The Outsider (5 page)

Isabel grabbed a magazine off her night table and started flipping through it. Definitely not that pink froufrou thing, she thought. The girl looks like she went shopping after an overdose of Prozac. Being that happy just wasn't attractive.

And not that red rag with the built-in push-up bra. No, no, no. “Somebody call 1-800-Go Ricki,” she mumbled. “I have a candidate for the ‘My Best Friend Went to the Homecoming Dance Dressed Like A Hoochie Mama' show.”

She threw the magazine on the floor and picked up a movie magazine. She studied a photo of a British movie star going into some premiere wearing an ice blue slip dress. Simple. Sexy. And oh, so Isabel.

She would go shopping tomorrow. All she had to do was talk her dad out of his credit card. It had been a few months since the last time. And the homecoming dance was a very important event in a girl's life. He would understand that.

Isabel checked the clock — 2
A.M.
She'd already gotten in the two hours of sleep she needed, and there were hours and hours to go before she had to get ready for school. She reached for the remote, then changed her mind. Late-night TV sucked. She'd already seen every infomercial about a hundred times. If only humans didn't need so much sleep, there would be good stuff on all night.

She could go see what Max was doing or call up Michael. But they would probably end up arguing about Liz, and Isabel wasn't in the mood.

Isabel checked the clock again. All the guys in Roswell should be asleep by now. She could do some dream walking and make extra sure she would get the votes she needed to be elected homecoming queen. Not that there was any real doubt, but Isabel was a junior, and usually the homecoming queen
was
a senior. Besides, it was something to do.

She closed her eyes and allowed her breathing to become slow and even. Years of practice made it easy for her to slip into the state between sleep and wakefulness, the place where the shimmering dream orbs were visible.

She never got tired of watching the dream orbs swirl around her, like giant soap bubbles blown with an enchanted bubble wand. Each orb gave off one pure note of music, and Isabel had spent a lot of hours matching up the people she knew with the sound of their dream orb.

Who should I choose tonight? Hmmm. I think it's Alex Manes's turn, she decided. She listened for the sonorous sound of Alex's dream orb, a sound so rich, she could almost taste it. Yes, there it was.

Isabel stretched out her arms and began to hum, calling the orb to her. It spun into her hands and she peered into it, feeling like a gypsy with a crystal ball. Inside the orb she could see a miniature version of one of the halls of Ulysses F. Olsen High. Alex was dreaming about school. How fun.

She hummed louder, and the orb expanded. When it was large enough, she stepped through, the surface of the soap bubble soft against her skin.

Alex must have a good visual memory, she thought. His dream version of school was pretty accurate. She giggled as he ran down the hall past her.

“The calculus final can't be today,” Alex cried. “It's only October. I didn't study.”

“The final isn't today,” Isabel said calmly.

Alex spun around to face her. His red hair was mussed, as if he'd been nervously running his fingers through it. “Are you sure? I just saw Mr. O'Brien, and he said the test had already started. He said he was taking off ten points for every second I was late.”

“He was teasing you. The only thing you're late for is the homecoming dance.” Isabel took Alex by the hand and led him toward the gym. He didn't ask one question. She loved how easy it was to convince people of stuff in dreams.

Isabel pushed open the gym's big double doors. A spotlight hit her and Alex, and crowns appeared on their heads.

“Can you believe we won?” Isabel asked. “We got elected homecoming queen and king! I think we're supposed to lead this dance.”

“Oh. Really? You and me?” Alex blinked into the spotlight.

“You and me.” Isabel wrapped her arms around Alex's neck and rested her head on his shoulder. Nice, she thought. Exactly the right height. And he smells good, too.

Isabel usually liked a few more muscles. Washboard abs and powerful legs. But Alex's lean body felt . . . mmmm.

You're here to work, not to have fun, she reminded herself. She raised her head and gazed up at him — the universal language for “kiss me.”

