Disclaimer: Don't own the characters. Etc. Etc.|
Summary: What if Kyle realized what Max, Isabel, and Michael are?
Category: After Hours
|I figured it out during lunch. It's a funny time to have an epiphany, but you have to take them when they come, right?
I was eating lunch, trying not to smell or taste whatever crap the cafeteria was serving. I was also listening to Dave babble about his woman trouble (he'd have a lot less if he'd stop dating girls who cheated on him), and staring at Liz. Beautiful Liz. Who was sitting with Max Evans.
I was trying to figure out what she saw in Evans. I mean, looking at him, he was just another scrawny piece of shit and his ears-hell, Mickey Mouse has nothing on Max. But Liz was staring at him, looking all googly-eyed. And I knew she was keeping some sort of secret about him.
I looked over at the rest of the people Liz was sitting with. That little fuck Alex. Stone-cold bitch Isabel. Most of the guys on the team thought she was hot, and a couple of them had dated her, but I figured if I wanted my balls frozen off I could go to the North fuckin' Pole. And Guerin...now that kid was weird. Almost never came to school, only talked to Isabel and Max. He'd always been a freak.
Guerin was staring off at the far end of the cafeteria, looking all squinty-eyed and intense. Sometimes I entertained thoughts of whacking him on the back of his head and checking to see if his vision had cleared up. I turned to see what he was looking at.
That really hot cheerleader, Alison Something-or-other, had dropped her books and was giving everyone a view of what was under her t-shirt. Very nice.
I figured that if Guerin was checking her out, he couldn't be that muchof a freak.. Hell, I could practically hear all the guys I was sitting with drooling into their food. But as it turns out, the loser wasn't even looking at Alison. He was staring at the girl who'd bumped into Alison. Liz's best friend, Maria.
I didn't get that. Alison is well, Alison, and Maria-shit, the girl can barely walk in a straight line without falling down. I thought to myself 'Guerin must be some sort of freaking alien to look at DeLuca over Alison.' The thought made me laugh. Guerinas an alien-wouldn't that figure?
Then I stopped laughing. And thought about my father.
My father is obsessed with aliens.
My father is obsessed with Guerin. And the two Evans losers.
I looked over at Michael again. As Maria came over and sat down at the table with Max and the others, Michael got up and walked away. Max stood up, like he was going to go after him, but Isabel grabbed his arm.
Weird. I don't know why, but it stuck me as weird. Maybe because I had finally stopped hating Evans long enough to actually think.
Could it be? Was that the secret Liz knew about Max and the others?
I told myself that I'd been hit in the head once too often during football games.
But then I remembered some other stuff. Who was there when Liz was in that freaky robbery thing at the café? Who was always around when my father was off on some sort of half-assed alien tear? Who were the three freaks who never showed any interest in Liz before, and now were around her all the damn time?
The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Aliens. What better place for aliens to hide then in plain sight, in a town that's famous for its alien viewings? I had a soda can in my hand, and I didn't even realize I was crushing it until Dave punched me on the shoulder. "Man, you're getting soda everywhere. What the hell is your problem?"
Aliens. I almost said that. Can you believe it? But I kept quiet. And I kept thinking.
Max Evans is an alien.
My next thought:
Wait till I tell my father.
"Nothing," I told Dave, and I smiled, a real smile, for the first time in ages. "I'm having a great fucking day." I waited till Liz stopped making puppy eyes at Evans and looked in my direction. I nodded at her and she looked away.
I told myself it was ok, and that soon things would be normal again.
The end of school couldn't come fast enough for me. I decided to confront Evans after school because then there wouldn't be any teachers around to prevent me from beating the crap out of him. I sat in my last class and stared at the clock. I swear, it was moving backwards.
Finally, it showed two minutes left.
The teacher blabbed about some test next week.
Liz wrote it down in her notebook. She sits two seats up and over from me.
She'd written Max's name in her notebook.
