***

"All cats understand French.
Some chickens are cats.
Some chickens understand French."

--Lewis Carroll, Symbolic Logic

***

Lunchtime. West Roswell High School. The strip of grass between the science wing and the stadium. Though it would be impossible for a casual observer to detect the massive secret that bound the six students lounging beneath one of the shade trees together, a perceptive watcher might see the more subtle threads that connected them. The dark haired boy and girl sitting shoulder to shoulder, seemingly communicating without words from time to time. The tall, blonde beauty engaging in a tentative flirtation with the gangly boy sitting cross-legged beside her. The bubbly pixie leaning against the shins of the wild-haired boy who leaned against the tree.

"I can’t believe Mr. Summers is giving us another team project," Alex groaned. "It’s the third one this term."

"At least we got new partners this time," Liz said with a soft smile at Max. His sister rolled her eyes.

"Speak for yourself. I’m still stuck with the human porcupine," Maria teased, reaching to ruffle Michael’s perpetually disheveled hair.

"I’m not actually human," he pointed out as he tried to dodge her.

"But, note," she said with a grin. "He doesn’t deny being a porcupine."

"It seems to be the more intelligent of the two species," he said, holding both her wrists in one hand.

"Oh, please. Can we say 'roadkill'? Besides, 'non-human porcupine' would be a little redundant, space-boy."

"Do you two have to do that so loudly?" Isabel asked nervously.

"What?" Maria said. "Sometimes I think you people are just a little too sensitive. I mean, this *is* Roswell. 'Alien' has got to be one of the top three most repeated words within the city limits. If any other girl in this school called her boyfriend a mind-sucking alien freak nobody would even think twice about it."

"You know," Alex grinned, "I think I did hear Sara Milligan calling Thomas..."

"Wait a minute," Michael interrupted. "Back up. I’m a what?"

"Mind-sucking alien freak?" Maria said innocently.

"Before that."

"Porcupine?"

"After."

She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Oh. Boyfriend?"

"Uh-uh." He shook his head. "No. I’m not."

"Hate to break it to you, pal-y, but that’s what girls call the guys they’re dating."

"We’re not dating," he said adamantly.

"You know what the trouble with you is?" she asked. "You have a vocabulary problem."

"A what?"

"Vo-cab-u-lar-y prob-lem," she enunciated slowly. "Shall we put it to a vote?: She waved her hand around at their small circle of friends. Max was trying his best not to smile at Michael’s discomfort, but the others were beginning to grin. "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury," Maria said, warming to her new role. "The evidence. What did you do last night?" she asked turning back to Michael.

He squirmed. "I... we went to a movie."

"We?" she said. "As in you and me?"

"So?" Michael frowned. "I didn’t buy your ticket."

"Not the point," she dismissed his protest with an airy wave. "And what did you... or should I just go ahead and say 'we' do last Saturday?"

"This isn’t going to get graphic, is it?" Isabel asked with an ill-hidden smile. "Because there are some things I really don’t need to know about you two."

Michael scowled at her. He scowled at all of them and folded his arms defensively. "This is nuts."

"Answer the question, Mr. Guerin," Maria persisted.

"We rented a movie," he snapped.

"And how much of this movie do you actually remember seeing?" she asked sweetly.

He flushed and refused to answer.

"I think you made your point there," Alex said quickly. "We really don’t need to know the rest."

"Moving on, then," Maria continued. "Did you or didn’t you come to dinner with me and my mom last week?"

Michael frowned at the ground while the others looked at him in astonishment. "So?" he muttered again.

"And did you or did you not comb your hair, wear clean clothes, and actually try to make a good impression?"

He blushed again.

"You got me a Christmas present," Maria went on. "And a birthday present and you *did* pay for my movie ticket on Valentine’s day. In Chavez County, New Mexico we can sum all that up in one word: Dating. Jury?"

"I’m no expert," Alex said. "But I’ll have to go with dating."

"Definitely dating," Isabel agreed.

"It does sound like dating," Liz said.

Michael gave Max a pleading look. Max shrugged. "Sorry. It does."

"So," Maria said triumphantly. "We’ve established that we are indeed dating..."

"No, we haven’t."

She blithely ignored his interruption. "Then we come to the term 'boyfriend'. A term used by a girl meaning the boy, or nearest equivalent species, that the girl is dating. I’m the girl. We ARE dating. Therefore, you are my boyfriend. Argue with *that* logic, Einstein."

Alex rose to his feet, clapping.

"That’s not even logic," Michael protested. "It’s like that whacked Carroll syllogism about cats speaking French."

"I’d go ahead and give up now if I were you," Max advised his best friend. He stood too and held out his hand to Liz. "Biology, Ms. Parker?"

"Thank you, Mr. Evans," she said, allowing him to pull her to her feet. She patted Michael’s shoulder as they passed him. "You make a cute couple."

He merely growled.

Alex bowed and offered his hand to Isabel. "Ms. Evans? May I escort you to your locker?"

She looked up at him hesitantly and then smiled. "Sure, why not?" She glanced back at Michael and Maria still sitting in the grass. "Are you two ditching or what?"

Michael shrugged. "I’m not even sure what I have this period."

"English," Maria suggested.

"English? I’m taking English?" He affected an air of surprise. "You’d think I’d remember something like that."

"You’d think."

Isabel shook her head and took Alex’s arm. "They’re hopeless," she said wearily. "I’m so glad there’s at least one sensible person in this group that I can talk to." Alex flushed and grinned as they headed toward the building.

"So," Maria said. "Are we ditching?"

"What’s with all this 'we' stuff?" Michael asked.

Maria frowned at him. "I thought we just went through all this."

"Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention." He laughed at her exasperated expression and stood, pulling her to her feet along with him. "You’re insane," he said. "You know that, don’t you?"

She smiled as she slipped her arm through his. "I’d have to be to fall for you," she said. "Walk me to shop class?"

"I’m not carrying your books."

"Anti-chauvinist."

"Raving lunatic."

"Space-boy."

"Girlfriend."

She stopped abruptly and looked up at him in surprise. He gave her a lopsided grin.

"I knew you could be taught," she said happily. "The next word we’ll try adding to your vocabulary is 'fashion'."

"Where’s Valenti? I think I’m gonna turn myself in now."

Back to Area 51 (Section III)