Alex's gaze drifted to her lips. He pulled her closer. She could feel his warm breath against her cheeks, then . . .

She snapped herself out of the orb. Her lips curved into a satisfied smile. That's another vote for me, she thought. She loved playing with their minds.

“Smell this.” Maria thrust a tiny vial of liquid under Liz's nose. “It's cedar. It's really soothing. You'll go into bio feeling at peace.”

Liz obediently took a sniff, but she didn't think anything would make her feel less nervous about seeing Max. How was she going to face him after the way she bolted out of his house? What was she going to say to him?

“Feel better?” Maria asked.

“A little, I guess,” Liz fibbed. If she said no, Maria would just make her smell something else. Maria was totally into aromatherapy, and she definitely wanted to convert Liz.

“Now that I know the truth about Max, I — ” Liz stopped abruptly as Alex plopped down on the ground next to them with two slices of pizza, a brownie, a bag of fried pork rinds, and an orange soda balanced in his hands.

Alex glanced from Liz to Maria, then back to Liz. “Okay, what's going on? You two look guilty.”

“Uh, uh, we were just — ,” Maria began.

“We were just saying how much we love that new box of tampons — the one where they put all the sizes together,” Liz jumped in. Maria was such an awful liar. “They have the junior ones, for really light days, and — ”

“Wait,” Alex exclaimed. “I'm starting to feel really left out. If you don't stop, I'm going to get my feelings hurt.”

“Just admit it,” Liz answered. “You can't even take hearing the word
tam
— ”

“Okay, okay. You're right,” Alex said quickly. “If either of you ever want to break up with a guy but don't know how, just start talking about . . .
that
a lot.”

“Sounds like the beginning of one of your lists,” Liz said.

“Hey, yeah! I've been trying to figure out what the next one should be,” he answered.

Alex had a web site filled with lists like “How to Know When to Bring a Barf Bag to a Movie” and “How to Guarantee Your Kid Will Grow Up to Be a Serial Killer or a Game Show Host.” Once he got an idea for a list, he could talk about it for hours. And today that's exactly what Liz wanted him to do. She didn't want to get anywhere near the Max subject, not with Maria, the world's worst liar, sitting next to her.

“Okay, what else, what else?” Alex took a big bite of his pizza.

Maria rummaged around in her purse and pulled out a capsule filled with something green. She handed it to Alex. “Here. If you're going to eat that garbage, you need a little herbal boost. I blended this myself. It has great stuff in it.”

Alex squinted at the capsule, then tossed it into his mouth and washed it down with a big swallow of the orange soda. “Okay, I got it. Here's another great way to get rid of a guy. Tell him you think it would be so cute if you started wearing matching outfits to school.”

Liz took a little bite of her sandwich, then set it down. She was too anxious to eat.

“What about Rick Surmacz and Maggie McMahon?” Maria asked. “Maggie makes him wear the same colors as her practically every day, and they've been together since the seventh grade.”

“Yeah, but everyone knows Maggie gave Rick a lobotomy,” Alex shot back. “He has all the signs. Right, Liz?”

“Huh? Oh yeah,” she mumbled. She had kind of stopped paying attention once she was sure Alex was on a safe topic.

“Is something — ,” Alex began. Then his expression turned grim. “Kyle Valenti at four o'clock.”

Oh, great, Liz thought. This is exactly what I need right now.

Kyle plopped down next to her on the grass — without waiting for an invitation. “So, Liz, when are we going out again?” he asked.

He's like a deranged Energizer Bunny, Liz thought. How many times am I going to have to tell him no before his batteries run out?

“That would be
never.
I told you that, Kyle,” Liz said firmly. She reached across Maria and grabbed one of Alex's pork rinds. She didn't want one — she thought they were pretty disgusting, actually — but she hoped maybe if she ignored Kyle, he'd just go away.

“Am I missing something? Are you, like, the hottest girl in school? What makes you think you're so special?” Kyle demanded.

