him. She buried her head in his chest and squeezed her eyes closed. She could hear the hangers clicking together as Valenti moved through the store.
Do the periodic chart, Liz told herself. Whenever she wanted to calm herself down, she would recite all the elements and their atomic weights. It's like it reminded her the world was a sane, orderly place. But right now she couldn't remember anything. Not one fact.
Liz could feel Max's heart beating against her cheek. She focused on the rhythm and felt her muscles relax the tiniest bit. No matter what happened, Max was with her. That helped. That helped a lot more than the periodic chart ever did.
Valenti's footsteps moved closer. Liz heard a soft hiss as he ran his fingers across the top of the counter. He was practically on top of them.
Max tightened his arms around her. She felt the connection start up between them, and she was flooded with a wave of love from Max. She felt her own love for Max pouring out to him.
He could say they were just friends as much as he wanted. He could refuse to ever go to the movies with her, or dance with her, or do anything remotely couplelike. But none of that mattered. Because people who were just friends didn't feel this way about each other.
Liz heard hangers clicking again. Then silence. Valenti was gone.
She lifted her head and stared down into Max's blue eyes. "I—," she began.
He pressed his fingers against her lips. He was right. It was too soon to talk. They needed to wait until Valenti was farther away.
Max kept his eyes locked on hers as he gently traced the curves of her upper lip with his finger. Then he brushed his thumb across her lower lip.
He continued to explore her face with his hands. He ran his fingers over her chin and around the dimple in her left cheek. He traced the line of her nose and the arc of each of her eyebrows. His touch was so light, like a warm feather caressing her.
And his eyes. His eyes followed the motions of his hands. He studied every detail of her face, almost as if he were trying to memorize it.
Liz couldn't stand it. She had to touch him, too. She lowered her head and brushed his cheek with her own. The rough stubble against her smooth skin made her shiver.
She continued using her face to explore his. She rubbed her nose against Max's and leaned even closer to tickle his eyelashes with her own. A butterfly kiss. That's what she and Maria called touching eyelashes when they were little girls.
Liz moved her head lower and grazed Max's lips with hers. Light and fast. Then she smoothed her chin across his.
Max took a ragged breath and wove his hands through her hair. He pulled her mouth back to his. He ran his tongue across her lips, urging them apart.
There was nothing gentle about his loss. It was hot and desperate, as if he couldn't stand to wait another second.
Then suddenly he pulled away. "Valenti should be gone," he said.
Liz blinked.
Was he just going to pretend it hadn't happened? Was he really going to try and pretend they were still just friends?
She stared down at Max, but now he wouldn't meet her gaze.
"We have to find Isabel," he said.
Liz slid off him and pushed herself to her feet. She wrapped her arms around herself. It felt so cold without the warmth of Max's body.