Next week, I told myself, it'll be my name and Evans will be gone. God, I couldn't wait.
Then there was only one minute left.
Maria turned and whispered something to Liz. Maria had a huge hickey on her neck. I looked at it, a little puzzled. A hickey? DeLuca? I didn't know she was dating anyone. Hell, I didn't know anyone noticed the girl was alive.
Then it hit me.
He ran from Maria like she was a loaded gun. I guess he was fucking with her, literally, and feeling all squirrelly about it.
That clinched it for me. Don't know why-like I said, maybe it was because I finally stopped thinking about how much I hated Evans and started figuring out why Liz and Maria and Alex all acted freaky whenever anyone asked them about Guerin or Evans or Isabel.
The bell rang.
I was halfway to the parking lot before I realized that I had football practice.
I probably should have gone. I could make all-state this year, and that would be good. Really good. Everyone would be happy. The old man might even take the night off from work to come to the awards banquet.
But, I asked myself, wouldn't it be better to see my father, beaming with pride as I dragged Max Evans up to him, told him I'd found his aliens?
Yeah, that would be better.
I figured I could skip practice for that.
I tried to add up how much time I would need. Ten minutes to Evans' house. Five to tell him I knew. Three or so to beat the living snot out of him. Fifteen minutes to get to my dad. A little over thirty minutes to glory.
Not bad, I told myself. I caught a glimpse of Liz's head as she walked through the parking lot. Oh yeah, I was ready to confront the alien wonder.
The Evans'house is pretty nice. I don't know what they do, but they must make a ton of money. Way more than my dad does. I parked like four houses down from their place, not wanting to tip Max off in any way. As I was walking across the Evans' lawn I wondered about Mr. and Mrs. Evans. Would they miss Max and Isabel?
See, that's the pisser about me. I think too goddamn much. I should be dating some brainless cheerleader who'd fuck my brains out every weekend, but instead I fell for Liz, who's pretty, but not *that* pretty.
No, Liz isn't like Alison what's-her-name. But she's smart, and sweet, and I can talk to her. It's not that I don't like talking about school, and sports, and shit. But there's more to life. There's got to be. Otherwise-
Well, it would suck. I want to be with someone who can think about things other than next week, can talk about stuff other than 'Will we win the big game next week?', and 'Hey, isn't it cool that your dad is the sheriff?'
I almost told Liz a lot of stuff that I've never told anyone. I'm glad I didn't, now.
I rang the Evans' doorbell. I was still thinking about what to do when I saw Max. I thought that maybe I should punch him in the face right when he opened the door, and then tell him that I knew. Or maybe I should make him sweat, and then tell him? And then I realized something. What if Liz was there?
The door opened.
Oh goody, I thought. The bitchy alien. I figured I should just do my best to ignore her. Max was the one I really wanted to take to my dad. "Is Max home?"
"No, not yet." She gave me her ice queen look.
Yeah, I thought, I'm so scared. Looking at her, all I could remember was what Tim said after she dumped him last year. "Hot as shit. But a total bitch."
"I'll wait for him" And I just walked inside.
She looked startled for a second; as I pushed my way into the house, but then her face settled back into its usual expression.
I sat on the sofa and put my feet up on the coffee table, loudly.
"Why do you need to see Max?" She looked at me like I'd just crawled out of a dumpster.
"I just need to ask him something"
She rolled her eyes at me and walked off.
Five minutes went by.
Isabel didn't come back, and Max didn't come home. I wondered if she called him, told him to stay away till I left.
I was ready to wait though, so I didn't mind. He'd have to come home sometime.
Max was still a no-show, but I could hear Isabel making a shit load of noise upstairs.
"She must have called him." I muttered, and then felt all stupid when I realized I was talking to myself. Now what was I going to do?
I figured I could take my chances with Isabel again, get her to tell me where Max was, so I walked upstairs. Finding her room was pretty easy. She was playing a Ricky Martin cd so loudly that I checked to see if my ears were bleeding. Seems to me that aliens should have better taste in music.
