|Disclaimer: Roswell is not mine. I do not intend to steal any credit from Melinda Metz, 20th Century Fox, the WB, UPN, or anyone else who owns any rights to Roswell, it's characters, and it's plot.|
Summary: This story picks up where "Destiny" left off.
Author's Note: I wrote this last summer, after Destiny aired and just never got around to cleaning it up enough to submit. I would really appreciate feedback.
|"Please take out your homework." The teacher walked into the Spanish II classroom and set a stack of papers on his desk. "Your compositions should have been completed by today."|
"Compositions?" Max mumbled to himself, flipping through some papers. Max couldn't remember having any compositions due today. Flipping through some more assignments, Max came up with a composition he had written months before. His mom had been so proud of it because he received the highest score of the class on it. Yet, the paper that Max looked at was not graded, or even marked for that matter. Max looked at it curiously.
"That would be the correct assignment, Mr. Evans," the teacher told Max as he walked past him. Still confused, Max handed in the paper with everyone else's. "Now," the teacher took out his text as he stood in front of the room, "Abran el libro en la página ciento treinta y dos [Open your books to page 132]." Flipping to the correct page, Max looked over the day's material. He remembered doing this page. Max looked around to see what other people's reactions to the assignment were. No one seemed bothered by the fact that they had done this assignment months ago. "Now, Mr. Jakes," the teacher addressed one of the students in the front row. Please tell us the date."
The jock who had been asked the question, answered, "Uh, September 17th, 1999." The class laughed. Max watched the situation with an amused expression. This guy had to be really out of it to think that it was September.
The teacher's glare silenced the class. "I meant in Spanish, Robert."
"Oh, yeah." The jock groped for an answer. "Uh, viernes, septimbre diecisiete, diecinueve noventanueve [Friday, September 17th, 1999]."
"Thank you Mr. Jakes." The teacher turned around and quickly scribbled septimbre [September] 17 on the black board. "Now class, tell me a significant event that occurred on this date." Max couldn't believe it. The teacher had just said it was September. It wasn't September; it couldn't be September. It was May, Max told himself. Monday, May 15th. To say that Max was confused would be the understatement of the year. Though, which year, Max wasn't sure of. The class went on, and by the time it was over, Max was still as lost as ever.
As he left the classroom, he spotted Isabel in the halls with her friends. Max walked up to the group. "I need to borrow Isabel for a second." Max grabbed her arm and pulled her to the side.
Isabel sighed, "What's wrong now Max?"
"Is," Max shot a look back to the classroom, "what's the date?"
Isabel gave her brother a funny look. "The 17th, why?"
Max shook his head. "Of… of what month?"
A worried look came over Isabel's face. "It's September Max. Are you okay?" Max looked at his sister, stunned. It wasn't September. It couldn't be. It was May, Max told himself once again. May 15th. The bell rang and Isabel stepped back. "Listen, Max," she said, "I've got to get to class. I'll see you later." Without waiting for his reply, she walked off to meet up with one of her friends. Max walked numbly to his next class.
The next period went painfully slow for Max. His attention was continually diverted to the thought of the date. How could it be September? Max thought to the past few days' events. Nasado captured Liz. Liz was rescued. The special unit captured Max. Max was rescued. Pierce was captured. Michael killed Pierce. The orbs were activated. Their destinies were learned. Liz left. The end. Max shook his head. And it definitely wasn't September.
As class ended, Max thought ahead to his next class. He knew he would never make it. I have to think, Max told himself as he headed toward the school's main doors.