Maria nudged Liz. She's probably madder than I am, Liz thought.

“Kyle, get a clue, get some therapy, get a life,” Liz said. “Just get over it.”

Maria nudged Liz again. “Your shirt,” she whispered.

Liz glanced down and saw that her baby tee had ridden up — revealing one of the silver handprints on her stomach. When I reached for the pork rind, she thought.

Did Kyle notice? Probably not, she decided. The prints had begun to fade, and Kyle was pretty distracted by the sound of his own voice. Liz slid the shirt back down, trying to make the movement look casual.

“You should get rid of your attitude,” Kyle was saying. “You — ”

“That's it, Valenti,” Alex interrupted. “Get lost.” Kyle pushed himself to his feet and stared down at Alex. “What — are you going to make me?” Kyle demanded.

Alex stood up and faced off with him. Alex was shorter than Kyle, and he probably weighed twenty-five pounds less. But he didn't back down. He took a step closer.

Wonderful, Liz thought, rolling her eyes. Now I have to be nice to Kyle so that he doesn't kill Alex.

“Look, Kyle,” she said in her sweetest voice. “I didn't mean to — ”

“Forget it, okay? Don't even bother.” Kyle moved away from Alex and glanced around the quad. He jerked his chin toward Isabel Evans. “Who cares about you? If
she
didn't want to go out with me, then I'd have to be upset.” He stalked off.

Alex sat back down. “What a total and complete jerk.”

“Yeah, Liz is much, much prettier than Isabel,” Maria added.

Liz cracked up. “I don't think that's what he meant,” she told Maria.

Maria turned to Alex. “Oh, come on. Liz is way more gorgeous than Isabel, right?”

“Different types,” Alex muttered.

“Yeah. Liz treats guys like human beings. Isabel treats guys like dirt,” Maria answered. “I don't know why any guy would want to go out with her.”

Alex looked over at Isabel. “Yeah. Blond hair, blue eyes, curvy body. Who would want to get close to that?”

Maria whacked him on the shoulder. “I will never understand guys. Just because you like how she looks, you don't care that she has the personality of a taxidermist.”

“I had a dream about her the other night, and it had nothing to do with dead animals,” Alex protested.

“It's hard to believe she and Max are brother and sister,” Liz said. “I mean, yeah, they have the same hair and eyes.”

“But not the same curvy body,” Alex joked.

Liz ignored him. “But Max's personality is totally different. Max is nice to
everyone.”

Maria grabbed Liz by the arm. “I just realized. Isabel is Max's sister. Does that mean she's also a — rdquo;

Liz slapped her hand over Maria's mouth. She couldn't believe Maria had almost blurted out Max's secret. She was going to have to sit her down and remind her how serious it would be for Max if the truth about him got out.

“A what?” Alex asked.

“Oh no,” Liz said. “Don't try to weasel out of it. You have to tell us your dream. You brought it up — that means you have to tell.”

Maria pulled Liz's hand off her mouth. She gave Liz a little nod to show she understood. “Yeah. I'll analyze it for you. I've read every dream book there is.”

“There's not much to analyze,” Alex said.

Another save by Liz Ortecho, Liz thought. She glanced over at Isabel Evans. She looked so, well, normal. But Maria had a good point.
Could
Isabel be an alien, too? She must be — she was Max's sister. Liz knew they were both adopted, and they looked practically like twins. Liz stared around the quad. Were Max and Isabel the only two aliens at school? Or were there aliens everywhere, and she just hadn't known about it?

“Come on,” Maria said. “Details, Alex.”

“Okay, but try not to laugh.” Alex looked embarrassed. “I was at the homecoming dance with Isabel — and we were the homecoming king and queen. We had on the crowns and everything.”

“Oh, stop. I'm going to hurl.” Maria made loud barfing sounds.

“What do you think? Is it a sign? Should I try and get up the guts to, like, talk to her or something?” Alex asked.

“No!” Liz blurted.