I turned down her cd player. "Where's Max?"
She was sitting on her bed, reading a book, and she lowered it just a little bit.
"He's not home" She said it slowly, like I was too stupid to understand otherwise.
"When is he coming home?"
"I don't know. I'm not his keeper."
"But what if he has to tell someone he's an alien? Shouldn't he ask you first or something? You seem to be bossy that way"
At first, I didn't think what I said registered, because she just gave me a withering look. Then her face paled and she looked like she was going to throw up.
"What?" Her voice had gotten really quiet.
"You heard me" Well, it wasn't like telling Max, but I figured it was ok. Sort of like practice.
"Don't be stupid" There was contempt in her voice. I think, that if I didn't want it to be true so badly, if I didn't want Evans gone so badly, I might have believed her.
"Did you call Max? Tell him I was here?"
"Yes, I did. He won't be home for hours. You'll have to come back later."
She was lying. I don't know how I knew it, but I did.
Actually, I do know how I knew. When I was a little kid, my dad took me hunting. We were visiting my aunt and uncle in Virginia, and we went out to hunt deer. We sat in the forest for hours. It was so damn cold and I had to be quiet. If you ever had to be still andquiet for hours when you were a kid, you know how hard it is.
Anyway, a deer finally came along. And right before my dad shot it, it looked at me. When I told my dad that, he laughed. But it did. I still dream about it, once in a while. Animals are supposed to be stupid, right?
Well this deer knew what was coming. I could see it. If I was older, I think I would have knocked dad's gun aside, let it go free. But I was young, didn't know anything about hunting. So the deer died, and I helped gut it. My dad said lots of kids threw up when they gutted an animal. We both knew he was lying.
Isabel looked just like that deer did.
I didn't think I could do it. I wanted Evans gone, I wanted to grind him into dust and have things go back to the way they were, but looking at Isabel, I just couldn't bring myself to do it.
"I've got to go" I muttered and I turned to leave.
I think I would have left too, and dropped the whole damn thing. But I happened to look back, just a little. Isabel was still sitting in that same frozen position on her bed, but she was smiling.
It chilled me. She had that look that I've seen on so many people. 'The poor dumb fuck Kyle, he's so stupid' look. I get it a lot, actually. People don't expect me to do anything other than win football games and beat people up. In seventh grade, I wrote a poem about my mom. The teacher gave me that same look Isabel had on her face and told me I'd gotten an F because I'd obviously had someone write the poem for me. You can bet your ass I haven't tried anything like that since. I'd sooner shoot myself.
In that moment, I hated her. I hate the way people look down on me, I hate the way they assume that I'm too stupid to know anything. I held the one thing that could take her life and shred it into a million pieces... and she just figured I was too dumb to do anything about it.
So I turned back into her room, walked over to her bed, and looked down at her. "I think maybe I'll wait for Max anyway. In the meantime, I'd better call my dad."
"Yeah," I told her. "Maybe you should have waited until I left the room to gloat. I mean, I know I'm just 'Kyle Valenti, Idiot Boy,' but even I can figure out I'm being used when you can't fucking wait till I leave the room to start smirking."
"I'm not...I wasn't..." Now she really did look like that damned deer did. Maybe she even felt that way. I didn't care.
"Uh-huh. So do you have like green blood or what?"
She looked down at her hands. I didn't really expect a reply.
"No, it's normal"
"Well, hell" I'm sure I sounded surprised, and I was. You know, I don't think I really believed that she and her brother and Guerin were aliens until then. I mean, I wanted it to be true and all that, but hearing her admit it, even in the smallest of ways.... damn. I felt like I should be sitting down too, so I did. She got up and moved away from me like I had the plague. I seem to have that effect on women. I guess I should add aliens to the list too.
The phone was right there. I could have called my dad. I told myself to do it. But I just sat there. Finally I said "You're really an alien?"
She let out a sob. "Didn't you say you figured it out? Do you need me to write it down for you, or what?"