A few minutes later, Max walked into a small café a few blocks from the high school. It was pretty much deserted, exactly what Max was hoping for. Max quietly got a bag of chips and a soda from the counter, then wandered to a small booth in the corner, where he sat to gather his thoughts. Okay, Max thought, first things first: the date. What is the date? "Well," Max mumbled to himself, "I say it is Monday, May 15th, 2000. But the rest of the world seems to think that it's Friday, September 17th, 1999." Max rubbed his temples. Well, it's not like it's the first extremely strange thing to happen in the last few days, Max reminded himself. "Okay, so it's Friday, September 17th, 1999." Max said out loud to the vacant booth in front of him. "What does that mean?" And then it hit him. September 18th. September 18th was the day that Liz got shot at the Crashdown. This new realization completely blew Max away. Why this month, this day, of all the months and days of the year, was Max sent back? Max, while pondering the idea, reached over for the bottle of Tabasco sauce at the end of the table and proceeded to pour the hot sauce onto his chips. Max popped a chip into his mouth and immediately spit it back out, taking a deep swig of his Coca-Cola. The chip tasted horrible. Horrible and way too spicy. Max stared at the chips in the bag. Cautiously, Max picked up another chip and placed it in his mouth. Again, he spit it out, grimacing at the taste. What was going on? He had always eaten his chips with the hot sauce for as long as he could remember. "It must be the sauce," Max decided, and reached over to the booth behind him and switched the bottles. Taking a chip that hadn't been touched by the previous hot sauce, Max tried again, also getting the same reaction. Max just sat and stared at the sauce. This was way too weird. "What a waste of chips." Max said to himself as he waved his hand over the bag to get rid of the Tabasco sauce. Nothing happened. The sauce remained on the chips. Max concentrated more and waved his hand over it again and once again: nothing. "Odd." Max snatched up the bottle of Tabasco sauce and concentrated. Nothing happened. "Turn yellow," Max commanded as he once again tried to manipulate the molecules of the liquid. "Damn it!" Max growled, as there was no change in the sauce. Max placed his hand on random objects, hoping, praying for some sort of response. Still, nothing. Max slumped back in the booth, completely exhausted. What the heck was wrong with him? He couldn't do anything. Max stared at his hands as if they held some answer. And they did. Still visible on his left hand was the mark from the necklace from his dream. "The dream…" And the pieces started to fall into place. As they did so, Max began to get extremely worried. "The dream… With Riverdog… He said he would grant me the impossible, what I had asked for… my freedom. What had I asked for? Oh my god… I… I was thinking about Liz last night… about being… being normal…" Max pulled the necklace out of his pocket and flipped it over, examining it. The symbol that had been on the necklace the previous day was gone; both sides were blank. Max ran his finger over the smooth surfaces of the necklace, where the symbol was no longer. Taking a deep breath, he thought through everything he knew about his current life. "Okay Max," Max told himself, "just take it slowly. The date is Friday, September 17th, 1999. Tomorrow afternoon, Liz will be shot at the Crashdown. I am human. Isabel is my sister, but she might or might not be human. Michael doesn't know me. Liz doesn't love me…" Max ended his summary with that. As Max finished his sentence, a huge grin broke over his face. "Yet."
Max wandered around the halls back at Roswell High. He had only missed one class, so he would be okay. It's not like he hadn't learned it all before. Max wondered who his friends were, since he was just a normal teenage guy now. As he turned a corner, a familiar face approached him. "Hey Evans."
"Kyle." Max stared at Kyle, bewildered. "Hi."
"You'll be at the game tomorrow, right?" Kyle questioned, smiling comfortably.
Well, Max thought, I guess that answers my question. "Uh, yeah, I guess so."
Kyle grinned. "Great. We should whip the Mustang's butts." Max nodded, trying to be as casual as possible. Kyle continued to chat amiably all the way down the hall to Max's 4th period class. "Well, see ya later Evans." Kyle then departed down the hall to his class.
Max walked into the bio lab and then it hit him. This was the class that Liz was in. No, Max shook his head, not only was she in this class, she was his lab partner. Max smiled to himself as he took his normal seat. Okay, Max thought, I need to find some way to prevent Liz from getting shot tomorrow. Max caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and all thoughts were washed out of his head. Liz sat down next to him and busily began to rummage through her bag for a pen. Max gazed at her as she tucked her hair behind her ear and pulled out the pen. Turning to him, Liz noticed Max staring at her. "Uh, hi Max." She gave him a quizzical look, then turned her attention to the teacher.
"Today, we will explore the concept of cloning." The teacher was saying. "Please complete the exercise on page 176 with your partner. I'd like these turned in by Monday."
