PART 3
Maria woke up to a silent, dark house and couldn’t remember where she was for a moment. Then the day’s events caught up with her. She was surprised to realize how easily she fell asleep. She had a bit of an insomnia problem and couldn’t fall asleep if she wasn’t truly exhausted.
She saw that it was nearly midnight. Stumbling towards kitchen, she realized she hadn’t eaten all day. Her worries on Amy’s whereabouts disappeared with the note on the fridge.
/ You were sleeping so peaceful, I couldn’t wake you up. I’ll be with Jim tonight, so don’t expect me. I’ll see you tomorrow…
Welcome back home… AMY /
“Well nothing’s changed around here…” she mumbled, going through the contents of the fridge. She decided on spaghetti and started to boil some water.
She was chopping all vegetables she found to make some sauce when her eyes caught the stars shining bright in the night sky through the kitchen window.
She had missed the stars. She couldn’t see stars this bright in LA, there were too much city lights. She had never realized how
important it was to her until that moment.
“Beautiful…” she sighed.
- - -
Michael came home late. He took a long walk before coming home; he had a ton to think. And as much as he didn’t want to admit, he needed to gather round his courage.
He decided at last that the impact of the kiss was just an illusion. He was just caught surprised. It wasn’t important or special. She wasn’t either. She was just another annoying stupid blond.
He opened the door quietly and slipped inside. He saw the light in the kitchen and walked towards it. He saw her then and all his resolves crumbled.
She was wearing old sweat pants, looking too big on her and a bright green tank top, really old again, but too tight on the contrary. Her tousled hair was threatening his sanity.
He watched her watch the stars and heard her mumble “Beautiful…” He had to agree, the sight in front of him was the definition of true beauty.
He knew at the back of his mind that he had to make his presence known, but he was paralysed, and couldn’t really process the thought. And to be honest he was enjoying that way too much.
But his clumsiness betrayed his intensions. The chair he held in order to not fall watching her, skidded under his grip, and ended up on the floor with a loud thud.
She shrieked and turned around, holding the knife in front of her. When she saw who the intruder was, she became more furious -if it was possible-.
“Do you always sneak up on people like that?” she shouted, annoyed.
“Do you always threaten robbers with tomatoes?” asked Michael nonchalantly, trying to annoy her even more.
She looked puzzled for a moment, then saw the slice of tomato sticking in front of her knife. She didn’t want to, but she couldn’t help herself as she cracked a smile. He was smirking at her. Again.
She had no idea how to act in front of him. She had those really confusing thoughts, running around and occasionally bumping into each other in her mind.
She wanted to be nice to him, cause now that she had seen more into his life, she knew that he was a special person. But she also wanted to be angry with him because every move he made was so damn annoying.
She wanted desperately to kiss him again, for she knew it would be earth shattering. But some part of her wanted to beat him up for kissing her, cause it had woken her up from her long sleep of not-feeling.
She had never felt all those contradicting emotions at once before. There was fury and fear above all the good ones though, for knowing it would never be the knight in shining armour sort of love and happiness with her spiky haired, room stealing, handsome prince. She had seen it happen before; crumbling of all hope. And the desperation left, filling the void. She would never risk it again.
She knew men by now. They acted just the way women wanted them to be like. But that was just it, an act. In reality they really were all same, wearing their masks and pretending until the day they got sick of you.
It was sad, but she was a grown up, so she had finally accepted it. There was no love the way they told you in fairytales. Real life wasn’t made of happy endings, but unhappy memories.
Maria dismissed her thoughts and came back to the real world that was kitchen. She found herself stirring the sauce absentmindedly. She didn’t know if he was still standing there and was too afraid to look.
Her anger took over once again for feeling like a shy high school girl over just a kiss, with just another guy. “You had sex with men you knew less than that Bobo guy, at least he was at your house, right? So don’t start all that Like A Virgin crap, we all know you are far from it! Remember that guy from the party at Nelson’s…” She let Tom’s ranting voice trail off in her head. She had gotten the message.
He was just a normal guy, nothing special. She had been too upset over her own misery, her subconscious had tried to make him some saviour or something. She liked the sound of that thought and the fact that she had figured it all out herself this time, without therapy. And she had done it before it got out of hand, which sure was a huge plus.
She turned around with her newfound courage and determination. He was standing there looking at her, as if he was expecting her to do something. She found her first impression of him ridiculous now. He really was just another guy. She dated lots of men similar to him. She was relaxed; there was nothing new there.
“So…” she began “…are you hungry?”
“Depends on what you’re makin’…”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Oh that’s polite. I made spaghetti and some sauce with those weird things you got in the fridge. And you know what; if you don’t like it, you can eat whatever the hell you want.”
She turned her back to him and started to fill her plate. He wasn’t smirking anymore. He walked towards her, got as close to her as humanly possible without touching; reached up, and grabbed a plate. He looked down for a moment and met her furious eyes.