——===——

Isabel ran her hands down her sides, down the dip of her waist and over the curve of her hips. Yeah, this dress fit. She loved the intricate embroidery that circled the hem. And the low neckline showed off the ruby heart pendant.
She didn't have the right shoes, though. Maybe she'd have to hit Macy's shoe department next. How was she supposed to give Nikolas a real fashion show without the right shoes?
Max was always teasing her about the number of pairs of shoes she had. He didn't understand that shoes were the key to a really great outfit.
Max. Why did she have to think about him right now? Thinking about Max made her think about the security guard. The guy's just taking a nap, that's all, she reminded herself.
She winced as she remembered the sensation of pinching the blood vessel in the guard's head. I hurt him. The thought just popped into her mind.
Okay, so she hurt him. A little. What could she do about it now? Nothing.
Isabel pulled her hair into a ponytail and then twisted it into a chignon. A dress this elegant deserved an elegant hairstyle. She checked the mirror. Perfect. Time to start Nikolas's private runway fashion show. She looked at the other dresses she'd picked out to model. They were gorgeous, too, but the idea of changing clothes so many more times just made her feel . . . tired.
Maybe she should tell Nikolas she wanted to go home. But would he—
"Turn around slowly and put your hands on the wall." The deep voice jerked Isabel out of her thoughts. She knew that voice. It was the voice from her nightmares.
Valenti was out there with Nikolas! The hem of her gown started to vibrate. Isabel stared at it stupidly. It's because I'm trembling, she realized.
Remember what Nikolas said, she ordered herself. You have the power. You don't have to be afraid of Valenti or anyone else.
She stepped out of the dressing room and tiptoed down the narrow hall. She grabbed the gown's long skirt in both hands and pulled it up. She might need to be able to move fast.
Isabel peeked past the curtain shielding the entrance to the dressing rooms. She pressed her fingers against her lips to keep from crying out. Sheriff Valenti had a gun pointed at Nikolas.
"Turn around slowly and put your hands against the wall," Valenti repeated, his voice flat and emotionless.
Do it, Nikolas, Isabel thought. When Nikolas turned around, Valenti would start toward him. He'd walk in front of the curtain, and Isabel would reach out and squeeze his brain until he dropped. She wouldn't feel bad about it. No one was going to hurt Nikolas.
Nikolas didn't move to obey Valenti. He just smiled. He obviously planned to play with the sheriff a little.
A gunshot blasted. Nikolas fell to the ground with a thud.
Nikolas lay still. His golden aura flickered once and then disappeared as if someone had flipped a switch.
How could his aura disappear? Valenti couldn't kill Nikolas. Valenti was human. Just a weak, pathetic human. It didn't happen. It couldn't have happened, Isabel thought. In a second Nikolas will jump up and squash Valenti.
But Nikolas didn't move.
Valenti strode toward the body. The curtain billowed against Isabel as he passed, filling her nose with a chalky, musty odor.
I should change back into my own clothes before he finds me, she thought.
She turned and slowly walked down the hall. Her feet felt numb. She couldn't feel them touching the floor. Maybe I'm floating. Maybe that's why. Maybe I'm a ghost. An alien ghost. She felt a giggle rise up inside her. But she shouldn't laugh. Wolves liked laughing girls. They liked to gobble them down. It made their tummies happy.
Isabel stepped into the dressing room and slipped off the gown. The beautiful gown. She removed the tiara and the ruby pendant. She shouldn't be wearing them, anyway. She should be wearing a red cape with a hood. She should be on her way to Grandma's house, not in the mall. And the wolf shouldn't have a gun. Why wasn't the wolf following the story?
She pulled on her jeans and her lacy shirt. Then she curled up in the comer, closed her eyes, and waited for the wolf to find her.
Yes, she could hear him now. Hear his boots moving down the little hallway. Boots on a wolf. That wasn't the way it was supposed to happen.

——===——

"That was a gunshot." Max stumbled back a step. He'd just felt a massive bolt of terror from Isabel. Had she been shot? Did Valenti have her?
"I think it came from Macy's," Liz cried. She took off, running full out past the fountain in the mall's center courtyard.
Max was right behind her. They burst through the store's main doors. Liz grabbed his arm and signaled him to slow down. She was right. There was no point in announcing to Valenti that they were there.
He moved forward quickly and quietly, scanning the perfume and makeup counters in front of him. Everything looked normal.
At least Isabel is still alive, he thought as he headed deeper into the store. He wished he could send her a mental message telling her he was here and that she was going to be okay. But it didn't work like that. He couldn't have silent conversations with Isabel or Michael. He could just feel their feelings.
And Isabel's fear felt overwhelming.
Liz touched his shoulder and pointed to her nose. Then she pointed off to the left. At first Max couldn't figure out what she was trying to tell him. Then he smelled it. The firecracker odor of gunpowder.
He strode toward the smell. He turned the comer into one of the little dress boutiques—and saw Nikolas lying on the ground with Valenti standing over him.
Max and Liz ducked down behind a rack of long dresses. Max leaned out and took a quick look. Nikolas's aura was gone. He was dead. Valenti had murdered him.
Where was Isabel? The thought repeated itself again and again until Max felt like he was going nuts. Why didn't he run outside and pull her off Nikolas's motorcycle tonight? Why didn't he force her to come downstairs and watch that stupid movie with him?
Max risked another look at Valenti. The sheriff stood up and headed behind the curtain leading to the dressing rooms. Max's stomach cramped. Isabel could be back there, trapped.
"I'm going to distract Valenti. You find Isabel," Liz said.
Before he could answer, Liz let out a high, shrill scream. She leaped to her feet and ran toward the exit, still shrieking. A few seconds later Valenti charged out of the dressing area. As soon as he was out of sight Max sprang up and raced over to the row of changing rooms.
"Isabel?" he called softly. There was no answer. He hoped wherever she was, she had seen Liz leading Valenti out of the store. He turned around and started back through the curtain. He hesitated when he thought he heard a low sound behind him. He stood still and listened until he heard the sound again. A muffled whimpering. Isabel.
He followed the sound to one of the dressing rooms. He swung the door open and saw Isabel curled up in the corner.
"Isabel, we have to get out of here." Max bent down and touched her shoulder. She flinched, but she didn't look up. She kept her head pressed tightly down against her knees.
"It's Max," he said softly. "You're okay, Izzy. Everything is okay. But I need you to come with me." He took her by the shoulders and urged her to her feet. He brushed her hair away from her face, and she opened her eyes.
"What are you doing here?" she whispered.
"I'm your brother. Where else would I be?" he answered. He grabbed her hand and led her out of the room and down the hall. She hesitated before each step, as if she'd almost forgotten how to walk.
"Little Red Ridinghood doesn't have a brother," she mumbled.
Max tilted her chin up. "You'll go faster if you don't stare at your feet," he told her. She obediently kept her eyes locked straight in front of her, but her steps were still slow.
"Remember how you used to beg me to give you piggyback rides?" he asked. He scooped her up and carried her to the exit that led straight out to the parking lot.
When he set her on her feet, she seemed a little less out of it. She pulled in deep breaths of the night air. "Where's Nikolas?" she asked.
"I don't know," Max answered. He couldn't tell her the truth. Not right now.