Liz looked at Max, who had regained his composure a bit and was now staring at his pencil, and spoke up, "I'll go get the supplies." Max nodded dumbly and flipped through his book to the correct page. Max looked up as Liz came back and watched her quietly set up the equipment. "Okay, what do we do first?" Max jerked in surprise as she spoke directly to him.
"Oh, yeah." Max quickly scanned the assignment and they got to work.
As the bell rang at the end of class, Max watched Liz as she packed her books. "Um, Liz?" Max started.
Liz looked to him and Max's heart stood still. "Yeah?"
Max couldn't stop staring at her. She was beautiful. Seeing Liz shift uncomfortably under his intense gaze, Max looked down. "Um, I was just wondering if you wanted to go to the basketball game tomorrow. I know, uh, Kyle is playing, so I was just wondering…"
Liz shrugged. "I wasn't planning to. My dad needs me to work at the Café."
Max stared at the table, not daring to look at Liz. "Um, do you think you could get someone else to work for you or something? I, um, I'd really like to see you there."
Max glanced quickly up to see Liz's reaction. She was watching him questioningly but a small smile played on her lips. "Uh, I guess I could ask Jasmine or something."
Max grinned and nodded, pleased that this one obstacle had been overcome. "Okay, well, I'll, um, see you later then." Liz nodded as Max turned to retreat to the hall. A smile crossed her face as she picked up her bag and followed him out.
Max walked into the quad and looked around. Spotting Kyle with a group of jocks, Max headed over to them. As he approached, one of the basketball players, Justin, looked up. "Hey Max, get over here. We're going over some of the plays for tomorrows game and we need your opinion." Max looked a little confused but nodded and joined the group. "Okay," Justin explained, "we were thinking that if you came down on the left instead of the right, we'd have a better chance of getting the ball to Kyle so he can get his lay-up." So, Max thought, I play basketball now. Max smiled softly to himself. This will be interesting. Nodding, Max looked around the group. He only barely recognized two of the five guys he was sitting with and definitely didn't remember all of their names. Yet, as he looked at them, he began to remember not only their names but a bit about them as well. Justin and Ray were forwards, Dan was a center, and Kyle and himself were the point guards for the starting five. As Max looked at the play directions in front of him, other things began to come to him. Names and details of dozens of plays, names of the rest of the varsity basketball team, and his letter jacket at home. Max smiled to himself as things came back to him about his current life. He was now convinced that he had been put back in time and that what Riverdog had promised had indeed come true.
Dan punched Max in the arm. "Wake up Evans. We need to get this play down before lunch is over." Max nodded, still smiling at the unexpected turn of events.
The next period was uneventful for Max. He remembered most of what they were doing, so he really didn't pay any attention to the teacher as he droned on about some ancient culture. Instead, Max thought of Liz. Tomorrow, he would see Liz at the game, therefore keeping her away from the Crashdown. Max couldn't wait to see her. This is my second chance, Max thought, my chance to not screw up my relationship with Liz.
Max's next class was woodshop. As he walked in, his mind still occupied with thoughts of Liz, he noticed Michael standing at a table alone, quietly working on a model. Without thinking, Max strolled up to the table. "Hey Michael."
Michael looked up at Max, surprised. Seeing who it was, Michael's eyes turned cold. "What do you want Evans? Are you here to threaten me again?" Michael then turned his back on the surprised Max and continued to work on his project.
"Threaten you about what?" Max asked, confused.
Michael looked up at Max harshly. "Oh, just shut up Evans! You just want to keep your sister and me apart. You don't like the thought of her going out with someone who isn't one of your jock friends, is that it? Well, get over it." Michael then turned his back on Max again. Max quickly walked to another table, a worried look on his face.
The period was torture for Max. His best friend, in his other life at least, stood a few feet away, glaring at him from time to time. Michael and Isabel had ended up together, Max thought to himself. They share the bond that the three of us used to share, except that there's only two of them now. The whole situation was starting to become more and more uncomfortable.
|Part 1 | Index | Part 3|
|Max/Liz | Michael/Maria | Alex/Isabel | UC Couples | Valenti | Other | Poetry | Crossovers | AfterHours|