“I like spaghetti.”
She fought herself not to look at his lips and waver her angry gaze…
“You better, cause that’s all you’ll get.”
She took her plate and pushed past him, walking towards the living room.
- - -
Maria sat on the couch, put her plate on her lap, and turned on the TV. After flipping through channels for a minute, she decided on MTV.
Michael didn’t hesitate while sitting next to her on the couch. They sat and ate in silence. But Maria couldn’t help herself when Michael put a third layer of Tabasco on his second plate of spaghetti.
“What’s with the Tabasco?”
“I like it.” His answer was short and simple, as always.
“If you keep eating that much of it, you’ll probably have ulcer by the end of the decade you know.”
“I appreciate the concern but it really is none of your business.”
“You know what, you can just drop dead; I don’t care. I’m just trying to have a civil conversation here.”
“Well don’t!”
“It doesn’t seem possible anyway.”
She got up and left without giving him another look. She went to the backyard and lay down on the grass. She remembered doing the exact same thing whenever her mother and father fought when she was a little kid. Watching the stars always had some calming effect on her.
She remembered her father teaching her about the names of the stars and constellations. Showing her how to use the telescope, which later he had taken away with his other possessions when he had left. She could see herself playing with Liz and Alex in this backyard before they had started school. Too many memories, too many feelings…
Two hours later she was still there in the same place, same position, but with an empty bottle of red wine next to her. She was reliving everything that had happened since she had left Roswell. She didn’t realize her tears streaming down her cheeks. She was in too deep.
She felt something soft on her. Her eyes snapped open and caught the now-too-familiar brown ones. He was putting a blanket on her.
“I’m not asleep.” She said. Her eyes had a serious problem of focusing.
“I know, you’ll catch a cold.”
“Like you care.”
“Shut up.”
She wasn’t annoyed or angry or anything. It felt like a routine, normal way of communicating with him.
“So, why are you living alone, here with my mom?” She was too drunk to think about not pushing him.
“Do you have any better ideas?”
“Well, there’s always this having your own place thing, or living with your family, or all time favourite get the hell out of Roswell thing. Pick one.”
“Don’t have a family, that’s out. Don’t have enough money so your own place thing is out too. I got out of Roswell once but I had to come back. But believe me I’m working on a permanent escape. And for now; Amy is cool and the room is cheap.”
Her memory started to find some really old and forgotten pictures. A spiky haired little boy without any family; never talking to anyone except Max and Isabel Evans. And a young man, still with the spiky hair, walking through corridors of high school, never giving anyone a look, a smile, a chance… How had she forgotten? How couldn’t she just make the connection?
“Oh God, you’re Michael!” she said looking at him with big eyes.
“I thought we were over this; I’m Michael, you’re Maria…”
“No, I mean, I just never realized which Michael you are.”
“And which Michael am I?” He had no idea what she was talking about.
It was all coming back to her now. Like her memory had a door named Michael and she had just found the key…
“Michael Guerin” she stated, puzzling him.
He knew they had gone to school together, but he had never thought she would remember him. They never had once talked and he wasn’t the type of guy that girls payed attention.
He remembered Maria clearly though. She was loud and full of life. He remembered her curls and how much he liked watching them bounce when she ran around with Alex. And in high school, he remembered feeling disappointed when she cut them short.
She was never one of the beautiful types like Izzie but she was unique and he had always liked that. She had never followed the crowd about anything.
“You must have some really good memory.” He couldn’t find anything else to say.
“Of course I remember you. I should have known it the first time I saw you, but I guess I wasn’t really paying attention to your face…”
He knew she was talking with the courage alcohol gave her or she wouldn’t be this relaxed or open with him. He decided to take the opportunity to talk to her without having to care about what she would think. Because she obviously wasn’t capable of it right now.
“Why did you leave?” he asked. Her life was a mystery to him and it was making it impossible to figure her out. He needed to know more than Amy’s little stories.
She wasn’t even hesitating while answering. She wanted to talk and get things out of her chest.
“My father came back and asked me to go with him.”
Michael knew about her father. How he had left them, why he had left them. So he couldn’t understand why she would just forgive him and go with him, leaving Amy behind.
“So you just took off? How can you do that to Amy?” He was angry. He wasn’t about to admit it, but in five years he had grown to care about Amy.
She sighed while thinking about a way to make him understand.
“I… Have you ever had a childhood dream about changing your life into something better, like in a fairytale? My dream was my father. I knew he never was a good husband or a good person for that matter, but in my memories he was the perfect father. So I had always dreamt of him coming back; rich and powerful and…perfect. He would take us out of Roswell to some better place. But when he came back, it was only for me, not for us. And I made a selfish decision, it apparently was the wrong one…”
She wasn’t looking at him, she was watching the stars. It was as if she was confessing. She didn’t want to see the priest’s face; she just wanted to tell her story, and be forgiven.