"I just figured..."
She cut me off, muttering to herself. "Great Isabel, just great. All your lectures to Max and Michael, and what happens? Someone tells you they think you're an alien and you crack." She glared at me. "How did you figure it out?"
I told her lunch, about seeing Guerin and DeLuca, and she started doing this weird thing where she was laughing and crying at the same time. "Perfect" she said. "Just perfect."
I was starting to feel bad again. I shifted a little, trying to figure out what to do.
She flinched and leaned over, placed her hand on the phone.
It melted. It actually melted. I wouldn't have believed it, except I saw it. She melted the phone.
That woke me up. I felt bad that she was crying but all I could think was my God-what if Max got mad at Liz sometime? What would he do to her?
I grabbed Isabel's arm, careful to keep her hand twisted away from me. Didn't want her melting me or whatever. "We're going to see my dad"
She pulled free of my grip and stood in the middle of the room. Her eyes were all red and swollen, but she angled her face downwards, looking up at me. I stared at her, thinking 'What the hell is she doing?' Then I noticed something. There was some sort of big vase looking thing on her dresser. That's what she was trying to get. But how did she plan on bashing it over my head?
"Maybe I could change your mind" she said.
You know, until then, I didn't think it was possible for me to be more upset than I was that time with the poem thing. And that hurt.
But seeing Isabel Evans standing in her room, thinking that I'd be so befuddled by her than I'd let her smash a vase over my head, that made me madder than I've ever been before.
I know I have a crappy reputation. People think, oh there's Kyle Valenti. He's an idiot jock, only thinks about sports and other things that don't have big words. But she thought, really believed, that I'd be so excited by the possibility of a fuck that she could brain me with a vase.
"Sure" I told her. "Maybe you can change my mind."
She blinked at that-I guess she didn't think I'd say that. I felt like screaming 'What did you expect, I'm just Kyle Valenti, asshole extraordinaire.' But instead I just looked at her. She was wearing a tank top and shorts, no shoes. I didn't think anything of it. Like I said before, I remembered what guys on the team said about her. Plus I'd always gone for women like Liz. Tiny, delicate. Thoughtful.
I made of show of leaning back and leering at her. The asshole role-oh, it's one I can play well. Probably because I am one.
She pulled her tank top over her head. I'm sure my mouth fell open, hell, I could practically hear myself staring at her in surprise. I have to give her credit-she's brave. She walked over towards me, making sure to angle herself towards the dresser.
I figured I'd wait till she picked the vase up and then either dodge it or knock it out of her hand. Then I'd haul her down to my dad. And maybe, while Isabel tried her delaying ploys, Max would come home. That's what I really wanted-to confront Evans, to make him admit he wasn't good enough for Liz. I didn't care about Isabel or Guerin, not really.
Her hand reached out, moving towards the dresser. I forced myself to not stare at the vase, to pretend like I didn't know it was there. I feigned a yawn and looked her over. "If you're hoping your bra is going to send me into a rapture, it's not going to happen."
She blushed. She actually blushed. If she'd thought of it, that would have been the moment to brain me. I was so distracted by the sight of Isabel Evans blushing that I forgot to keep my eye on the vase. "Oh" was what she said. I think she might have been surprised.
Granted, I was feeling pretty surprised myself. Isabel was a lot better looking then I realized. I mean, it was hard not to notice at this point. But I was still waiting for her to try to brain me, so I was able to put it aside.
But then she took off her bra. Her fingers were shaking. I noticed it then, though I didn't think about it till later. Looking back, she must have been convinced that I was going to drag her and her brother down to my father. I don't blame her for thinking that. It is what I was planning to do after all.
However, at that moment--I was still sitting on her bed, and she was in front of me. I actually ended up watching her bra fall to the floor. It looked like the same kind of bra that I'd had to wrestle off Sally Kesserman when we were in her basement. I never could figure out how to unhook it. Embarrassing. As Isabel's bra fell to the floor, I noticed that it seemed to have a never ending row of little hooks. Figures.