Alex looked hurt.

But Liz couldn't worry about his feelings. She'd suddenly remembered something about Isabel. The other day, at Max's house, Isabel had stared at Liz with pure hatred.

She's afraid I'm going to betray Max, Liz realized. And if people discovered Max was an alien, they'd know Isabel was one, too. Liz's stomach began to tingle. Isabel must be terrified. No wonder she hated Liz. Would she come after me? Liz wondered. Try to hurt my friends?

Liz didn't know. But she did know one thing — she didn't want Alex anywhere near Isabel.

“It's just that, like Maria said, she treats guys like dirt,” Liz told Alex. “You deserve better.”

“I guess you're right,” Alex said. But Liz noticed he was staring at Isabel when he said it.

“I have this craving for a doughnut. Want to go to the doughnut place?” Max asked. He ate the last bite of his burger and shoved the tray across the cafeteria table.

“But that would mean . . . cutting school.” Michael opened his gray eyes wide and stared at Max with mock horror.

Max sniffed the air. “Can you smell them? Can you smell the crullers sliding out of the oven?” He pulled a couple of packets of hot sauce out of his jacket pocket and waved them in front of his friend's face. He knew crullers with hot sauce were Michael's favorite.

“I have a history test, and I would not think of jeopardizing my education for a cruller,” Michael said primly.

“Have you ever had one when they're still hot, because I think today is cruller baking day,” Max said.

“Do you think I'm that easy?” Michael demanded. “Besides, it's not like you can hide from the girl for the rest of your life.”

“Yeah, you're right.” Max didn't bother to pretend that he didn't know who Michael was talking about.

The bell rang. “I kind of like giving you advice for a change,” Michael said as they headed out.

“Don't get too used to it,” Max answered. He started up the stairs to his advanced placement bio class. Would Liz even be there? He'd thought about bailing — why wouldn't she?

Max couldn't decide if he hoped she'd be there or not. He wanted to see her and make sure she was okay. But he couldn't take it if she looked at him the way she did on Saturday, all scared and weirded out and . . . and
repulsed.
Man, he would never forget the expression on her face.

He hesitated outside the door. Don't be a wuss, he told himself, and stepped inside. Liz was there. He should have known she wouldn't cut. She wasn't really the kind of person who backed away from things.

He knew she noticed him come in — her shoulders tensed a little, and the sickly yellow steaks that still marred her amber aura grew a little darker. But she didn't look up. She kept her eyes focused on the lab table as she set up their microscope.

Max took a detour to check on the lab mice. Admit it, he thought as he fed them a few pieces of celery. You're stalling. “Wish me luck,” he whispered to Fred, his favorite mouse. Then he forced himself to walk over to the lab station he shared with Liz.

“We're doing a comparison between animal and plant cells today,” Liz said in a rush when Max slid onto his lab stool. “I'm trying to decide which category a couch potato would fall into.”

Her laugh sounded a little fake. But at least she was trying to joke around with him the way she usually did — even if she still hadn't managed to look at him.

If Liz was going to act as if nothing had happened, he would, too. We should both get Oscar nominations after this class, Max thought.

“Okay, let's get started,” Ms. Hardy called. “Everyone on the left, use a vegetable scraping to make a slide. Everyone on the right, use a swab to get some cells from the inside of your cheek and do a slide. When you've answered the questions on your own slide — animal or plant — then trade with another team and answer the rest.”

Max picked up one of the swabs. “I'll do it.”

Liz grabbed the swab away. “Are you crazy?” she demanded. She lowered her voice. “Do you even know what your cells look like? What if they don't look . . . the same?”

She was right. Ms. Hardy often walked around and looked at their slides. And if there was something
different
about his cells, she would definitely notice.

Max was usually so careful, so cautious. He couldn't believe he'd almost done something that amazingly stupid. This thing with Liz had him totally messed up. All he could think about was her. He couldn't stop wondering what was going on in her head.