Michael wanted to run and forget that the last ten minutes had ever happened. It felt like he was listening to his own story in a parallel universe. The dream of your family coming and taking you away to a better place than Roswell was way too familiar. He never would have thought he could relate to someone like Maria. She was nothing like him. She was so…different.
“So, why was it the wrong one? Wasn’t it somewhere better?” He needed to know what happened next.
“At first, yes, it was better in every possible way. Dad was rich and great, he did everything I wanted. But it didn’t last. He wasn’t changed. He was still afraid of responsibility, so he ran. He couldn’t handle. He left me… Again. And I couldn’t come back, I couldn’t even call and ask for help. I didn’t have any right. I lost everything. I had lost home the moment I made my decision, LA wasn’t home.”
He was angry with her. It wasn’t her fault that the story was this way, but he blamed her anyway. It didn’t have to be like this with him. His story could end happily ever after. It had to or he wouldn’t have anything to live for anymore.
She kept going, interrupting his thoughts.
“But I didn’t let myself give up. I graduated from high school with the help of my experience of waiting tables at The Crashdown. And then I built my own home. And I did it. Now I have a home, a car, and a good job in LA waiting for me. I have friends. But I know they’ll never replace what I had lost.”
“What did you lose?”
“Mom, Liz, Alex... They’ll never forgive me. I don’t have any right to ask for forgiveness. I deserve much worse anyway.”
She paused for a moment. “You don’t understand, do you?” She still wasn’t looking at him.
He sighed. “Maybe I do.”
She turned to look at him. “You do?”
“Maybe.”
He didn’t want to explain. She couldn’t possibly understand without knowing the whole truth and telling her was out of the question. So he changed the subject.
“They don’t hate you.”
“Who?”
“Amy, Liz, Alex.”
“How would you know that? You don’t even know Liz and Alex.”
“Well, Roswell isn’t exactly the way you left it. Things changed a lot in seven years.”
“You’re telling me that you’re friends with Liz and Alex?” she asked with disbelief.
“Kind of. Not by choice. Liz is Max’s fiancée. Alex is Isabel’s boyfriend for like five or six years now.”
“Oh. My. God.” She was speechless. Her hand covering her mouth, she looked at him, her eyes wide open.
She sat there for ten minutes, stupefied. “Are they here?” she asked when she found her voice again.
“Yeah, they must be here right now.”
“What…what are they doing? Tell me about them.” She was pleading him with her eyes.
“Well, I’m not exactly best friends with them, but I know that Liz is some kind of a biologist and she’s living with Max in Albuquerque. Isabel is a model, not a big one at that, but she makes good money and she always travels; so Alex never has a stable job. He always travels with her, writes songs and does some computer business; I don’t really know much about it. But they always come back here, Roswell is home base.”
“It’s like Twilight Zone.”
“Yeah I know.”
“Will you see them tomorrow?”
“Maybe, why?”
“I need to meet them sooner or later. Maybe you could tell them, you know, that I was in town and they could see me if they wanted to or something…”
He was watching her squirm, with amusement. “You, princess, are a coward.”
She threw him a deadly glare, but couldn’t lie. “Well maybe I am a little scared.” She admitted in a small voice.
“I’ll invite them over tomorrow night, how’s that?”
She wanted to scream too soon! but even with her drunken mind, she knew that putting off wouldn’t help. She managed to nod before her eyes closed.
She was nearly asleep when he heard her mutter “Don’t call me princess, Bobo…”
- - -
Next day went in a blur. She woke up at noon with a killer headache and drank black coffee till she felt sick but sober and awake. Then her mother came home early to spoil and fuss over her.
She didn’t remember much of the night before. The last thing she remembered was finishing the bottle and next thing she knew was that she woke up in her bed. She had no idea how or when she got there.
So when she heard a really loud gang of people enter the house, she was truly surprised. She went downstairs and heard an excited girl voice say, “Where is she? Where is she?”
“How should I know, I’m not her babysitter.” That was definitely Michael but she had no clue who the others were. She appeared on the last step and felt arms wrapping around her accompanied with a loud shriek.
“Oh my god! It’s really you, you’re back! I thought I’d never see you again!”
“Liz?”
She managed to pull away from the tight hug, to look at her friend’s face. She hadn’t changed much, just grew up a little. She looked more mature and sad. “The sad look may have something to do with her crying.” Maria reasoned.
“Liz, don’t cry… Please…”
“But I’m so happy!” She was smiling now. “You remember Max, right?” She was pulling an uncomfortable looking Max.
“Yes, of course. Hi Max.”
She realized that she somehow knew they were engaged and Isabel and Alex were going out. This was crazy but she was sure, she knew it. She made a mental note about thinking thoroughly about that later and motioned towards Alex.
He hugged her, only saying “I missed you girl!” He really was changed. He had an air of confidence around him, which hadn't been there the last time she had seen him.
She greeted Isabel and they made their way to the kitchen; Liz never leaving her side.
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