And then I'd looked up.
It's not like I see breasts every day. In fact, most every time I've been near a pair, I've been in some dark room or the backseat of a car. But I didn't think Isabel's breasts would be any big deal. I mean, she wasn't even the kind of girl I usually found attractive.
But her breasts were....well, you know. I just stared at them like an idiot. All that skin, the first time I'd ever seen nipples that were so pale, so pink. And she had a birthmark or something on the bottom of her right breast. All I could do was gawk at it.
It was in the shape of a star. It just didn't seem like it should be there, a little spot on what sure as hell looked like perfection. I touched it without thinking. It just didn't seem real.
But it was real. I could feel it under my finger. Her skin was really, really soft and I couldn't resist running my finger under her breast, lifting it up a little.
I could hear her breathing. Hell, I could feel her chest rising and falling. It was weird. Sort of like opening a door you didn't know was there. I told myself I was just waiting for her to pick up the vase.
I'm continually amazed by my capacity for self-delusion.
I think she was waiting for me to grab her. You know what I mean? That's what I'd done up until then, just sort of groped over breasts in the quest to get what ever sixteen year old boy spends all his free time thinking about. I'm sure that's all she'd ever known. Hell, it's all I'd ever done.
But that mole distracted me. And then her skin distracted me. None of it was like what I'd thought it be. If I'd ever thought about Isabel before, it was only in terms of the way she could cut someone open just by speaking. It wasn't about what was under her clothes. I could never get past the outer bitch, so to speak.
I slid my left hand up a little, curving it over the side of her breast. I was almost afraid to touch her. My hand looked, I don't know, different. The whole thing was strange.
My right hand was twitching down by my side. That's how badly I wanted to touch her. So I gave in. What did you expect? That I was going to be some sort of hero, a Max Evans or something? I just put my hands under her breasts, feeling them rest on my thumb and forefingers, the soft weight, the softer skin.
She made this movement. I don't know how to describe it, except that it was sort of like a start. You know how you jump when someone does something you weren't expecting? That's what she did. I saw herhand curve over the vase. I figured she was going to hit me, and I knew I deserved it. I mean, I shouldn't have been touching her. But then I figured what the hell, (I told you I was an asshole) and besides, I wanted to taste that little mole so badly that I was sure I was going to die.
So I leaned over and ran my tongue over it, feeling the slight bump of it, the taste of her skin. The bullshit thing to say would be that she tasted like spring or some crap like that. Actually, her skin had this sort of this salty tang that was like a little shock on my tongue. Amazing.
She moved again and I pulled back, waiting for the vase.
But it didn't come. She just stared at me like I'd lost my mind and I'm pretty sure I had. My hands were still touching her breasts, and I looked at them curiously.
She didn't hit me. I can't guess why she didn't, and to be totally honest, I don't want to think about it too much. I mean, this whole thing was weird enough without addressing her motives.
All I know is that she didn't brain me, and I didn't stop touching her.
I moved closer. In fact, I'd pushed my hands up now, and I allowed myself to run my thumbs over her nipples. So pink. So soft. She made this noise, kind of like a groan but not really, and I felt it everywhere. My jeans were suddenly about eight sizes too small, and I couldn't have remembered my name if you'd asked me.
Next thing I know, I was licking that mole again, and moving my mouth to the skin between her breasts.My hands had moved to her back, and what do you know, the skin there was really soft too. And I'm not one to wax all mushily about backs.
I kept making deals with myself. Just one more touch, and then I'd stop. Just one more taste, and that's it. I realized I couldn't keep any of the deals I was making but I was too gone to care.