——===——

Maria heard a long, shrill scream, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. "That's Liz!" she cried. She raced out of the drugstore, Michael and Alex right behind her.
Another scream echoed through the mall. It sounded like it was coming from the lower level. Maria dashed to the rail around the upper walkway and peered down.
"There!" Alex pointed toward Macy's. Liz was running down the main walkway below them. And Valenti was closing in behind her.
They had to do something. But they would never make it downstairs before Valenti caught Liz.
"Come with me," Maria ordered. She had an idea. But they had to move fast. She darted back into the drugstore. She needed something. Something she could throw. Where? Where?
She spotted a stack of soda six-packs. That could work. She grabbed three of them and tore back to the railing. She ripped off one of the soda cans and hurled it at Valenti. It didn't get close to hitting him.
"You're a genius," Michael exclaimed as he ran up to the rail with a couple of six-packs. He didn't bother pulling off one of the cans. He threw the whole thing at Valenti. It slammed into the sheriff's back. He stumbled and went down.
"Whoa," Alex cried.
"Power," Michael explained.
"Just run!" Maria yelled. She raced toward the escalator. She felt something slide under her foot—and then she was on the ground.
She started to shove herself to her feet and felt something cool and hard under her fingers. A gold ring. As she watched, it began to glow. Glow.
Maria stared at it, drawn into the deep golden light.
"Maria! Are you okay?" Michael called.
Maria's head jerked back up. "Yeah." She stuffed the ring into her pocket, leaped to her feet, and sprinted down after Michael and Alex. She didn't think that Valenti would be down for long.

——===——

Max stared at the doors. Come on, come on, he thought. We have to get out of here. It's not safe.
He wondered if he should go in after Liz. But the mall was so big that it would be easy to miss her. She could end up out here waiting for him.
And besides, he couldn't leave Isabel alone. He shot a glance at his sister. She was staring into space. She didn't even look that scared. Just totally out of it.
Max shifted from foot to foot. He wanted to do something. But there was nothing he could do.
Did Valenti have them all? What would he do with them if he did?
The double glass doors flew open and Maria, Michael, Alex, and Liz raced out. "He's right behind us," Maria shrieked.
The doors burst open again, and Valenti tore through. He reached out and grabbed Liz by the arm. She tried to twist away, but the sheriff wouldn't let go.
Max started forward. He wasn't just going to watch this happen.
A loud crack of thunder rocked the parking lot, and a ball of bright white light exploded around the entire mall.
Max dashed up and grabbed Liz, yanking her away from Valenti.
"What's happening?" Alex yelled.
"Look at Valenti!" Maria cried.
Max stared at the sheriff. He stood inside the circle of blazing light—completely motionless.
"That should hold him for a few minutes—and he won't remember a thing," a calm voice said from behind them.
Max spun around and saw Ray Iburg. His crazy boss.
Ray scratched his head. "Did I forget to tell you? I'm not from around here, either."