And then she moved, which threw my thinking off even more. At first, it was just a little, and her nipple brushed against my cheek. Ok, I told myself, it's torture, but you've had to run wind sprints when it's over 100 degrees outside. You can handle it. Then she moved a little more, and her nipple brushed against my mouth. I figured, what could it hurt, just to, you know, breathe on it or whatever. But then she rested her hand on my shoulder, and her breast was in my mouth and it all just went to hell. I can't even find words to describe it, except that of all the good things I've ever had, tasting Isabel Evans is up in the top five. Ok, two. Ok, it's the best.
We ended up on her bed and I felt like all my nerve endings had been split open and pulled out. Pleasure overload. I couldn't keep my eyes open and I couldn't see, couldn't think, couldn't feel anything but her. Her hands had worked their way up under my shirt, and I could feel this hot tickle at the base of my skull. Add that in with the noises she was making, these little breathy sounds that were making me crazy, and it's a wonder that I'm still sane.
Eventually, I noticed that the hot tickle in the back of my mind increased when I did something that made her clutch my arms or dig her nails into my back. I pulled back from her, because I had to say something. I wasn't sure what I was going to say, but it didn't matter because all I seemed capable of saying was her name. "Isabel."
Her nails dug into my back and I saw us. Oh, I know, I'm saying it all stupid and shit. But I think I saw her feelings about what we were doing. I can tell you without hesitation that Isabel Evans is not cold. If there had been any blood in my head during that time I would have had an aneurysm. It really was pleasure overload.
The only coherent thing I could come away with is that I wanted to be as close to her as possible. So I pulled at my shirt, feeling her hands help me guide it up over my head, and then it was gone and her hands were on my chest-a red haze in my brain as my skin touched hers.
I kissed her stomach, felt her hands run over my arms, the scar on my back from where I got hit with a stray round of buckshot when I was ten, heard her say my name. Don't tell anyone this, but I had to actually bite my tongue so I wouldn't come when she did that. I've never heard anyone say my name like that before.
I really wanted to take her shorts off. But I knew I should ask her if it was ok. Even though my hands were already twitching over the elastic, sliding under to feel the skin on her abdomen. I lifted my head up and looked at her. I want to tell you that I said something really smooth, but the truth is, I think I might have managed to get out all of "Please." She was digging her nails into my back again and the haze was back. I could feel it trickling up from the base of my neck.
Her eyes flew open and if I was smart, I would have jumped up and bolted out of the Evans house right there. Cause what I saw in her eyes was a sort of possessive wonder that screamed 'I've marked you, you won't forget me.' But what she said was "Yes," her body arching up towards my hands, and I wouldn't have left if the house had been on fire.
Don't remember what her shorts looked like. Don't remember her underwear at all either. Didn't care about it, just wanted to touch her.
I ran my hand down over her stomach, over the curls between her legs. Blonde. I did notice that. I was breathing hard, like I'd run for miles, and her hands were wrapped around my arms.
I touched her till I found a spot that made her stiffen, made the haze she was pumping into my brain intensify. And then I moved down a little, lifted her hips up, and put my mouth between her legs.
Right before I did that, she grabbed my hair. It hurt, and I moved my mouth away from her inner thigh to look up at her. She didn't look like the Isabel Evans I knew. Her eyes were all dark and wild, and she just said "Why?" Nothing cutting, nothing mean. Just "Why?"
So I answered her truthfully.
"Because I want to."
And so I touched her, I tasted her. Incredible. That's what it was. And then she made this gasping noise and I could feel her body tremble. I lifted my head up, so I could see her face. It was an effort to open my eyes, all I wanted to see was that red haze that felt so good. But I'm glad I opened my eyes. Her face was pink, her teeth were biting her lower lip, and she said my name again.
I kissed her then. I hadn't kissed her before, though I didn't realize it till just that moment. I should have kissed her before, I could have kissed her forever. She sucked at my bottom lip (If my eyes had been open, they would have been crossed), her tongue met mine, and I could feel our teeth bumping together. It was clumsy, but better than any kiss I've ever had.
She'd wrapped her legs around my waist and I was pressing into her. I really wanted to be inside her, so badly that even my teeth hurt, and I pulled my mouth away from hers, just intending to make sure she still wanted me.
And then there was a knock on the door.
We both froze. She must have guessed what I was going to ask her, and I guess her answer would have been yes, because I realized that she was running her hand down the front of my jeans. As soon as the knock stopped, her hand fell away and we both sort of lay there, frozen, me still hovering over her. I was breathing hard, and I realized she was too.
Another knock. Then "Isabel?"
For a moment, I could see it. Max coming in, seeing me poised over his naked sister, seeing the mark of her nails all over my back. Telling him what I'd done with her, then dragging him down to my dad.
But then I looked at her. Her face was still flushed, and there was hickey on her stomach. Her knees were still braced around my waist.
"Isabel?" Max sounded a little worried.
I opened my mouth, ready to say 'Come on in, Max. I've been waiting for you.' But what came out was a whisper, directed at her. "Tell him to wait a minute."
And her voice, a little wavery and unsure. "Max, can you wait a minute?"
"Yeah, I'll be downstairs."
I didn't know what to do. So I just acted. I got up, fumbled around for my shirt. She'd grabbed a robe or something, put it on. I could see a "v" of skin between her breasts.
I was supposed to get Max. I started for the door. I could hear her breathing.
Another knock. "Is, you sure you're ok?"
I didn't move any closer towards the door, didn't move towards where Max was. I turned to look at her instead. Was she ok?
She looked lost. Totally, utterly lost. And I forgot all about Max. I went over to her instead, just touched her face with my hand. I wanted to say something. I opened my mouth, searching for words.
And then she pushed me. I shook my head, startled, and realized she was gesturing at the door. Max was starting to open it. "Wait a minute!" she called.
I acted without thinking, running over to her window and opening it. I started to go out-god knows, at this point, I wanted to run like hell-but I turned back.
Was she ok? I had to know.
She was just staring at me. Her mouth was trembling.
"Are you ok?"
I whispered it to her. I didn't want Max to hear me.
She nodded. I wanted to ask her more questions, other questions. Did I hurt you? What the hell happened? How did you learn to kiss like that?
Her door started to open again. I didn't even think of Max then, of aliens, of anything. I just thought about her.
She was smiling at me. It was a shaky smile, but it was a smile. My chest hurts when I think about it. Then I fell out the window. Thank God no one saw me.
I ran across the street to my car. Don't remember the drive home.
Like I said, I don't remember getting home, but I did, somehow, because my father is talking to me.
"What?" God, I must have been totally out of it. Dad looks pissed.
"I asked you where you were this afternoon. I ran into Coach Jackson and he said you skipped practice."
"Yeah, well, I had stuff to do"
"Stuff to do? What kind of stuff?" My father really is furious, his face is all red.
Dad would be happy if he found aliens. Maybe then he'd be around more. And maybe I could even get Liz back. Kind, gentle, sweet Liz.
I close my eyes, anxious to picture her face in my mind. She'd understand eventually-why I had to turn Evans in-right?
But the face I see is Isabel's. It's flushed, her teeth are biting her lower lip, and she's arching up towards my hands, my mouth.
I see her staring at me when I tell her I know. I see her taking off her shirt, watch her hands shake as she unhooks her bra. See the look on her face when Max knocks on the door.
I run my hands up, over my face, through my hair. I've just got to think for a second.
My hands smell like her.
Behind my closed eyes, I can see the skin between her breasts.
I remember the taste of her mouth, the way everything started off in one direction and then changed into something else. It was a big surprise, what happened between us. How's that for an understatement?
What would happen to her if I tell?
I can hear her whispering my name, the little moans she made as I touched her..
She's an alien.
I've never made a girl come until today.
She's an alien.
The panicked look on her face when she thought I was going to say something, call out to Max.
The way she touched me.
I want to touch her again.
"It was nothing " I tell my father. "Don't worry. I'll talk to coach, I'll go to practice tomorrow. Are you coming to the game on Friday?"
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